I could say that I believe in hope, but I don’t. I just don’t see how wanting something is going to bring it to you. I could say that I believe in the power of love. But I don’t. Maybe it’s because I haven't been in love, but I just don’t get it. Sometimes I believe in intelligence, but that's only after I do well on a Biology test. So what do I believe in? I believe in the power of the community; the force of working as a whole, as one, to accomplish a common goal. I believe in the strength of sacrifice; how giving everything for someone or something is the biggest gift there is. But, most of all, I believe in dedication. Olympians aren’t made from quitters. Honor students aren’t your typical apathetic teenagers. Politicians aren’t the lazy liars that the media makes them out to be, and, honestly, I hope to God that I’m not either. Muhmmad Ali once said, “I hated every minute of training, but I said, ‘Don't quit. Suffer now and live the rest of your life as a champion.’” I can’t even begin to describe how real this is to me. Hours, days spent in the field, shooting arrow after arrow, the thousands of times I’ve pulled back my mint green stretch band, wondering why, why I don’t just quit. If I stopped training, just shot once or twice a week I could be okay. But I don’t want to be just okay. I want to be the best. You know those times when you just can’t run up Gallows lane one more time, or it’s impossible to stay up another minute later without causing the phone to be officially be glued to your ear, even though your friend sits, crying on the other end. When you simply cannot listen another second to your sister’s supposedly “amazing” voice, though you do anyway; this is dedication. To me, dedication isn’t just finishing a tournament, though a dismally low score. To me, it is staying with friends, through the fluorescent yellow sweatshirts, failing Western Civ grades, ruined outfits; through thick and thin, literally and figuratively. Dedication is striving for the best for someone else when they can’t do it on their own. So, why do I believe in dedication? It's simple. It pushes you past your supposed limit; when your mind says you can't do it any longer, when it's pleading with you to stop, to just give up. Over the hurdles society sets in front of you; past the time when your head really isn't in it anymore; when the aching of your brain overtakes the desire of your heart. I searched the true meaning of determination, to see if mine was even close to that of Ms. Merriam Webster. Dictionary.com informed me that dedication is “the quality of being resolute; firmness of purpose”, which, as much as I try to avoid fitting into a definition, is true.
Olympians aren’t made from quitters. Honor students aren’t your typical apathetic teenagers. Politicians aren’t the lazy liars that the media makes them out to be, and, honestly, I hope to God that I’m not either. Muhmmad Ali once said, “I hated every minute of training, but I said, ‘Don't quit. Suffer now and live the rest of your life as a champion.’” I can’t even begin to describe how real this is to me. Hours, days spent in the field, shooting arrow after arrow, the thousands of times I’ve pulled back my mint green stretch band, wondering why, why I don’t just quit. If I stopped training, just shot once or twice a week I could be okay. But I don’t want to be just okay. I want to be the best.
You know those times when you just can’t run up Gallows lane one more time, or it’s impossible to stay up another minute later without causing the phone to be officially be glued to your ear, even though your friend sits, crying on the other end. When you simply cannot listen another second to your sister’s supposedly “amazing” voice, though you do anyway; this is dedication. To me, dedication isn’t just finishing a tournament, though a dismally low score. To me, it is staying with friends, through the fluorescent yellow sweatshirts, failing Western Civ grades, ruined outfits; through thick and thin, literally and figuratively. Dedication is striving for the best for someone else when they can’t do it on their own.
So, why do I believe in dedication? It's simple. It pushes you past your supposed limit; when your mind says you can't do it any longer, when it's pleading with you to stop, to just give up. Over the hurdles society sets in front of you; past the time when your head really isn't in it anymore; when the aching of your brain overtakes the desire of your heart.
I searched the true meaning of determination, to see if mine was even close to that of Ms. Merriam Webster. Dictionary.com informed me that dedication is “the quality of being resolute; firmness of purpose”, which, as much as I try to avoid fitting into a definition, is true.