My alarm rang for the fourth time and for the fourth time I pressed snooze. I silently cursed my instructor for signing us up for a Winterguard competition the day after our preview show where we performed for friends and family. I recalled our performance as a nightmare, a complete disaster and the heavy feeling of defeat lingered, wiping out any and all motivation I needed to get myself out of bed. I knew I needed to get up soon if I wanted to get to the school on time, especially with all the items I needed to pack. The apocalypse itself would surely ensure in the event that I left something behind, but still I closed my eyes.

Eventually, the thought of getting there, nailing the routine, and achieving the redemption we so rightfully deserved turned out to be the motivation I needed to get up. Immediately the memory of the previous night’s three hour practice prior to the show rushed to my head. My entire body ached, but my back that hurt the most. I tried my best to ignore the pain,and the stiffens it brought as I got ready for the day.
Sooner or later, my mom and I arrived at the school gym and I discovered that most of us experienced difficulty getting started that morning. A few girls lay sprawled out on the gym floor or in the bleachers. Their eyes, drooping, half closed, dreaming of the warm beds they abandoned, and over half of us failed to even show up on time. Since I held the position of junior lieutenant I also held the privilege of calling the latecomers. The task of bringing life to the ones already there rested on my shoulders as well.

After everyone trickled in or awakened we unfolded our tarp, a large and heavy flat structure painted in a swirl of bright colors, onto the gym floor. We were scheduled to practice for a mere hour before a bus arrived at 10:30 to take us to the competition. I sensed the thickness of anxiety like humid air on hot summer day.

Right at the start, my instructor decided to adjust a part of the show hours before we performed. We comply to the small alteration reluctantly, as our trust in him wavered. Having dealt with his indecisiveness all season it hardly surprised us anymore, still it irritated us all the same. Aside from the minor modification, everyone moved with great uncertainty throughout the rehearsal. We struggled, the pressures of competition day magnified our insecurities, and my instructor grew frustrated. As I looked around and saw surrender in everyones eyes, I too grew frustrated.

We had already lost. Thats what the look on their faces told me and that we all might as well go home, but then my instructor offered a bit of comic relief to lighten the mood. After everyone shared a hearty laugh, our show started to come together. After we got through two clean runs of the show we ended the rehearsal feeling proud and geared up for the competition.

Following a bit of a frenzy in a cramped bathroom that consisted of hairspray, bobby pins, costumes, and makeup, we loaded the bus and headed to Holtom City, Texas. The Fighter by Gym Class Heroes pumped through my earphones as I envisioned performing a perfect routine, its lyrics exciting me with their relevance.

The ride to our destination lasted about an hour, and I grew calmer, yet more anxious with every mile. My mind held last nights disaster on replay as I prayed relentlessly for the stars to side with us, even if for just a moment. I yearned to witness the fruits of our labor, and I knew that we possessed the ability to achieve greatness.

Eventually we arrive, and the competition coordinators lead us to the theatre area where we sat and left our stuff in a previously assigned area. The eyes of other guards already there stared up at us as we made our way down the aisle, but something within changed since rehearsal, so intimidation eluded us. Once we put our stuff down we took our turn and looked around,returning their judgement.
We inspected their hairstyles, costumes, and whether or not we recognized them from previous competitions. One of our girls pointed out a group dressed in these beautiful white dresses with just a sprinkle of sequins on the top, complete with a pair of black converse. We exchanged ideas concerning the concept of their show, and I wondered if another group took a look at us and inquired to do the same.
A short amount of time existed between our arrival and warm up so I quickly gathered up the girls for some encouraging words, from a former member sent via text. Her humor and colorful language served the same purpose as the hearty laugh we shared back in rehearsal . She succeeded in wiping out any lingering nerves, especially in the first timers and I silently thanked her.

Warm up couldn’t have gone any smoother. We approached everything with an air of confidence I hadn’t seen before, and the energy among us was inspiring. I sensed that the uncertainty from earlier vanished, replaced by a fire in everyones eyes. My instructor felt the fire too, raising his voice in a positive way this time. My nerves were gone as well, adrenaline pumped through my body instead.
We lined up, and were lead to a hallway that lead into the arena. We could hear another guard still performing, the crowd cheering with their every catch. Hearing the crowd’s roar at such close proximity made my heart beat a little faster, but once I looked at the faces of my closest friends, each of them giving me a reassuring smile, I knew that the stars would align where they were intended. With that, I took a deep breath and peaced washed over me.
The ending note of their music sounded, followed by an applause. I took another deep breath for good measure as we entered the arena. We stared, our eyes wide. The colossal size of the place overwhelmed our senses. Three mountainous concrete levels of seating stretched high above us, the seats filled with parents and fans of the sport as well as other competing guards. Seated right in front were two judges looking particularly intimidating. We paid no attention to the other guard still scrambling to fold up their floor before their time ran out, which results in a penalty. Once they cleared, our floor crew rolled out our tarp, we set our equipment and assumed our positions. In the silence following the announcement of our name just before the start of our music, I said one last little prayer and closed my eyes.
The music started and it began, I moved effortlessly through the improv dance section and onto the rifle work. After I caught my first toss in perfect synchronization with the girls next to me and the crowd cheered I knew.

Everything fell perfectly into their respective places. We brought life and excitement to our every move, every piece of equipment that went up came down into someone’s hands, and the responses from the crowd fueled us that much further. All the while our eyes locked on the judges with an intensity that demanded their attention. When I rolled up from the ground, hit that last pose and the crowd cheered, a smile involuntarily spread across my face. Because we knew, that we just played a part in something great. The crowds approval, loud and unrelenting, could still be heard after we’d existed the arena.

A few moments later, I stood back in the arena next to my sister officers amongst an arch of officers from the other competing guards as the host went through her usual spiel about the high level of talent that day and how she looked forward to seeing how our routines progressed throughout the season. No offense to her, but her words were meaningless to me. The only words I cared about about were the names of the guards who placed in the top three.

Top three. The only placements that received a trophy, that even received the privilege of being announced. Anxiety consumed me. My hands shook, my body trembled, and I felt as if the entire arena could hear my heart pounding inside my chest. Finally, they came to announcing third place. Sometime during that dramatic pause I could practically hear them calling our name. Somehow I knew, that third place trophy belonged to us.

At the sound of our name, the rest of the guard stood and rejoiced as we executed our salute. Everything after that became irrelevant. I missed the announcements of first and second because I was lost in my own bliss. Immediately after the ceremony we quickly pushed through the crowd in search of the rest of us. We reunited in the cafeteria area just outside the arena. We immediately got to hugging each other, the trophy making its way into all of our hands at one point or another.

It’s not about what placement we received, but the resilience we exhibited following that horrific performance the night before when everything went wrong, and that we were able to come back the next day and perform like they were paying us! In our eyes, achieving our redemption was the equivalent to winning first place. That’s the source of our happiness, and the smile on our faces.

Later as we rode home on the bus, our trophy in tow, I replayed the events of that day and filled with excitement thinking about the amazing things we are destined to accomplish this season. I am so blessed to be able to do what I love the most in this world with the best group of people I know.