Sorry this took so long, but I’ve been busy taking finals and packing. Anyways, I recently made a decision that marks a transition of sorts. During my freshman year at Yale, I was a member of Yale Track & Field. Unfortunately, a number of reasons have forced me to reassess my position, ultimately leading to my leaving the team. Basically, it boils down to four reasons: 1) oppressive time commitment 2) loss of passion for the sport 3) contempt for the “sprint track culture” 4) devastating injuries.
In high school, I considered myself a well-rounded student-athlete with interest in both sports and academia. I was the school track star and model student who also provided community service, planned school events, and worked on interesting projects. However, during my freshman year in college, I was blown away by just how much Yale had to offer. Track practice, which meets six times a week and lasts four hours each session, seriously limited my options. I did not have time to explore and join groups or organizations that I was interested in. Track practice even became a drag on my social life. To me, track practice seemed like a waste of time, time that could be better spent elsewhere. Even during practice, much of the time was spent dicking around. I would warm up for 30 minutes, take a few jumps, and then have to wait for everyone else to finish up. In the weight room, it was much of the same. People would lift for a set and then stop to chat. If practice were run more efficiently, it could be concluded within two hours as opposed to the usual four.
As the year progressed, I also lost my passion for the sport. Track was extremely important to me throughout high school. I loved the thrill of competition, the gratifying feeling of self-improvement, and the personal bests that came from hours spent in the weight room and on the track. All this disappeared in college. Maybe it was because there was just so much going on at Yale that I wanted to be free to explore as I pleased. Eventually, track became a duty, an obligation that I was forced to meet day in and day out. I grew to resent track practice. Furthermore, I missed the camaraderie and culture of high school track. It was partly my fault. The fact that I was considering quitting early on in the season made me feel awkward and even guilty around the other athletes. Or maybe I was just too nerdy. On the track team, especially the sprint squad, there is pressure to play it cool, to completely disregard the academic aspect of Yale and instead view college as a delirious cross between track and partying. I guess I won’t ever be cool enough to join in on the conversations that involve “butt-sex or bangin’ bitches.” I do not mean that everyone on the team acts like that. Nor do I condemn the occasional lewd banter that almost all guys partake in. I just find it difficult to fit in with a bunch of people who have completely different outlooks on college and who would freely throw away their opportunity to achieve a level of learning that only Yale can provide.
Lastly, I was by hampered by two devastating injuries, a torn hamstring and severely sprained left ankle. As a horizontal jumper, I require a strong plant foot to explode off the ground into the jump, and consequently the ankle sprain was especially dehibilitating. Instead of taking time off to recover, I foolishly kept practicing and re-aggravated my injuries. In this case, my mother strongly advocated quitting the team for fear of perpetual injury to myself.
Currently, I feel liberated and happy… ecstatic even. I spoke with coach about quitting this past Monday, and his terms with very fair. He suggested that I take some time off to experience life as a regular Yale student, and if I ever happened to miss track, he would keep the door open and allow me to return to the team. Before the meeting, I was pretty adamant about my decision to quit forever. However, I will consider his terms and see how I feel when the time comes. As for now, I am free and ready to enjoy my experience in
