reach.

                If you think I’m trying to be cocky, don’t read this. If you think you’re better at soccer than me, you probably are. If you think you’re an intelligent person yet you don’t usually see the lesson in a long but simple story, log off. That being said…

Everybody has a moment or two that is stuck in their memory, tattooed on their minds. These moments are what define us. They're like a map to who we are, telling us what in our lives we consider important and worthy of multiple mental replays. There is always a lesson to be learned in what we accomplish; this is mine.

It was the biggest game of the season. I’m not just saying that. It seriously was. The smell of the warm summer night air filled our determined lungs while we jogged the length of the freshly cut soccer field in the stadium of Johnny Cake, warming up our muscles in preparation. We all knew the capability of our team; there was no doubt that we could do this if we played to our potential. The bright stadium lights, along with the pressure, were now on us.

This game was the game that would determine our placement for the coming year. Win this game and we move up a level next season. The stadium was packed full of families and friends, people I was not about to let down. The game whistle blew; the game started.

              First half passed quickly, we were tied at halftime. The mosquitos were now biting, and second half was beginning. We made our way down and back on the field, fighting, holding our own. There was now about ten minutes left in the game. I knew this was it; no more chances after the ending whistle blew. 

I had never wanted something so bad.

I was back in the defensive half of the field; the ball was being fought over about halfway up in the offensive. All of a sudden, it was a loose ball, played to the center- straight into a gap. Somehow I decided, right then and there, that this was my ball. I took off, without thinking. It was far, so far away, but all I knew was that it was mine- it didn’t matter that I was half a field-length behind it.

                  I still remember that feeling. I have never run that hard in my life. 
                 
                 Sure, I had been in track freshman and sophomore year, and even though I could not have cared less about it back then, I was decent. But never before had I felt the way I did on that field. The line on a track, marked ‘finish,’ and the rolling ball in a small but very open gap… these are two very different things, goals, motivators. Here and now on the soccer field, I had a purpose; a destination, somewhere I needed to be.

My heart pounded, the noise of the crowd faded away, and each stride I took propelled me closer to that ball. I had nothing in my mind, nothing, except for the thought that I would get there first. It was my ball.

My long legs covered that field faster than ever before, closing the space rapidly. Nobody saw me coming, but all of a sudden, I was there. I tapped the ball just in time, right before the Minneapolis defense got the chance to clear it. I had won. I had beaten everyone else to that ball. It was mine.

                  I’d like to be able to say that I broke away, shot, scored, and gave autographs out after the game. However, my momentum ended up crashing right into their defense, causing me to summersault through the air and onto the ground. I remember seeing stars of blackness when I stood up; I had no idea where the ball was as my teammate came up to me. I remember hearing “Dang, good run manda,” but not being able to get words out of my mouth. I was so confused. That run, along with the fall, had taken everything I had out of me. I mean… At least we got the call.

                  In the end, we won the game. It was amazing, but what I remember most was not the score on the board. It was the crazy feeling of truly giving it my all that has stayed with me. I work hard and try my best in most everything that I do, but this time I had brought out of myself what I didn’t even know I had.

                  The people that came up to me after that game were dumbfounded, trying to figure out where I had come from to get to that ball, amazed at the speed they didn’t know anyone on the team had. It’s funny, because it just sounds like a simple run, but probably any one of my teammates or anyone watching that game knows and remembers this play. 

                  All of this is very flattering, but it’s not what made the night so memorable for me. It was merely the fact that for me and only me, that run was a mark of progress, the ability to go further and harder than I knew was possible. I can’t explain it on paper; to many it’s just one run, one night, one instant in time. That’s okay with me though, you don’t have to understand it. What matters is that I understand it. That moment, that one moment, shows me that I am capable of much more than I’m aware. It tells me that I can do anything, get to any finish line, if I feel the determination. I learned to never let anyone tell me how fast I can’t run, how good I can’t be, the places life can’t take me. When I know what I want, nobody stands in the way. Try and faze me. I dare ya.

hey.

Hi my name is Amanda.

My favorite animal is a horse and a polar bear.

I am 5'9" and a half. Taller than Trent Richardson by .25". I should have been drafted before him.

My favorite color is when ocean water goes from shallow to deep.

My favorite sport is soccer and football and dance and gymnastics and surfing and track.

I'm really bored.

I haven't worn jeans since senior year in high school.

Halloween costumes don't count for that.

I hate accents, babies, MTV, polka dots, ramen, and cats.

My favorite food is watermelon and cereal.

My major is graphic design, minor in business administration.

My favorite show is Phineas & Ferb and American Horror Story and Friday Night Lights and 90210 and Gossip Girl and Arthur.

Some people don't catch my humor so they think I'm stupid and fat.

I feel really uncomfortable showering without working out before. Like, what's the point.

This is really entertaining me right now.

I love talking sports with people to learn more. I'm genuinely curious.

I have a bad memory. I forget endings to stories, grudges I'm holding, and why I walked upstairs.

But I remember every single random nice thing anyone has said to me.

I've wanted an old red pickup my whole life.

I watch dance YouTube videos when I'm bored. I could replay a good dancer forever.

I love being called manda.

Good thing you wasted your life reading this! Bye

changes.

I’ve been realizing lately that your perception of yourself changes a lot, or at least it should, from high school to college.

Your high school relationships are formed (or already exist) mostly by outside factors: who you spend time with determines who you are friends with. It can be through the sports your parents decided to put you in, the class you were randomly placed into, etc.- being in the right place, on the right team, a resident of the right neighborhood, …at the right time. Outside forces. Along with the fact that cliques do not intermingle, this creates your friend group.

College provides a complete break from that logic. Sure, you still meet people through shared sports, classes, and dorm floors. However, it’s now about picking the people you want to surround yourself with. Nobody is above anyone else, nobody is sitting around asking, “Why is SHE talking to HIM...?” You have the right to make crazy friends. You have the right to make weird friends. And they don’t all have to be friends with, or even know, each other. You get to pick. And as simple as that is, it’s hardly the way high school worked.

It’s funny, because the roles kind of become reversed. At good ol Eastview, and any other high school, kids are put on a pedestal. You know the ones- those who were admired among others and knew it. They’re the ones who have a bit of a rough time in the real world. You are no longer idolized. You’re stripped of having the expectation that people will know and care about you.

I mean, even academics-wise, I can use myself as an example. My teachers in high school knew I was smart, and they respected me because of that. The fact that I had “National Honors Society Member” “Decent ACT Score Achiever” and “AP Calculus BC Student” as titles, these were all very relevant.

The minute you throw your graduation cap, though, none of that matters. To any professor or potential employer, I’m a college girl who must not be much different from the other 7,000 college girls here at UMD.

It’s the same socially- to any girl or guy I meet, I’m just another student here; they know nothing about my high school life, and I know nothing about theirs. It’s definitely a weird transition to make. But making this transition is the key to having a good time in college or not. Accept that you’re in a new place, and embrace all the new people you’ll encounter.

That whole term “stuck in high school” can be tough. There are so many ways to define it. I know a few (okay let's be honest, there's exactly three) people that I’d consider to be caught up in it. I used to wonder if I was one of those people, not able to leave the high school rut. I don’t really think I am though, or ever was. I do have quite a few younger friends, and I love, miss, and keep in touch with them all. The difference between having friends that are in high school and being “stuck” in high school, though, is simple: attempting to hold onto the status that high school gave you is the tell-all sign of being completely and utterly stuck.

It’s kind of like that Lucas Smith guy in Season One of Friday Night Lights. If you don’t watch FNL, I don’t know what you’re doing with your life. Lucas returns to Dillon for Homecoming and everyone loves and respects him- he was the captain of the team way back when. However, after he graduated, he went off to Dallas, and did nothing with his life. I very clearly remember that Principal Taylor goes, “You know what it is, it’s this town.” She’s saying that once he leaves the place where he’s used to being worshiped, he doesn’t know what to do with himself. He returns to it, because it’s the only thing he really knows.

Don’t be a Lucas. The real world can be a scary place, but you have to embrace it. One of the biggest things that I DON’T regret is talking to a variety of people in high school. In the end, groups mean nothing. You’re going to be on your own at some point, so start now. Pay no attention to anyone you think may be judging you. And for goodness sake, be humble. You sometimes don’t realize the pedestal put underneath you until it’s not there anymore.

wake up calls.

My friend got a call this morning saying she needed to fly out to DC and say goodbye to her dad. He has had cancer. She flew from Duluth this morning, and will be returning back to school knowing that her dad will be gone, just gone, in the next few days.

Not a lot makes me cry. I found all this out on the way to dinner tonight, and ended up breaking down in the dining center. I hate that.

            It does not matter if you know death is coming or not. Really, in the scheme of things, death is always on its way.

            There has been a lot of death in the past 12 months. It is one of the hardest things EVER to see good people going through losing someone important to them.

            I had a dream a couple months ago that my own dad died. The only thing I couldn’t stop saying was, “you were supposed to be there for my wedding.”

            Not one person in your life is assured a tomorrow. If you go to bed thinking anything along the lines of “I should..” or “I want..” or “I wonder..” you need to change something. I’m guilty of the same thing; a few months ago, after the four girls from NDSU got in a crash, I typed couple pages with one line each dedicated to every one of my friends, as well as some people that I wish I knew better, some that would be shocked to have been mentioned. I’m too scared to share it- the title of it in my documents is “If I Die.” Sad, I know. So, I’m not even following my own advice.

In reality, all of these people deserve to know what they mean to me, and I should be able to acquire the guts to tell them all. But that’s exactly why people don’t do it- it’s NOT easy. It puts you outside of your comfort zone, it forces you to get all serious and sappy on people, and, quite frankly, it forces you to put yourself out there. However, today, April 17^th, 2012, might be your last day, ever. On the other end of the spectrum, today might be the last day for your cousin. That kid you graduated with but never got to know. Your brother. Both your parents. You. Do. Not. Know. And that is literally one of the scariest things in this life of ours.

            You need to remember you are going to die. This is the only way to dodge the bullet of the thought that you have something to lose.

Sometimes when I look around, all I see are people that have it so good and don’t even realize it, they don’t even know how to appreciate a thing WHILE they have it. And that is just so hard to watch.

            Treat others kindly. Eat healthy. Get enough sleep, get good grades, find love. Why? Cause you only live once. You only live one time. You have one body, treat it right, respect yourself. You only have one family, do NOT take advantage of that. You only have one life, 100 years to influence, to impact the lives of as many people as you can. Treasure your life, and treasure every person IN your life. Nobody promised you a tomorrow, don’t be arrogant enough to think you’ll get one.