<p>Hi everyone,
I wrote another essay for practice. It's only my second college application essay ever, so I just want to see if I'm at all on the right track? I know that spelling probably isn't perfect, but I would really appreciate comments on the writing itself.
Thanks so much!</p>
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<p>Its 5:20 in the morning, and instead of laying blissfully in my warm bed like any other sane eleven-year-old, I am staring at the calluses on my raw fingers as I lace up my figure skates. This is not an usual situation; I had been doing nearly every morning this for the past five years. </p>
<p>I let out a yawn and button up my hand-me-down fleece. In ten minutes, the ice machine will have rid the ice of all bumps and cracks, leaving me a fresh sheet of paper to mark up with the edges of my freshly sharpened blades. On this paper, I wont be drawing animals or trucks like my classmates. Instead I will be analyzing every cut and crease in my rockers, choctaws, counters, and brackets. I will be gazing at miniscule holes in the ice after each landed jump, crossing my tiny fingers in the hopes that this time, Ive rotated that extra quarter of a turn that always seems to elude me. </p>
<p>As I step onto my frozen mirror, my coach skates up to me, black coffee in hand, just as she does every morning. She shouts directions from the edge of the rink as I attempt to warm up my frigid bones. Her critiques are brutally honest; she isnt up at 5:30 in the morning to play games. There are just three precious hours of practice time before school, and I intend to make every moment count. </p>
<p>At 7:30, the ice machine emerges, signaling a hot chocolate break. I put on my skate guards and wander up to my mom, who is talking with my coach. I can tell from several feet away that something is wrong. They are speaking quickly, and my moms face is scrunched up the way it always is whenever she hears big news. </p>
<p>Martine, I want to talk to you about something, my coach says as she sits down on the steel bleachers. Do you love skating? I nod, more confused than ever. I cant take you where you want to go with this sport. Youre a gifted ice dancer, I think you could go far, but there are no male skaters for you to partner and compete with in this area. Ive been in contact with coaches just across the Canadian border. They are world champions, and they are willing to take you on as a student.</p>
<p>My eyes widen and my feet go numb in my stiff leather skates. This is what I had dreamed of, ever since I took my first glide at six-years-old. Although supportive of anything I did, it was never far from my mind that my mom, a former figure skater, had always wanted to see her little girl twirling around the ice at international competitions. To get to that point, sacrifices had to be made. Snapping back into the crisp presence of the rink, my mom gave me the universal look for well talk about it with your father. I wobbled back over to the ice and skated around the edge of the rink, alone with my thoughts. I still had 45 more minutes of practice before I focused my attention to the government of America, but I knew that the time wouldnt be productive. </p>
<p>This was all too much to grasp for a girl who hadnt even hit puberty yet. Of course I was tempted to attempt my biggest axel jump all the way to Vancouver, but there were so many factors to consider. My dad, already working two jobs just to see his only daughter doing the sport she loves, would struggle to afford two houses and the mounting costs that I was sure would come with having world-class coaches. I would have to leave my home, my friends, my family. I knew that I would have the full support of everyone around me, but could I ask so much of them? Is taking such a risk really worth the reward, which, by the way, is never guaranteed? </p>
<p>That morning I had to make my biggest decision so far. I didnt move away from my home, my friends, my family, to be guaranteed a gold medal at every competition I entered. Five years later, I still train with world champion figure skaters because of the challenge, the adventure, and the passion all of us harbor for the sport. Determination, perserverance, and mental stamina all woke me up at 5:00 in the morning when I wasnt even tall enough to reach the cookies from their top-secret hiding spot. My Disney characters alarm clock helped, but it is the qualities I learned through figure skating that keep me going in life when I feel my blades stuck in a hockey players rut.</p>