Irina took a deep breath, trying to calm herself before it was her turn to go up. It didn't work. Her mother sat in the stands and smiled at her. She knew how nervous her daughter got at her competitions. Irina ran her finger over the hem of her navy blue shirt. She checked to make sure her shoes were laced up properly for the sixth time. "Calm down, Irina." She whispered to herself. "Just get over the bar. All you have to do is get over the bar." Nervously twirling her blonde hair around her finger, she waited for the announcer to call her name.
"Затем - Ирина Спаскай" the announcer said loudly. Next is Irina Spasky. Irina brushed her shirt off and stood up.
She began. One two three strides, and the crowd began to melt away. Four five six, and she couldn't hear anything except her heart pounding in her chest. Seven eight nine, and the only thing she could see war the bar. She got faster. Ten. Her body was extended in perfect form, the pole nearly vertical with the ground. Her arms were straight, her right arm posed directly above her head. Right before her left foot hit the ground, her pole hit the back bottom of the box, and she was off. That was when she always left our world. Every brain cell was focused on her movements, her muscles responding instantly in a well known pattern. She didn't see how high she had gotten, nor did she hear the cheering crowd until her body hit the mat, and her mind snapped back.
At the end of the competition, she stood on the highest block and smiled as the judge pinned a medal to her shirt. The bright red and yellow of the ribbon stood out against the dark fabric, making it all the more noticeable. That was fine with her. Irina Spasky, champion pole vaulter. Yes, she liked the sound of that. When the spectators and other competitors began to leave, her mother hugged her tight.
"I knew you could do it Irina. You always do." Irina laughed.
"Thanks mama."
