<p>Shattered
The first thing I saw when I woke up was a sideways pair of tattered brown shoes. No sooner had my eyes opened than the liquid leaking from my forehead spilled over them. I raised my arm to wipe the blood away, only to find an intense pain in my shoulder prevented such motion. I tried to sit up to no avail. I heard the first sound distorted like light through fog. What? I managed to respond. Dont move. The source was somewhere from above and to my left. What happened? I said. You crashed your bike. Hard. Where
where is
Youre at Sea Otter. You just fell. An image of the starting hut flashed in my mind, while the beeps that had prompted me to start sounded in my ears. It lasted only an instant, but it was enough for me to remember that I was in Monterey, competing in the Sea Otter Classic-a downhill mountain bike race. Help me up I said to the man. What? Are you okay? he answered, shocked at my request. "No, but I'm going to finish". Drowning in the fog of consciousness, I somehow managed to stand, and after finding my bike in a bush about 50 feet further down the trail, I began to walk. I must have been limping along for over ten minutes before I reached the finish. I collapsed, and as the medics attended to me, I was deprived of all hope for a victory.
My swollen ego was crushed, but my brain was still swelling. Recovery from a destroyed musculoskeletal system, internal bleeding, infection, and a grade three concussion was a long and painful process. My bikes tires didnt see the dirt again for over six months. I was told in the following weeks that had I not been wearing my now-cracked Leatt brace, I would have broken my neck, likely resulting in death. Death is a word that in itself emanates a certain darkness, a black hole waiting to swallow up anyone venturing near enough. And I had come so close.
I might not be alive today if it wasnt for that simple structure of carbon fiber. Sometimes I strain to remember that day; sometimes I wonder if it's even worth it to try. I have ultimately come to one conclusion though. Life is fleeting, and it is better to live in that harsh light, as bright as it is, than to cover my eyes with the shade of ignorance. That's why there is a date written in sharpie on my nightstand-4/16/11-the date where the sport that most people consider a hobby forced me to snap out of a wandering daze and confront my reality. This reality is governed by motivation to achieve my dreams and desires, not by procrastination and shortsightedness. Sometimes I wonder if my crash was the best thing that ever happened to me. I think it was, because sometimes you have to lose consciousness to gain it in a whole new way.</p>
<p>Very well written. Two things that may enhance the essay a bit further: some sense of humor and an strong conclusion. This essay, among thousands that will be sent to Stanford, is a bit too grim. And after reading pages upon pages of solemn stories, some of the readers will become numb. Adding a little touch of humor here and there will wake up your audience. </p>
<p>You ended with “a whole new way”. What is that new way? Are you going to party everyday now? Or are you living each and everyday to its fullest? Well, to some, partying everyday may meet that definition. Elaborate so the admission will know YOU better. </p>
<p>This is what I would rate as a 7 (out of 10) essay - nothing controversial for Stanford to eliminate you, but also not so outstanding that would win you that die-hard sponsor. Your writing definitely gave me a strong indication that you can take this essay to another level. Keep working on it! And when you get accepted to Stanford, write me (I live in the Silicon Valley) and we could do lunch. :-)</p>