A new chapter, is all this really is. High School was fun and all but I'm ready to start over, I'm ready to branch out and be who I’m meant to be. The true runner I’ve always been. And it all starts here. I made it to my dream college and all that's left is to make something of myself, right? To finally be like the girls I've watched at races since I was little. All these thoughts rush through my head as I’m about to enter my dorm but all I can help to think of is how much everything will change. 

I say I'm ready, but what if I’m not, what if I'm not cut out to actually be here? Maybe I'm just some charity case they decided to string along the roster. I'm from a small town, where everyone knows each other, where the most exciting piece of news we get around here is who's leaving, and that would be me. I’m Ashley Knight, and I somehow made it into UCLA. 

“You think you can handle unpacking all this?” Jackson, my brother, asked.

“Yeah, I got it..” I replied, snapping back to reality.

I settled in and began hoping for the best, although the bright side of this all is the hundreds of college parties. In fact, there's one tonight that Gianna, one of the older girls on the team, invited me to, she said it would be a great way to meet some other freshmen, and some friends are what I really need right now. I feel like she really understands where I'm coming from since she's also living away from her family. I have no idea how she does it. I think I’m gonna have to ask her how she copes with it all later.  I've already said goodbye to everyone at home a million times, but I still feel empty without them. Hours pass and I finally learn my way around here. I might actually be able to get to my room without getting lost tonight. 

I got ready for the party tonight in my dorm, with the little makeup and hairspray I unpacked from earlier this morning I managed to pull myself together, stomach a fake smile, and get the party started…

“Hey who's driving, it won't be me you guys know how I like to party” Kaitlyn made sure everyone knew she was the “wild” one, even though I'm pretty sure all she did to earn that title was vomit a hundred times at each party she went to last year.

“It doesnt even matter it's a short drive anyways, I’ll do it I guess but you guys owe me” Gianna answered hesitantly, but I honestly didn't question it for a second, since no one else did. I’ve only known her for a few days but so far she seems pretty cool I guess.

A whole group of girls, some of whose names I don't even know, all got in the car and a few songs later we finally arrived. I've never seen this many people in a house before, let alone at all. How does someone know this many people to invite in the first place? Clearly, I've been missing out, and I'm pretty sure it's time to let loose, maybe college life is what I'm looking for. 

We walk in the door and the first thing I'm greeted with is a shot of tequila along with a view of every substance you could think of. As soon as we heard the music, we were sure that tonight's gonna be a night to remember. Everywhere I looked left and right I saw a new type of drink that would for sure leave me hungover tomorrow, but I didn't care, I wanted to feel alive for once, and just stop worrying. After hours of shameless dancing, drinking, holding Kaitlyn's hair back in the bathroom, and many pieces of gum, we were ready to leave. 

We got a head count, to make sure no girl was left behind, and soon enough we were across the street ready to head back to campus. The drive wasn't far, only about ten minutes away.

 It was wet. It had begun raining. The car slowly drifted, left to right, right to left, left to right, it was just a little shaky, nothing to be worried about. I was checking my phone.

 Light. We were all blinded by it. The road was slippery. Gianna turned out to be drunk. She held onto the wheel as if her life depended on it and pressed the brakes, but it wasn't enough. The two cars collided at an unimaginable speed, a momentum that left us rolled over in desperate need of help. 

 I blanked out and I woke up after two seconds, except I was in a hospital bed and apparently it had been three days.

My mom flew in from home and she had never looked more relieved before.

“She's up…SOMEONE PLEASE HELP SHE'S UP…SHE'S AWAKE” she screamed, and the whole ICU heard.

“Ashely, I am Doctor Korev, you were in a terrible accident with a group of girls which led you to become completely paralyzed on the left side of your body. It has been three days since the accident, and no one died, nod if you can understand me.” He explained.

All these words I can hear and I can understand, but it still all feels like a complete blur. Paralyzed? A runner cant be paralyzed. My season just started. I just started. I didn't even have a chance to run. It's the only reason I’m here. But now you're telling me I can't walk? I can't even stand up straight? 

I feel like I’m glued to the hospital bed. 

My mom started crying because she also knows what this means for me. She starts calling up everyone in the family telling them to pray for me and hope for the best.

I try to move my left hand, but it doesn't work. It just won't. A look of panic strikes my face.

“Ashley, honey, you're going to be okay” I can tell she's trying not to worry me but the look on her face doesn't match up with the words coming out of her mouth. 

I nod, and at the same time, tears start rolling down my face.

My only passion in the world has just gone, because I made stupid decisions. All of this realization hits me and I begin spiraling about my career and what my future is going to look like. I can tell all my mom really cares about is why I even got in the car in the first place, all for me just to feel like a disappointment, and a nobody all at once. So much for UCLA, so much for the recruitment, but at least I’m still alive, barely.

“I believe with proper care and physical therapy you will be walking in a few months, but you might want to put that track career in the books, for now. You must focus on fluids and hydration plus make sure you're eating enough every day. We're going to keep you here for observation for the next few days.” The doctor went on to say. 

I'm still not even able to comprehend half of the things being said to me, the lecturing from my mother, the jokes from my brother, and the thought of me living with only half my body able to work for the rest of my life. 

Several weeks pass and I begin another level of physical therapy. I'm able to stand up and eat on my own, but only for a few minutes and my bones constantly feel like they're about to collapse. I'm still dwelling on the fact that the girls come and go from practice and travel from race to race all around the country, but I'm stuck here. Running was the only thing that made me relatively happy, coming from such a small town where there isn't much to do. The least I can do is keep showing up to therapy and trying something new each week.

“Ashely, it looks like you're on track, try and go for a walk for at least twenty minutes a day and see how that feels' ' The nice lady, whom I still don't know her name, tries to tell me. A few stretches, some exercise, and I'm on my way home. This is what my life has been looking like for a while now: Go to classes, get driven to therapy, come home, eat, sleep, and repeat. It's like a never-ending cycle for me. 

I've been going on walks on a daily basis and doing everything my doctors are telling me to because I'm sick of becoming the person I never wished to be. Today felt a little better and I do feel like I'm getting my strength back little by little.

A few days pass and it is currently 9 P.M. I had an English paper due that I was planning on finishing up but I need to clear my head. I head out of my dorm for a bit and begin wandering, although this place has become no stranger to me because it feels like I've been stranded here. I go outside and start walking towards the field and as soon as you know it I’m on the track.  

  I'm all alone, so I just start walking around the track without a care in the world. I realize no one's watching and won't be here to stop me, so I pick up the pace, to a light jog. It lasts for about a minute, but then I feel the need to stop. And somehow I ended up collapsing on the floor. 

I sat there. And I think of everything I've been through. There's no point in trying anymore. I will never be the same runner I was before the accident. After weeks of trying to pull myself together, this has been my complete last straw. If I can't jog a lap, what makes me think I could ever actually run again? 

So I spend my days on the couch, eating junk, with assignments piled up and barely leaving my dorm. If anyone asks me to go out, I say no, because I know I'm gonna have to walk and catch up with everyone else. And I've missed my past four physical therapy sessions knowing I have an appointment with the doctor in a month. I'm slowly giving up, but I really don't care anymore. I bet running wasn't even what I was meant to do anyways. 

“Ashley, come here something came in the mail for you” My roommate Claire shouted.

“What? That's weird, I’m not expecting anything” I replied, confused.

“It's a letter,” I continued. And I begin to read

“Dear Ashley Knight, 

We understand these past two months have been a struggle for you, and we completely empathize, but we would like to bring to your attention that you are here on an athletic scholarship and if you are unable to represent UCLA at races we regret to inform you that your scholarship will be terminated. We may discuss a payment plan or need for financial aid in circumstances that you decide not to return to UCLA’s track and field program.

-UCLA offices of scholarship”

I re-read the letter, and I’m shocked. I had completely forgotten about the scholarship. It wasn't on my mind whatsoever. 

“What are you gonna do? You should at least be trying Ashely” Claire sounded exactly like my mom

“I have absolutely no idea, isn't it too late” I began thinking.

“It's never too late Ashley” 

I shrugged and headed off to my room. I get some work done, and it's already midnight but I can't sleep. The conversation between Claire and I had got me wondering about what I was gonna do. I grab my phone and start scrolling on Instagram, but a memory from three years ago comes up. It was a picture of me holding up all my medals from the season on my birthday. It finally struck me. I've dedicated my whole life to this sport and if I gave up now what would that say about me? What would I tell my future kids when they ask me why I stopped running? I should at least try, just one more shot. If I'm gonna do this I have to do it for me. 

Somehow the talk I had with myself at 12 in the morning last night got me up and ready for physical therapy for the next month, and in a couple of days, I would be at my doctor's appointment, ready to get cleared, or at least I would hope so. 

 I put in the work and start going for walks, and some runs when I feel up for it, driving myself places, and going out with my friends whenever I get the chance. The assignments get done and I pull my life together. I start eating right and taking care of my body all the time. Running was always my priority, but I now see that I've been taking it for advantage. I'm at my last doctor's appointment and after a few tests, I become more nervous. I can feel my heart pounding through my chest, scared of what the results will be. 

“Ashley, it looks like you’ve greatly improved. I'm sure you were trying very hard on your own time as well. It's safe to say that you are free from physical therapy, and are ready to run, don't be too hard on yourself”. Dr. Korev clarifies, with a smile on his face. 

“OMG really?! THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU” I answer, you could tell this is what I’ve been waiting for. 

I dont think I've ever gotten any better news than this. What I've done has actually been working and it finally paid off. I leave my appointment with excitement and joy ready to tell the coach the great news.

I met up with him after practice to let him know and soon enough I’ve been practicing with the girls every day for three hours straight for the past two weeks. The outdoor season was practically over, but there was one meet left. I'm aware that I've missed out on a lot, but I just want to feel the adrenaline rush at least once this year. I beg coach to put me in and convince him that I'll be able to get through it by working at practice after hours and he finally agrees. 

It's finally the day of the meet. June 4th. Possibly the best day of my life, to be determined. The girls and I ate a huge breakfast of eggs, bagels, waffles, pancakes, and any carb you could possibly think of, we ate it. We got ready in our uniforms, put our hair up in braids and we were ready to get on the bus. After a whole year of feeling like I was constantly left behind, it was my turn to finally show up for the team. 

We arrive at the meet, and almost every college you could think of is here. I know I’m running the open 200-meter dash but I begin to see all the other amazing athletes show up. I start second-guessing myself and wondering if I belong here or not. I know this is the worst possible thing I could be thinking of right now but I can't help it. I push these ideas to the back of my head and try to forget about it. 

The whole team and I get checked in and they show me where we usually sit in the stands. Some girls start warming up and stretching but I still need to take this all in. An hour passes and most of the longer-distance events are over, soon it'll be my turn. 

“Girls 200-meter dash first call” The announcer voices into the megaphone.

As soon as I heard the announcement my heart started racing and my anxiety slightly started to kick in. I tried remembering everything I've gone through this whole year, from not being able to walk, to somehow running at the last outdoor meet. This whole year has been a huge blur, but the one thing I'm sure of is the blood, sweat, and tears that's gone into this sport for me. 

I get my spikes on, tie my hair super tight, fix my uniform, and head down to the middle of the track. I look for my heat number and find out I'm in the slowest one, but I don't let it get to me, I’m running in lane 4.

“Last call for girls open 200-meter dash” Announced once again.

There are about 23 heats racing, which gave me some time to kill, but I spent most of it getting my head in the game.  I do some light drills and stretching so I could feel my best, but I've never felt more shaken up before. The 22nd heat raced and the fastest time there was 30.3 seconds. Before my injury, I remember the 200 being my best race, at a solid 22 seconds. I never fail to worry about if I'll ever get to that point again. 

“Lane one step out” The official hints.

“Lane 2 right over here” She continues.

“Lane 3 come here”

“Lane 4 and so on” She finalizes. 

I set up my blocks, and I get a feeling of deja vu. I haven't been in this position for so long. My heart is still racing but deep down I know that the only thing that matters is finishing, never stopping, and not slowing down. At all. I look up and wave to my team in the stands. I take in everything around me, the thousands of people here, the officials screaming to make sure everyone is where they need to be, the pole vaulting on the field, and suddenly I get a taste of home. This is exactly why I'm so in love with this sport, and the final realization hits me. I'm here to run, for me. 

“Runners on your mark” The official says.

I do my routine, shake out my legs, do a slight jump, and get into position on the line. My hands match up to the white, like I was always taught, and my legs are ready and set into the blocks so I could push off. I can already feel the adrenaline, and I haven't even started running.

“Get set” 

I’m only focused on myself and the finish line. I'm against the clock, not anyone around me.

“GO” And the gun goes off, releasing some white smoke along with it. 

I push off from my downstart and I hear the crowd cheering and screaming. I block everyone and everything out. My legs have never moved faster and my arms are pumping at the speed of lightning, or at least that's what it felt like. After the first 50 meters, I realize I'm behind but I keep pushing full force. I’m at the 150 mark and I feel the acid building up in my legs. I want to stop, I want to slow down, but I know I can't. I see that I’m the last one left on the track and everyone has their eyes on me, but I only see the finish. 

I finished. I looked up at the clock, my name was last and the time was 36 seconds. I walk off the track and I see all my teammates and even the coach waiting for me. I take my spikes off and they all huddle around me and give me the biggest hug you could think of. With the biggest smile on my face, I walked up to the coach, wondering which direction this conversation could go.

“Never in my life have I ever seen a runner run like that after being paralyzed. Not many hear this from me Ashely, but you have what it takes to really be a runner. Don't worry about the scholarship, it's all taken care of, I better see you at practice every single day.” He tells me while writing down a few notes. 

I know my time wasn't the best, and I know I came in last but I wasn't expecting to even finish my race. Even if it was the slowest I’ve ever ran, for me, it was all I needed to get over my mental block. Running is all about your mentality and your mind telling you what you can and can't do. Getting over this was the hardest thing I've ever had to do before, and being set back made it even harder. Coming to look at it, I'm Ashely Knight and I finished the 200-meter open race at the 2022 Outdoor Division 1 Championship. 

We finish the night with pizza and ice cream all on the long bus ride home. As soon as we head back to our dorm the girls think they have this great idea.

“We should totally go out and party tonight to celebrate” Kaitlyn suggests, with enthusiasm.

“Yeah, totally, I heard there's this crazy party happening at Jayson's house,” Sasha agrees.

“Nah, I’m gonna sit this one out, have fun guys” I reply, knowing what happened last time we all decided to go out.

Everyone gets ready to go out and they all look great, but I’m on the couch, sitting in my pajamas, watching the video of me racing and critiquing what I have to work on. I make myself a workout plan filled with drills and stretches to get me back better and stronger than ever.

 I truly believe that my whole journey was just a chapter of my whole story. All the past year has really done for me was make me work that much harder, and that's all I need to do to be number 1.