I'm currently in the process of applying to the University of Chicago and I would like some help with my essay. I find that sometimes when I take a narrative approach to writing, the sentences and wording in general can be a bit hard to follow and may stray off topic. I would really appreciate it if anyone could point out any flaws my essay has or just give general critique.
Prompt: Little pigs, french hens, a family of bears. Blind mice, musketeers, the Fates. Parts of an atom, laws of thought, a guideline for composition. Omne trium perfectum? Create your own group of threes, and describe why and how they fit together.
Karate is not just a physical thing.
That realization literally hit me as my opponent's padded foot smacked my head with a loud thwack and sent me crumpling to the ground. And if I were to be completely straightforward, it was inevitable. I wasn't thinking. In fact, I was panicking and losing spectacularly. Totally understandable of course, it was my first time sparring in a tournament and I had the dubious privilege of being matched up last year's national champion. I remember trembling before the match, certain that I was going to lose. So down went my spirit. As the match began, I got scared and forgot practically every technique I was taught. So there went my mind. Finally, I got kicked in the head, and so down went my body.
Another round began, and the champion introduced another kick to my ribs. There was no way I could defend myself with just instinct, as evidenced by yet another foot to the gut. But my body felt like a mess, with no clear direction at all. I watched in dismay as my wild jab was almost casually grabbed and swiftly countered with a haymaker right to my lips, drawing blood.
A sort of pattern developed, with blows raining down on me with alarming frequency. As the margin of scores increased, I practically gave up. I felt the fatigue in my shoulders, and they slumped just a little more whenever another round started. There came a point where I stopped caring, and began to throw random kicks at him, hoping one them would connect. It never happened.
The match ended soon after and while my opponent walked away with first place, my dad helped me limp towards the family car. During the drive home, I brought with me a few souvenirs: a pseudo-bronze medal, some bruised ribs, and a harsh lesson.
Karate is not just a physical thing.
That stuck with me even longer than the bruises did. When my ribs stopped aching, I started training again. More importantly, I started learning again. I realized that self-defence required a holistic approach, where the body, mind, and spirit were three pieces rather than three puzzles. When I threw a punch, of course it needed to be strong, but it also needed to be thought out and done properly, so I didn't open myself up for another concussion. On top of that, I needed confidence. When I let myself be intimidated by my opponent's reputation, I had already lost.
Karate is not just a physical thing, it is a sport that demands thinking and faith as well. When someone can apply all three together, the results are amazing because they all complement each other marvellously. When the body does a powerful technique, the mind ensures it is done with purpose and precision. When the body gets bruised and the mind starts having second thoughts, the spirit gives the strength to carry on. I know that now. When the next tournament comes around, I'm going to put my mind, body, and spirit into it. And if I wind up facing the champion from last year, I'm going to win.
Prompt: Little pigs, french hens, a family of bears. Blind mice, musketeers, the Fates. Parts of an atom, laws of thought, a guideline for composition. Omne trium perfectum? Create your own group of threes, and describe why and how they fit together.
Karate is not just a physical thing.
That realization literally hit me as my opponent's padded foot smacked my head with a loud thwack and sent me crumpling to the ground. And if I were to be completely straightforward, it was inevitable. I wasn't thinking. In fact, I was panicking and losing spectacularly. Totally understandable of course, it was my first time sparring in a tournament and I had the dubious privilege of being matched up last year's national champion. I remember trembling before the match, certain that I was going to lose. So down went my spirit. As the match began, I got scared and forgot practically every technique I was taught. So there went my mind. Finally, I got kicked in the head, and so down went my body.
Another round began, and the champion introduced another kick to my ribs. There was no way I could defend myself with just instinct, as evidenced by yet another foot to the gut. But my body felt like a mess, with no clear direction at all. I watched in dismay as my wild jab was almost casually grabbed and swiftly countered with a haymaker right to my lips, drawing blood.
A sort of pattern developed, with blows raining down on me with alarming frequency. As the margin of scores increased, I practically gave up. I felt the fatigue in my shoulders, and they slumped just a little more whenever another round started. There came a point where I stopped caring, and began to throw random kicks at him, hoping one them would connect. It never happened.
The match ended soon after and while my opponent walked away with first place, my dad helped me limp towards the family car. During the drive home, I brought with me a few souvenirs: a pseudo-bronze medal, some bruised ribs, and a harsh lesson.
Karate is not just a physical thing.
That stuck with me even longer than the bruises did. When my ribs stopped aching, I started training again. More importantly, I started learning again. I realized that self-defence required a holistic approach, where the body, mind, and spirit were three pieces rather than three puzzles. When I threw a punch, of course it needed to be strong, but it also needed to be thought out and done properly, so I didn't open myself up for another concussion. On top of that, I needed confidence. When I let myself be intimidated by my opponent's reputation, I had already lost.
Karate is not just a physical thing, it is a sport that demands thinking and faith as well. When someone can apply all three together, the results are amazing because they all complement each other marvellously. When the body does a powerful technique, the mind ensures it is done with purpose and precision. When the body gets bruised and the mind starts having second thoughts, the spirit gives the strength to carry on. I know that now. When the next tournament comes around, I'm going to put my mind, body, and spirit into it. And if I wind up facing the champion from last year, I'm going to win.