Vaulting into the Unknown

Vaulting into the Unknown

I was a painfully cold day in April of 2018. The ground was covered in snow, and about 80 sweaty high-schoolers were piled into the gym, with only the sounds of our coach and the weak air conditioning ringing in our ears. “Someone’s gotta try it!”, Coach Boone barked. He was referring to the fact that no one had responded to his request that pole vaulters should follow coach DuBlock immediately. I gave some thought to pole vaulting before that day. It was mostly my friends telling me that I had to do it to compete on varsity, as my speed had hit an improvement wall my junior year prior. After no response to the coach’s order, I walked over to where the pole vault coach was standing to the sound of my friends laughing and yelling “Let’s gooooo Leo!”. Soon, a couple timid followed. one fellow senior, and four underclassmen. I’m not going to lie and say this was the best decision of my life, but I will say that this decision led to a great end to my senior year. This story is an example of how taking chances on the unknown leads to more satisfaction in life.

One week had passed since my fateful decision. I was at the University of Minnesota Track and Field, on University Avenue and it was the first Varsity meet of the year. I was one of three people there to pole vault; one other a returning vaulter from the year before, and a senior who started this year with me. My body was shaking with fear as I knew my only skills were jumping, and holding onto the pole as tight as I could. As I watched the other athletes warm-up, I saw them getting really really high. You see unlike me, they actually had form. They could even bend the darn thing. I knew I would have to try it for the first time soon, and fail in front of everybody.

I got my grip set up, put my helmet on, and stood there in my spandex waiting for my turn. There was no one ahead of me which meant it was my turn. I gave a look to my coach--he nodded affirmatively but tentatively. I gave a look to my friends--they smiled anxiously awaiting my laughable attempt. I started to run full speed ahead with no looking back and as I approach plant position, I hesitated with a stutter step, jumped, and went really high! Wait.... I'm not going forward. As I realized I started to panic and let go of the pole. See, people usually land on this soft, mat thing that protects your fall. My landing was straight on my buttocks, on the hardwood floor from 8 feet high. It was maybe the most embarrassed I have been in my life, as I gave a look of  “aw shucks!” to my coach and planted my bosom on a bag of ice for the next 10 minutes. My day was ended abruptly.

After I built up the courage to show my face at practice in front of all the people that witnessed my dreadful “attempt” at the University of Minnesota, practice wasn’t too bad. For starters the snow had melted, along with the fact that I began to actually learn how to pole vault. Through the next 6 weeks, I became best friends with my fellow senior pole vaulter (we both were awful together). I also got to watch my friends beg for water during their sprint workouts while I listened to music and sat in my chair waiting for my turn to vault. By the end of the six weeks, I was not an embarrassment to the sport. In fact, I jumped an impressive by my standards, 10 feet in the True Team State Meet, and contributed Two(2!) points for my team. We unfortunately ended up losing by 7 points, but I wasn’t sad about that. I was sad because that was going to be the last time I pole vault in a long time.

Through that whole process I learned one valuable thing. The chance I took, which was a huge commitment of time to something I had never done before, gave me the best spring I could have asked for. I was able to contribute to our 3rd place in state track team, I made a lasting friend, and now when people ask me what sports I played in highschool, I can include being a pole vaulter--something that sparks some great conversations!