The exhilarating nervous rush commenced at the exact moment I stepped foot onto the dark stained wood floor of an indoor basketball court where the Ohio State Powerlifting Meet took place for divisions five, six, and seven. I returned for another shot at placing in my designated weight class. Placing thirteenth overall, I came just short my freshman year, and I knew moving into my sophomore year at the meet that I had worked hard all year long to at least place within the top eight. In the hallway to the gym, all of the lifters received thick white information cards, which consisted of the person’s name, school, grade, age, and their first weight they will to attempt for each core lift. We all went into the weighing room, which was riddled with heavy axe spray, to have our weights recorded in order to be assigned a weight class.

 After doing all of the prep work for the meet, our lifting team arrived at our spot in the gymnasium, which was at the absolute top row of the bleachers. It was almost like a bird’s eye view from up there. Then, the team went down to the floor to stretch and get loose before we started tackling our lifts. “Two twenty-five pound boys to their platform please, two twenty-five pound boys,” boomed the announcer a few minutes after stretching. I was in the bleachers with my parents, so I rushed down towards the black rubber platform, which consisted of some of the strongest two hundred twenty-five pound high schoolers I’ve ever seen. They were massive human beings. Both of them were similar looking to Kai Green. Roll call ended as soon as I entered the circle constructed around our weight class’ referee. I thought nothing of it. I figured he had my name in there, and I settled down to watch the other guys squat before my turn arose.

My dad, Ricky, came down the stairs and asserted, “Go make sure he has your name card in the pile.”

 I stubbornly countered with, “It’s fine. He knows I am here.” I then wandered off back to my platform to continue observing my competition. Again, my dad trotted down the stairs because I refused to go ensure my name resided in the pile. This time it was different. I glanced over at him as he reached the bottom short rustic metal step, which was fixed to the bleachers. The step was not on properly. My dad rapidly flew backwards. His head smashed the front of another step from above, which could be heard from everyone in the gymnasium. I could not believe what I had witnessed. Thoughts flooded my brain. My eyes widened and jaw dropped in shock.

Thrusting one of the huge, strong guys out of the way, I bolted over to accompany my dad lying on the brisk gymnasium floor. I took his callused hand and saw a giant gash across the back of his head. Crimson red blood dripped all over the floor, and it coated the area around the wound. He became unresponsive. I tried talking but there was no point. “Are you all right?” I questioned quivering. “Dad, you good?” My voice went unheard. I felt panicked because I did not know if I would have the same dad again. Then, all of a sudden people formed around him to aid him to make sure he was doing all right. A suspenseful ten seconds passed, and he began talking again. The expression on my face became less worried, but a hint was still present. ‘He was going to be okay,’ I thought to myself. He eventually stood up with the help of the kind people at the meet, but he still had trouble walking by himself. “I really appreciate you all helping out with my dad,” I expressed.

My mom then took him to a nearby hospital, where he was given a numerous number of narrow staples to help heal the wound. I had to stay at the powerlifting meet not knowing his actual condition. There were various moments where I could not handle thinking about my dad without breaking into tears.

 For the rest of the meet, I did not perform as well as I could have. I placed sixth overall which was higher than I expected but still not the peak I could have been. I managed to see my dad after the meet, and he remained the same dad I knew from before. It is important to keep positive during a time where an important person is not doing the best. Just by me seeing what happened to my dad made me break down, which is understandable considering the situation, but during those times it can be tough. Keep moving forward and appreciate people even more every day possible.