windy city drill competition

Skipping some boring stuff, we got to the comp.  Although the lack of organization was apparent, the gymnasium was a great place for spinning rifles.  The floor was made of shock absorbing tiles that made lots of sound if you stomped correctly, and would be kind to your rifle if any drops occurred.  As I started to say hi to everyone, I realized I knew no one.  Sure I had read a comment they made on Independent Drill, or a video of them throwing down, but that’s much different than getting to know them, isn’t it?!  I found peace in another bite of the protein bar, and staying around people I knew.  I eased up after greeting Steven, and running through my solo.  Until I messed up on my OTH (over the head) whip.  Three times in a row.  I knew it was silly to mess up.  Out of my entire routine, that was the move I had practiced the most.  I barely had to look at it.  But my nerves didn’t care.  I had to turn down Jonathan’s request to walk through our tandem on account of this.  I kept thinking of how foolish it was to worry about my routine.  Whatever happened, happened.  I just had to go, and give it my all.  Wowed by my self-motivation, my internals still disagreed.  I don’t like to admit it, but I didn’t feel better until I had a small meditation session in the bathroom stall.  At least it was clean.  And isolated.  You’d think these kids would be super hydrated for this, but lucky for me, they must’ve already taken care of their business. So I breathed. In, and out… in, and out… continuing this for a noticeable amount of time, I suddenly remembered all I had been through the past year.  Nothing as small as talking to new people was going to ruin my day. I got out of my stereotypical ohmmmm pose, and (after washing my hands) busted out the door. 
 
Later, the competition began after the scheduled time.  After a strong, but bland routine, Vincent Delao surprised me with his powerful move set.  Looking back on it, he definitely deserved top 3.  He may have achieved this, if one of the judges didn’t forget to put in any number into the “military flavor” category.  Which was a very prominent part of his routine indeed. 
 
Although I missed the next one, I saw Abigail Kremer go on next.  Her routine went smoothly with minimal mistakes.  That was, until her sling came loose on her.  She was stunned, and stood blankly until Steven kindly brought her a replacement rifle.
 
I stopped worrying about this when I realized I was going on soon.  From that realization, most of the solos became a blur.  I started mentally prepping.  20 minutes before I was to go on, I kept prepping with some water, push-ups, and parts of my solo.  This stopped when Cristian Reyes stepped on deck.  His routine was nice.  I’d be happy to get to that level of strength one day. 
 
I didn’t care at that time though.  My hype music was trailing off, Jonathan was reminding me to breathe, and then I heard my intro song “T'Killya” playing on the sound system.  It was time to slay.  All began well, and I reported in with a strong, confident voice. 
 
Right after that, things began to go awry.  Because I suddenly decided to go much more intense than I had at practice, I fumbled.  After making the first mistake less obvious, I did it again, and again.  It totaled up to 8 fumbles.  But that was only to the blind eye.  I could go on for a while, but the end result was wonderful.  I didn’t drop, I had strangers watch and by choice, and I gave a good performance after being so far gone.  I wish I had more time to take in the success, but life kept moving.  Jonathan was standing by, Attack on Titan music blaring over the speakers, and me telling him dumb things to (try to) pump him up.  He had improved.  Even with his injured wrist, he managed to nail a crisp Floridian, and give a better performance than his World’s routine.  Then Carlo Lucena was up.  He ended up getting third.  For some reason, the judges didn’t get the memo that the uniform didn’t matter, and took 2 points off for a backwards hat.  So really, he beat me by 4 points. As I’m writing this, it only makes me want to beat him that much more.
 
That same day, I got some kind of justice for that.  While his tandem with Edgar Cana was much more complex than my performance with Jonathan, we drilled our simple routine out much more synchronized.  So $20 later, I didn’t have to pay for gas money. 
 
With the awards given out, I was a tad upset, but not surprised.  4th place wasn’t terrible.  But losing third by two points is.  After trying to get rid of the salt I had just been dosed with, I decided to talk to new people to wash it away.  But it didn’t work.  It seemed most of the competitors had their own ideas of who should of placeed.  Which actually made me feel less selfish for being upset.  Jonathan just got second and I was too concerned about myself?  I know I could have responded much more maturely than that. 
 
All in all, Chicago was a worthwhile trip to make.  I made some friends, met several goals of mine, and saw places I had only seen images of in the past.  Hopefully next time, I can stay longer, and compete against even better drillers, getting to know what they really stand for, and make some interesting memories.  After this trip, I can soundly say that I spin a fake gun for competition without feeling like I’m wasting my time.   
 
-Isaac Mackin; River City Drill