I am really struggling with the last couple paragraphs. I know they're weak, but I'm having trouble adjusting them. Any advice/constructive criticism is very welcome! Here is the essay:
My family is notoriously terrible at sports. Musical talent is common among the Warfields, but athletics? Certainly not. From an early age it was clear that I was no exception. I was plainly the underdog in my children's ballet class, and nearly every lesson ended in tears. I also failed beginners swimming - not once, but twice. Undeterred, I tried figure skating, too, and while the results were less disastrous, I was by no means a star pupil.
When I quit figure skating at the beginning of junior high, my faith in my athletic ability was at an all-time low. Still unwilling to give up entirely, however, I decided that I would give myself one more chance; I would try one final sport and give it my absolute best. If I didn't succeed, I would put athletics behind me for good. Conveniently, my school's small volleyball team was open to all who wanted to join. This, I decided, would be my challenge.
As expected, things didn't go so well; I couldn't pass, I couldn't set, and at 4' 10", I certainly could not spike the ball. In short, I had no business whatsoever on a volleyball court. But I couldn't bring myself to quit. I felt a need to prove myself - to complete my self-imposed challenge. And so, frustrated as I was, I persevered.
The process was very slow at first, but I eventually began to see signs of progress. The more I improved, the more I enjoyed myself, and the more I enjoyed myself, the more I seemed to improve. And so it went. The following year, to my family's great surprise, I rejoined the team without hesitation.
In my freshman year of high school, I played on the junior varsity team. By the end of the season I was moved up to the varsity team. It was then that I really began to gain more confidence in my ability, and the sense of athletic inferiority that I had once felt began to disintegrate. This is not to say that I am now an extraordinary volleyball talent, but I have certainly progressed beyond anything I would have thought possible.
I still feel a thrill, a nervous anticipation, whenever I set foot on the court. But now, it seems, the excitement outweighs the fear; I have learned to curb the nervous jitters, and not to play in fear of making mistakes. Without mistakes, I would never have improved.
I feel that my experience with volleyball has taught me to challenge myself and to step out of my comfort zone. As the next stage of my life approaches and I break away from the life I've always known and enter into something completely new and different, I am certain that these skills will help me a great deal. Most importantly, my seven years of volleyball have taught me the invaluable lesson that with determination and perseverance, success can be achieved.
My family is notoriously terrible at sports. Musical talent is common among the Warfields, but athletics? Certainly not. From an early age it was clear that I was no exception. I was plainly the underdog in my children's ballet class, and nearly every lesson ended in tears. I also failed beginners swimming - not once, but twice. Undeterred, I tried figure skating, too, and while the results were less disastrous, I was by no means a star pupil.
When I quit figure skating at the beginning of junior high, my faith in my athletic ability was at an all-time low. Still unwilling to give up entirely, however, I decided that I would give myself one more chance; I would try one final sport and give it my absolute best. If I didn't succeed, I would put athletics behind me for good. Conveniently, my school's small volleyball team was open to all who wanted to join. This, I decided, would be my challenge.
As expected, things didn't go so well; I couldn't pass, I couldn't set, and at 4' 10", I certainly could not spike the ball. In short, I had no business whatsoever on a volleyball court. But I couldn't bring myself to quit. I felt a need to prove myself - to complete my self-imposed challenge. And so, frustrated as I was, I persevered.
The process was very slow at first, but I eventually began to see signs of progress. The more I improved, the more I enjoyed myself, and the more I enjoyed myself, the more I seemed to improve. And so it went. The following year, to my family's great surprise, I rejoined the team without hesitation.
In my freshman year of high school, I played on the junior varsity team. By the end of the season I was moved up to the varsity team. It was then that I really began to gain more confidence in my ability, and the sense of athletic inferiority that I had once felt began to disintegrate. This is not to say that I am now an extraordinary volleyball talent, but I have certainly progressed beyond anything I would have thought possible.
I still feel a thrill, a nervous anticipation, whenever I set foot on the court. But now, it seems, the excitement outweighs the fear; I have learned to curb the nervous jitters, and not to play in fear of making mistakes. Without mistakes, I would never have improved.
I feel that my experience with volleyball has taught me to challenge myself and to step out of my comfort zone. As the next stage of my life approaches and I break away from the life I've always known and enter into something completely new and different, I am certain that these skills will help me a great deal. Most importantly, my seven years of volleyball have taught me the invaluable lesson that with determination and perseverance, success can be achieved.
