Two days ago, I spent the afternoon preparing for the tournament, having my bow repaired at Average Joe's Archery, and practicing and adjusting my sights at Rapids Archery in Coon Rapids, MN. If you have not discovered Rapids Archery yet, I highly recommend it! For a mere three bucks, you can practice shooting all day long, and the bales are well marked and maintained.
Yesterday morning, with bow case and a couple of lawn chairs loaded in the van, I excitedly drove to Bloomington's Marsh Lake Park archery range for the Senior Games tournament. It was a beautiful day for archery: overcast, four-mile-an-hour wind, not too hot. Although I left 75 minutes prior to the event, a highway closure added a 25-minute detour through South Minneapolis to my trip.
I had practiced once at the Marsh Lake Park archery range. Today it had been amazingly transformed. The half dozen saggy straw bales facing east had been moved off to one side and replaced by a neat row of 19 deluxe foam bales on wooden easels across the range's north side. Colorful, four-foot-wide plastic targets were tacked onto each bale.
Archery targets at the MN Senior Olympic Games |
I set down my equipment, took out my bow out of its second-hand hunting case, and walked over to the check-in table. As I walked past the row of men with expensive-looking equipment, I felt their eyes upon me. "Do I look like an amateur? Do I look too young? Does my bow look cheap?" I wondered. I own a decent bow -- an "Infinite Edge" by Diamond -- but it is green camouflage and looks like utilitarian hunting bow, not a fancy wooden or high-tech one. Then I spotted Roger and Kathy Wertanen, a friendly couple I had met at the previous Saturday's Track and Field event, and felt a bit more at ease.
2014 Minnesota Senior Games archery contestants |
The six female archers were grouped at one end of the shooting line, the men at the other end. I must have had a bewildered expression, and the other woman in my age group, Julene Hakl, reassured me, "We'll get you through!" She and and a few volunteers began filling me in on the myriad rules: don't touch the bale before the arrows have been scored, mark all of your arrows, make sure your arrows are the same color, etc. A dad sitting behind me volunteered his 11-year-old son, Noah, to act as my "spotter," looking through a spotting scope and telling me where my arrows were hitting. Noah seemed happy to take on this important job, and I was happy to not have to bend over and pick up my binoculars after each shot.
Firing Line: I am on the far right, in the black shirt |
A loudspeaker voice announced that we would get two practice rounds before the official event. Thank goodness! I shot all of my arrows into the grass during practice, and discovered that I was aiming with the wrong distance pin. A group of volunteers came out to help locate the arrows, but I found most of them by taking off my shoes and going barefoot. This was against official rules, but it was before the event and I found the arrows quickly. A "traffic light" set up on one side of the field shone green during the five minutes we were allowed to shoot each "end" (set) of six arrows, yellow with 30 seconds remaining, and red in between ends.
Then the whistle blew, signaling us to step up to the firing line. My stomach was full of butterflies, and I wondered if I was prepared enough. Was everyone scrutinizing me? We began shooting at the longest distance, 60 yards, the opposite of how I had been training. I blocked out of my head the realization that I had only shot at a 60-yard target for the first time the previous day. I focused on maintaining proper form: taking a deep breath, getting anchored, finding the target with the proper pin, firing, holding "still like a statue" until the arrow hit the target.
Female archers score their arrow hits |
After the first six arrows actually hit the target, I realized that I could fare decently if I maintained my focus and paced myself. I had done a yeoman's job setting my distance pins, so the key would be using the correct one at each distance, and not allowing my nerves to take over. Plantar fascitis had flared in my feet two weeks prior, putting me on crutches for a weekend. To preserve my stamina, I sat in my lawn chair every spare moment. The previous day's four-hour practice marathon also concerned me. Would my strength withstand two days in a row of shooting? While there was no getting around holding the bow and drawing back the string, I set the bow down and rested as much as possible between rounds.
I would be remiss if I did not mention how lovely it was to meet the other archers and shoot with them. Their dedication to the sport and shooting skills were admirable, and give me new levels to aspire to. During one scoring round, Norma and Edna (pictured above in the yellow and blue shirts), remarked, "We've been discussing you, and you must be a 'miracle child,' because there is no way you could be old enough to be in this tournament!" Rather abashed, I thanked them and explained that although I was still 49, my 50th birthday in December made me legal to join the Games.
The event was supposed to end at Noon, but one archer's equipment failure, requiring extra make-up time, stretched out the event until after 2:00 pm. Nobody had explained the complicated scoring process at the end, where every participant is expected to tally the score sheets until they match. Despite losing one arrow and hitting the wrong target with another, I earned 23 points above the minimum. I not only qualify for next year's national event, but because there were only two people in my age category, I earned a silver medal!
My daughter, Tacy, running late for a birthday party, frantically called me on my cel phone at 2:15 to inquire as to my whereabouts. Sigh! The kids were unaware of my accomplishment. Reassuring Tacy that I was going as fast as humanly possible, I finished scoring my and Norma's tally sheets, and turned in mine at the booth. I told the staff I was in a rush because my daughter was late for a birthday party. Most Senior Games participants are retired and must not have many obligations. They looked perplexed, and said they were about to hand out the medals. I think they had planned to do it more "ceremoniously," perhaps in front of the entire group. But after explaining my home situation, they nodded in understanding, handed me my silver medal in its plastic bag, shook my hand, and said "Congratulations!"
As I drove home, the adrenaline began to drain away and I felt as though I could have collapsed in a chair for the remainder of the day. But not until I drove Tacy to her birthday party and picked up a few groceries on the way back. Olympian by morning, mom by afternoon. This tournament begins my journey to the 2015 National Senior Games. Looking forward to honing my skills during this next year!
Silver Medalist Janet Lenius Saturday, Aug. 9th, 2014 |