Love at 20 yards

Standing behind the safety line that marks 20 yards from the target is a privilege. One must trust all others that stand at the same line that you stand on. Standing on that line is my Dad, my sister Kara, and me. We stand together with our feet an inch over shoulder to shoulder length, with our left foot 3-4 inches left of our bodies and with our backs straight and strong. With our shoulders relaxed and ready to shift into gear and with our arms locked into position to lift and pull. Reaching back with our right arm to grasp an arrow to bring it forward and load our bows together. Deep breaths are taken, a spot on the target is picked and the bows gradually and steadily rise.

As I pull back 53 pounds of bow string, my Dad and Kara do the same with me. I wink at the bright dots through the peephole and in my magnified sight leaving my right eye open. Once again, taking a deep breath, placing my bright green pin on where I want my arrow to go and keeping my balance, I tighten the muscles in my back and pull the releasing trigger throwing the arrow over 200 feet per second (150 mph) until it reaches the end of the target. Although, only being 20 yards (60 feet) it takes nearly half a second for the arrow to reach the target. The arrow hits the target only missing my point by a half inch. At that moment when I set my bow down to reload I realize that it is the moment that I love most when I am with my family. Doing the thing I love most with the people I love most.

Archery has gotten me so far in life physically and emotionally. Although I no longer hunt with my bow as I did, I still enjoy the precious moments with my family and in archery competitions, competing against state championship bowhunters and winning 3rd place prize. Archery is what relieves my anger and sadness and turns it to happiness. Shooting my bow with my Dad and Kara fill me with love and warmth, even when it’s below freezing and we all have frostbitten fingertips, they still feel warm.