Music and sport

ESSAY
Theme: Music and sport

Done by: Group-209
Mirzakulova Khadicha

Music and sport
Modestly speaking, I am blessed with many good qualities. I can solve Olympiad level math problems and can prepare the best spaghetti alla arrabiata in the world. I can do up to 20 push-ups, and I take care of my grandma when she is alone. I am able to tie my shoelaces in a unique way and I always get to sleep with a book, possibly "The alchemist" or one of Remarque's novels, lying on my chest. I am capable to hold a passionate discussion with my dad about the world's problems. I have once published a book with narrations and I am in love with foreign languages. I am not the tidiest person, but when I do decide to clean up the house, it gets all spotless and sparkly.
For one thing I feel sorry. I can not sing. I would love to be able to produce tender, heart-melting, passionate, powerful sounds from my larynx. I feel music is inside me, just probably too inside to ever be able to pop up. Though, I do not surrender. I have discovered that something becomes really impossible only when you cease trying to make it possible.
My memory doesn't let me down when it comes to evidence. Volleyball. Once I was just a figure to fill up a position, static. First I thought that simply I wasn't cut for volleyball: one can't possibly be good at anything, right?... Though, deep inside I felt passionate for that 270 g ball with white, blue, and yellow stripes that would take off from a wonderful set and beat the center of the field. I would love the smiles, the enthusiasm, the team gathering, the shout "Ace" that would come from their hearts and echo in my ears. I wanted to be a part of it, I really wanted...
"What in the world was I thinking?!" - That's what crossed my mind when I saw myself in the middle of the field, with balls thrown from every direction: a nightmare. The very first day of training I hurt my finger, and the next day it became like a round, violet sausage. My sane, critical thinking was telling me to quit. With all due respect, I decided not to listen to it.
Sweat. Twisted ankle. Aching muscles. Exhausted among pull ups and dips, core stability exercises and power push-ups ... Still strong head. There had to pass a few, not particularly easy months for me to notice some changes. Today, two years later, I still stand there, in the center, under a rain of angry balls. The difference? I know how to handle them. Some will come past me nevertheless: I still have much to learn, much to improve. Still, I am excited at the thought that, day by day, I am pushing the limits of what I once thought I could or couldn't do.
Some may think that music doesn't have much to do with this experience, since it is an innate talent and not something to achieve by hard work. Though, I believe that even this does have a solution, a way. If the vocal chords in my larynx aren't particularly well suited to emit a melodic tune, skilled fingers and a music loving heart will do. I am always thrilled when I hold in my hands a guitar and feel its breathtaking sounds overwhelm me. My melodies are far from perfect, but that doesn't even matter to me. I am happy to have found a way to express my amateurish, yes, but nonetheless deep passion for music.
Music and sport... So different, yet there is one thing that makes them synonyms to me. Love. With it in my heart, I will defy gravity, I will push the envelope, I will find a way.