The crisp air whips across my smooth tights and the sound of metal grinds against ice. My adrenaline builds as weeks spent repeating and choreographing my program. Lace layered on silk moves with the wind as I land the jump at the climax of Vivaldi. I stand alone in pride as the only girl in my division that can successfully land a triple axel. I suppress the urge to smile as I keep my composure graceful. The crowd erupts in applause with my finishing Biellmann.

Watching my old programs through the screen of my IPhone is bittersweet. My days of competing have come to an end as it sit alone in my hospital room. Less than a year ago I won my third national first place metal and today I am told that I may never skate again.

My primary test results show that I have a rare form of inflammatory rheumatoid arthritis. Today is my first dreaded day of ambulatory. I question the importance of learning to walk again if I have no purpose at the end of the finish line. Sitting in a hospital bed for months while doctors fought to lower my fever and inflammation had forced me to live in doubt of my future.

Now my purpose is redirection as I leave my life behind.