Finally.
After four plus hours of working our tails off, they gave us water.
Taking a long refreshing drink and enjoying our five minute break,
I sit back and think about why I do this.
Why do I do this anyways?
It's hard work, and little reward.
Zero recognition from the other sports teams.
Zero free time.
And that's not even half of it.
You spend hours trying to master just one piece of equipment,
and the instructors only notice when you mess up.
You slave away all day trying to get one toss right,
or one dance move perfected.
And all you get for your efforts is a bruise and a ton of soreness.
So why do I do it?
What is it that keeps me coming back here year after year?
There are obviously more reasons not to do it.
Then I look over and see two of my friends goofing off.
I happen to overhear a conversation about our last competition.
I look over at my instructors and see they're just as tired as we are.
Then I realize my answer.
I don't let the difficulty stop me because I knew it would be hard when I signed up.
But it's more than that.
I look around the gym at my teammates.
My family.
They're the reason I keep coming back.
Without them, the sport would mean nothing and I'd drop it in a heartbeat.
I know that I'd give the world for them if I could.
But for now, dedication seems to be enough.
Break's up. Time to get back to work.
I run back to my flag and prepare to do it again.
The same set that we just spent thirty minutes cleaning.
It's annoying sometimes.
And sometimes it seems like their are more reasons against the sport than for it.
But if you gave me the chance not to do it,
I'd call you crazy and get back to work.
Because I love this sport.