Today, I'm a successful young professional. I'm creative. I'm a wonderful husband, brother, son, and friend. I’m a competitive person, and I can fall victim to perfectionism at times. I've struggled mightily with my mental health throughout my young life; before, during, and after my time as a college athlete. While I have too many regrets and painful memories to count, I wouldn't trade my journey for the world because it made me who I am today.

Fast forward now I’m a senior about to graduate. Except it hasn’t been a normal senior year. I was training for my last track season in December one day. I went on a run on campus. As I entered the crosswalk I was told I was struck by a vehicle going above the speed limit. That right there ended my running career.

Significant changes come with big decisions, and I put myself first at this point in the story. I thought back to my Dad explaining the significance of living in the moment and conquering the day. On this day, conquering meant overcoming my fear of stepping away from my identity as an athlete.

For as long as I can remember sports have been one of the greatest things in my life. Playing sports not only brought out the competitive, determined side of me, but it quickly became an outlet for me. Being on the field was a place where nothing else mattered but the game.

We pull for our family, our friends and our teammates. We pull to not disappoint our coaches. We pull for the glory, and we pull for everything we are not able to control in life. At some point, we begin pulling for ourselves, and it all becomes worth it. That is one of the best lessons that rowing has taught me, that success and perseverance is mental, that when you really want something and you believe in yourself, everything is possible. So you endure, and without realizing, you cross the 2000 meter mark.

But I came to realize things about myself after that meeting. During my time at Delaware, field hockey became not my outlet but my enemy. I was working so hard towards something I didn’t even think I wanted anymore. And while leaving that school meant leaving behind my childhood dream, it also allowed me to find myself again.

As athletes we’re constantly told to run. Not only are we told we have to run, but we can never be slower than yesterday. Taking a step back or achieving a slower time is seen as unprecedented; it doesn’t meet your expectation as an athlete to be worse than you were yesterday. You are shameful or undedicated if you don’t consistently improve on your skills. You can’t slow down, you can’t take a break; you must keep going. In fact, in a moment where you might feel an inclination to run slower, you are reprimanded for running faster.

Coming off one of my best seasons of my soccer career in my sophomore year of high school, I started associating with people I had not before. All of a sudden I was wrapped up in what the success of soccer brought me and thought I was in one of the highest points in my life. Coming into my junior year of high school, I was looking forward to the soccer season, but also for the new attention and happiness I had gotten from the relationship I had just begun. It felt great. At that time I thought my life couldn’t get any better. Little did I know how wrong these hopeful feelings were.