By Rachele Miller
The sun begins to set over the 7th fairway at Windy Hill Country Club, creating a stunning mix of pale pinks, dandelion yellows, and tangerine orange. The subtle fresh smell of spring flowers fills the air as the sounds of cicadas resonates from the trees. This beautiful backdrop reminds me of all the long nights of practice I have put in since beginning to play competitive golf almost 10 years ago. Playing golf became almost therapeutic, a time to gather my thoughts and feel like I am a part of something larger than myself. In this moment, I recognize the importance of silence and self-awareness.
As a student-athlete at DePauw, I do not often get a free moment to just sit and enjoy taking in the world around me. I have learned to appreciate these late night practice sessions as a break from my all-consuming student life on this campus. I look forward to traveling to our tournaments, playing golf and exploring a new city for the weekend, but come Monday morning, I will rush off to class just like my classmates. You may have spotted me with a large cup of freshly brewed dark roast and dark circles under my eyes after a short night of sleep. I participate in class discussions with my messy notes from trying to write during the late night bus ride home. I even study for my midterms at 25,000 feet and run through my presentation with my teammates states away from campus.
Being a college golfer is never easy. Trying to focus on just the shot in front of you, living in the present moment for 5 hours every Saturday and Sunday frequently proves to be a challenge. My mind starts to wonder to the Management Fellow lecture I have to attend and the Macroeconomics exam that I have to take this upcoming week.
I try to stay positive during my round although things start to slide in the wrong direction. A bogey here, a bogey there. As I grasp for something positive to focus on, I find myself facing a 10-foot sidewinder for birdie. In this moment, I stand behind the ball closing my eyes and take a single deep breath to remove any sort of tension from my hands. I gaze down, watching my hands slowly grip the putter one finger at a time. I feel my shoulders slowly rock and the ball comes off the putter face with a small pinging sound. I look up to see ball rolling towards the center of the cup at nearly perfect speed. When it falls to the bottom of the cup, a small smile appears on my face.
It is in moments of triumph like these that I play golf: the drives, piped right down the middle, punch shots carefully maneuvering in between the pines, and the sinking of unbelievable putts. These are the times that make the chaotic moments of running from my classes to practice worthwhile. It may not be easy to be a student-athlete, but everyday I am thankful for the teammates who became family, and memories that will last a lifetime.