2022 Annual Royalston Team Shoot

    Unlike the last handful of years, I wasn't looking forward to attending the team shoot this year. For those of you who didn't know, I came down with COVID after returning from the IBO World, and it took me for a loop. 

   I've always considered myself to be in good shape, and colds don't usually do too much to me. However, it has been a long time since I came down with anything --- until a few weeks ago. The day I returned from the world, a headache latched on and would't let go. It felt as if someone was pounding the back of my head and upper neck with a sledgehammer for a week. I had a nonstop fever during this time, too. My body gave in and became extremely weak. I never began progressing from the darkness until the Wednesday before the team shoot. At that time, I went outside to shoot a few arrows to see what the result might look like. It didn't take long to realize I probably should call it a year and not attend the shoot. I shot five arrows at a 5-spot from 40 yards. I hit two Xs, a four, and missed the paper twice. I also went to my dad's to shoot at a few targets to make sure I could hit long-range 3D targets. 

  It was grueling to get to the top of the hill to try my hand at 3D shooting, but I gave it my best and returned after a little bit with two fewer arrows in my quiver. After bobbing instead of weaving, I sent a few into the pucker brush. 

  After that episode, I decided I better text Jacob to let him know where I stood. He assured me he didn't care, so we made plans to attend the event. 

                                                                             Go Time

      After tossing a few arrows at 20 yards and a few at 40, I felt confident to head onto the course. All of my arrows hit in the dot, and the bow actually held fairly steady. I wasn't sure what to expect, but the guys told me they saw the numbers online and they said it didn't look too bad as far as yardages were concerned. That made me feel a little better, because we all know that it seems like our sight pictures are slightly more unsteady at longer distances. 

  When I got to my first target of the day, there was a pretty good backup, so we had to wait for people to shoot. When it was our turn, Jacob and I both realized that we have had a hard time killing the Delta bear at the end of the lane in previous shoots. Starting on a 60-yarder is never an easy feat, but my pin held fairly steady and I got a tweener just under the 11. We both felt good to start off even. 

  Moving to the second target, a standing bear facing backward, my pin danced wildly all over the bear. Since the target was facing backward, I had no idea where to aim at it and shot my arrow considerably right of the 10-ring. With the 14 looking the size of a beachball, Jacob decided to let it have it... and that he did. We had our first 14 of the day. 

  The next target, a mountain lion, was difficult to see, but we escaped with another 10. That's when I got into a groove and started finding the 10 ring on every shot, and Jacob started doing his thing. We made our way through that half and set a good pace. We did our thing and kept things where we felt comfortable. However, we did have three targets that I shot barely out the top of the 10-ring due to my rangefinder. Although mine read 2 to 3 yards longer on a few targets, I shot it for the number on my rangefinder and paid the price. All three arrows hit exactly where they should have hit for the error according to everyone else's rangefinder. All of the arrows hit less than an inch out the top at exactly 12 o'clock. 

                The Second Half

   We ended up getting off the first half with our highest score ever on the first half. Although I can't remember what it was at this point in time, I believe we were at +34 or +32, and we have always shot better on the bottom half. We felt good about our chances because neither one of us actually felt all that great about our shooting on the first half. 

  As we progressed through the second half, we were having a hard time seeing any of the pink dots on the targets. Then, we got to the chamois and figured we would have a good shot at the 14. Once again, my rangefinder didn't read the same as everyone else's in the group, but I went ahead and shot the target for what mine had on it. Once again, I shot a fingernail width out the top at 12 o'clock. 

  Jacob had finally had enough of the rangefinder and declared that I should no longer shoot things for the number it was telling me. On most of them, my yardages were within a yard of everyone else, but the 3 to 3 1/2-yard errors on the other ones made us pay the price. I agreed and that was it for that rangefinder if it gave me a higher number than everyone else. 

  Then, we got to the turn around and were struggling to gain any points. We simply couldn't see the dots, which made it all but impossible to hit them. Jacob was doing his part, but his arrows kept landing within an inch of the pink dots, directly under them. It was phenomenal shooting considering he was area aiming due to the inability to see the dots, but we both knew we were in trouble if we could't get something going. 

  When we got to the long, 68-yard antelope on the turn, we were both stoked when I put a good arrow in it. That was a tough shot, and we were both sure my arrow was where it needed to be, so Jacob tried shooting at the invisible 14-ring. When we got to the target, we realized that everyone in the group had been fooled by my arrow. It was barely out the left side of the 10-ring, but it hit exactly where the pin was sitting when it fired, and according every antelope I've shot, it was a no-brainer 10 by looking at it. I'm still stumped how it wasn't a 10. Jacob also missed the 14 ring, so we took a step backward on that target and knew we had a fight ahead of us to try to scavenge some points. 

  Getting near the end of the day, I was about out of gas. I had executed pretty good shots for the better part of the day. That's when we got involved in some chatting on the course while I was trying to shoot what I believe was a woodland boar at about 40 yards. I knew it was a relatively easy shot, but I suddenly got all sorts of anxiety while at full draw when my shot didn't fire. I let down, regrouped and started the process again. I ended up making my only really bad shot of the day and it hit low on the outside of the 8/5 line. I'm still not sure what exactly happened, but I felt like I had let my teammate down because it was a shot I felt like he could've capitalized on, and it was the only one of the day that I missed by a substantial margin. I was highly disappointed. 

  We took our points and moved on. When we got to the long rising boar, I made one of my best shots of the day, and the arrow hit just under the 11. Jacob followed it up with a great shot of his own, and we headed into the field for the last few shots. We didn't have any luck scoring 14s on those shots and our arrows seemed to drift to the left on all of them. The wind was blowing from right to left and my arrows weigh a mere 300 grains. That does't add up to very accurate shooting at any distance in the wind and in an open field.

  When all was said and done, we stared at a 342 on our card. We simply didn't complement each other on the second half. In all reality, I don't think either one of us shot poorly. We just didn't catch any breaks, and we never really gelled like past years. It was like being on a ship that's taking on water in the front, then you patch the hole and it starts taking on water in the back. Somehow we weathered the storm and limped to the finish line.  

  Over the years, I've been fortunate enough to win a lot of tournaments of all types. I've won some shoots when I shot terribly, and I've lost some shoots that I had better performances than I ever could've imagined. I've also learned that if you're a good shooter and you're not scoring well, there's a pretty good chance that nobody else is scoring well either. That's when you need to keep your head down and focus on getting to the finish line in one piece. The rest will take care of itself. 

  Many, many years ago, I came out of nowhere in three local leagues and shot scores that were unheard of at the time. As years passed, I was able to maintain the high level of accuracy and continued shooting the high scores. Eventually, everyone expected it from me... and I expected it from myself. Nobody will truly understand expectations until they find themselves in a position where you are expected to win. Winning is never easy. It never has been and never will be. Although some people find themselves in the winner's circle more often than not, it's simply not that easy. I've always told people and will always believe that it is much easier to get to the top than it is to say there for any length of time. Most will succumb to the pressure of creating expectations for themselves rather than just going and shooting their bows.

  Although it's an end-of-the year local thing, there is a little added pressure that comes along with it when everyone expects you to win. I think sometimes people forget that. Jacob and I are lucky to have a good friendship and relationship as teammates. I have shot with some phenomenal shooters in team events over the years in many different tournaments and never placed in a lot of them. Working with your teammate and picking each other up is more difficult than it seems from the outside if you don't have the right partner. Nothing changes at this shoot as compared to when we shoot national events. Sometimes Jacob will finish before me and have to wait until I'm done. I'll make a good shot and turn around, and he will give me the thumbs-up sign. I always root for my teammates, and it's a beautiful thing when someone has your back when you need some support. All good things eventually come to an end. I'm not getting any younger, and heading into my mid 50s, every year gets a little more difficult. I'll keep playing the part as long as my partner allows me to strap on the gear and take the punches our competitors throw at us. 

  I'd like to thank Shawn Couture and his wife, Wendy, for everything they do for all of us every year at this shoot. It always feels good to see the best shooters from our region at the shoot and talk with them. I don't get to see many of them anymore due to my schedule, so this shoot makes it really nice. We seem to have all the oldies there as well as the newbies, and it's a nice mix. 

  Many of you probably don't realize I'm a numbers guy, and I'll usually hedge my bets on statistics. If I go to a few shoots and don't shoot many 11s, I usually know I'm ready to have a breakout performance due to all the of the statistics of past years that I have. Since I found it much more difficult to see the 14s this year and the yardages seemed a lot longer, I figured it would be neat to see how people who where teammates fared as compared to last year. Did it affect all of us the same?

 Well, Jacob and I won the Booby Prize. Our score dropped the most of the 10 teams that were also teams at last year's event. We scored 35 points less than last year, but we weren't alone. Seven of the 10 identical teams from last year shot lower scores this year. Hey, Cole and Jake, I just wanted to let two know that you can join Jacob and I as the biggest losers. Looks like this course got you two too, but hey, at least we shot a 10 on the bedded doe. Do you guys remember that target? :-) You two were down 30 from last year. The Thygesens win the prize for shooting the same score as last year. You Vermonters just have something in you that allows you to spit tobacco, skin beavers, eat ravioli, chase Amish wagons, show no fear and shoot them in the middle... even if your girlfriend is giving you the stink eye... kudos to you guys.

 There's always a winner of the chicken dinner, though. Who might that be? Which team destroyed their score from last year and laid it down this year, improving by 25 points while only one team improved by five and one by 10? You can give free ice cream to Karla and Rick. They were the only team that substantially improved while all the rest of us faltered. Maybe we are missing out on the ice cream after the shoots. Hey Karla, can Rick buy us some ice cream? If it's the ice cream that does the trick, I'm all in. New Hampshire ice cream for everyone at the winter indoor shoot. 

 Oh, one last thing. Couture, this is how Jacob and I felt after we finished. Watch out if we show up with knives. We couldn't hit much with our bows, so we are trading them in for knives. We will be participating in knife-throwing contests now... watch out, buddy. 

2

I'll be giving my recap of the year in the coming weeks. I hope all of you are getting ready for hunting season and looking back on the fun summer of shooting that just passed. Thanks for reading along and supporting what I do. I truly appreciate it. 

 

 

The IBO World Championship

  The picture I chose to use for this entry sums up my weekend at the IBO World Championship, but I'll get into that as I progress through the event. When my competitive archery career started at the national level in the mid-'90s, I jumped in and saw almost immediate success. I had done everything I could do at a state and regional level and decided it was time to go play with people from all over the country. In my first national event,  I cleaned the first course I shot and went on to secure a fifth-place finish with about 1,000 shooters in my class... and I had a zero on my scorecard. On my second-to-last target, I got about halfway into my draw and the spring that held the latch shut on my handheld release decided to give way and break, sending the arrow zinging through the woods. Although I can't tell you if I would've scored well, I can tell you I had the right number and I was shooting well. If I had even hit the target, I would've won the event. People tried consoling me, and I understood where they were coming from, but they didn't understand what I had to deal with. That was the first of many incidents that I would encounter over the next 20 years that always seemed to creep up at the worst times. I took all of them on the chin and wondered if my bad luck would ever break. Even my friends and competitors couldn't believe the things I dealt with from year to year. 

   In my early years, I knew if someone shot a 380 (10,8,5 scoring), he would make the cut at the IBO World because I had never seen where someone didn't make it in with a 380. Well, I did the job the next year and ended with a 381. I was one of the early finishers on Day 2, so I had to wait to see where things would shake out, but I was confident I had made the dance. However, something wore at me after having shot an 8 on a buffalo and a lion... the two biggest targets I shot at over the weekend. When the scores were posted that night, I learned that there were no ties and I had missed the cut by one point. It was also the first time that I had witnessed the top five shooters going in without any ties. I was sitting at sixth place and had to pack my bags to head home. 

  Encountering things like this continued following me around for the next decade. It began sucking the life out of me and had me questioning my ability. It seemed like I just couldn't catch a break. Then there was the year where I pounded in two of the three legs of the triple crown and got to the IBO World to realize I had forgotten everything but my bow at home. Although my bow was in the case, I had forgotten to pack my arrows, releases and stabilizers. I had to scramble to find stuff to shoot the night before the tournament. After finding everything, I realized I was going to have to shoot a caliper for the first time ever at a national event. I knew I could do it, but it felt foreign and my bow wasn't set up for it. Well, I made quick work of it and did the best I could. Once again, I missed the cut by one point and there were no ties. The bad luck continued in ASAs, IBOs and NFAA events, with things happening that I had never imagined possible, and I couldn't reach the top step of the podium. Eventually, I broke through and went on a run, but the good luck quickly dissipated and I began looking at my old self again in a new era. 

  That brings us to last year when I was in the top 5 after the first day. I was cruising through the second day and came upon a boar that was set in some ferns. Allen Conner, Jeff Hopkins and Art Brown all had 11s, and I was the last shooter. I aimed in the glob of arrows and executed a great shot. I heard my arrow clank off theirs and figured I had gotten an 11 too. When we got closer and began scoring arrows, my arrow had ricocheted just enough to land barely out of the 11 for a 10. When we finished the round and scores came in, Bowjunkie announced I had made the cut. Well, an hour later, I learned that the deflection had actually kept me on the outside looking in, and I missed the cut by one point... there I was at 6th place again with no ties. That brings us to this year. Sit back and enjoy the ride as I bring your through my weekend.

  Day 1

  My practice round didn't go the best, but I did get off it at +1 after 10 targets, and we shot some bombs. With a few personal things bothering me, I wasn't in the best of moods, and I brought it with me to the tournament. I was finding it difficult to focus, and the things in my head were getting more attention than my shooting... life.

  So when I got to the tent the first day to head onto the course, it was nice to see Darrin Christenberry and Glenn Meadows. Having shot with both of them in the past, I knew I would have a good weekend because you can't ask for anyone nicer than those two guys. Although Darrin gets all the credit for switching to left-handed after being a right-hander for his whole life, Glenn also did the same thing. How cool is that? I commend both of these guys for their dedication to the sport. It's inspiring and makes me want to be better. Those guys have more of my respect than they could ever imagine. 

  Mike Sutter would also be in our group, but I had never shot with him in the past. As we got our cards and wandered down the road, I felt somewhat relieved to see we would be starting on an elk. Being a big target, I knew it would be easier to settle in and get the round going. I executed a great shot and hit a hair right of the 11. Moving to the second target, it was my lead. When I anchored, I felt good about the number and the target, which was an alert deer. As soon as I anchored the release fired, and I knew I wasn't quite ready. It hit a little to the left and low for an 8. 

  As we moved along, I picked up a few 11s. Then we got to a close leopard. After Darrin smoked the 11, I felt better because I could see his arrow. I would be able to lay my pin on his nock and let it eat. 

  When I came to full draw, I couldn't get the bow to settle, and I couldn't see his nock. I let down and decided to start over. On the second draw, the pin found his nock and sat on it. I pulled and the shot broke. A loud thwack followed and I heard Darrin's voice, "That's not good. You just ricocheted off my arrow into the 8." 

  When we walked down to the target, my arrow was stuck in the target almost sideways in the 8 ring. It had destroyed his bushing and nock and went zinging out the right side of his arrow. It was a quick three-point swing. I had executed a perfect shot and hit where the pin was sitting when the shot broke. Unfortunately, the bad break resulted in the loss of three points. I was a little irritated, and the irritation began to rise when I walked to the next target to see that I had to lead off a bomb of a lynx. Being short, I couldn't see the legs of the target. I knew it was between 45 and 50. I was going to have to use a sunspot on its back and try to make the best shot I could. I thought I had a good number, and the shot broke quickly when I hit the midsection... top of the 10. I sighed a breath of relief and knew I was back on track. 

  A few targets later, we came upon a long black bear. I knew it was the full Monty. Darrin shot first and hit it dead low. When I anchored, I couldn't get off his pin. Instead of letting down, against my better judgment, I kept pulling. When the shot broke, I was bouncing up and down a little bit and the arrow hit just under Darrin's for an 8. It was my fault. I should've started over but ignored the little man who was sitting on my shoulder talking to me. 

  After a string of 10s, we began getting backed up a little bit and the group behind us was catching us before we even shot an arrow. I stayed to myself and didn't socialize that much. Then we got to an impala target, and the stake was set a few yards off the road. The number stuck out to me.

  When I drew my bow, I had a bad glare on both sides of my lens and I could hear everyone talking behind me. Letting the talk distract me, I tried to muscle my way through it and figured it would be okay. However, I couldn't really tell where the pin was sitting on the target. When the shot fired, I didn't expect it to be bad. Stepping away from the stake, I saw that the arrow was directly below the 8 line. Although I had perfect line, the arrow was well below where it should've landed. It was my own fault again. I should've let down and started over. Maybe the personal distractions I brought with me to the tournament from home allowed the distractions from behind me get into my mind and settle there at an inopportune time. 

  Picking my way through the rest of the course, I was happy to know we only had a few targets left. We got to a long Dahl sheep and Darrin put an arrow at 6 o'clock on the 10-ring. I knew I had enough number, but I also knew I was hitting a little low at 45-50 on the practice butts but never moved it, and I had also hit a little low throughout the day on the longer targets. I figured I would smoke it when the shot broke, and I was surprised when I heard a clanking noise. Darrin said, "You're not going to like this but I think it did the same thing as the one earlier."

  After everyone got done shooting and we approached the target, I couldn't believe it when I saw that I had once again ricocheted off Darrin's bushing and ended up in the 8-ring. I marched to the next target, made a perfect shot, and Glenn just shook his head. I had shot yet another arrow less than an inch out of the 11-ring. I ended the day with four 11s and every 10 I shot but three were less than an inch from the 11. 

  I wasn't happy, and I knew my chance for making it to the final day were slim. I ended at 189 and had lost 5 points from ricochets. Darrin went home with two less arrows, and he had a chance to make the dance. Knowing how things work, I knew those five points would've put me in a great place going into the second day if I had gotten them. At the same time, I lost nine points from being complacent, which I pride myself for never giving in to complacency. Although I'd like to blame the five points for a less-than-stellar finish the first day, the nine points would've put me near the top five going into the final day. As it stood, I was near the bottom of the heap. I would have a lot of work cut out for me if I were to make a run the next day, but I checked into the past and realized I ran 13 11s one year and 15 11s another year in 20-target stretches and I knew I could make the ground up. 

Day 2

  I hemmed and hawed the rest of the day about the unfortunate incidents I encountered throughout my round, but I also knew I had the ability to come from the bottom and get it done. I had great practice rounds the last few weeks, and my shot had been feeling great. I would have to pass most of the pack, but I still felt confident. It wouldn't be easy, but I would never quit. While many others might pack it in and call it a year, I knew I could learn something the next day.

   It started off well when my arrow landed in 10-ring on the first target. As Darrin was spotting my shots, it seemed like every one of them was barely out of the 11. The trend had continued from the day before. I just couldn't catch a break. 

  When we came upon two of the closest targets of the day, the sun was bright. I got the first one, a bedded doe, but the sun hid behind the trees while we shot. As we made our way to a turkey, I knew it wouldn't be too bad. Heck, it was only about 30 yards, and I love shooting turkeys. I would be leading it. 

  When I drew my bow, I couldn't see the bird at all. The glare was more than I could handle on my lens, so I let down to try it again. On the second draw, I still couldn't see where I wanted to aim. I tried to find where I was on the target and look around the peep. In doing so, I thought I had it and came back into my peep. Although I wasn't sure where I was on the target, I continued pulling. Then, I felt rage inside when I saw the arrow hit directly below the 8-line in the wing. It was about eight inches low, and I had a 5 on a chip shot because I didn't let down and start over again. 

  I marched through the next few targets and made good shots. The rest of the day went smoothly, and my shot was great throughout the round. I got through the round without making a bad shot. Although I finished at  -2 for the day, I knew my complacency had kept me from finishing at +3. 

  When I began listening to my peers saying they believed -8 would make it in, I was a little irritated. The irritation grew when I actually found out that 392 made the cut. My card had a 387 on it... the five points I lost from ruining Darrin's arrows on ricochets had prevented me from making it to the final day. While I did my part in preventing myself from making it in, I actually did my part in shooting good enough shots to get in. Unfortunately, the rule states that you must take the score of the arrow where it lands unless it bounces or robinhoods the arrow and stays stuck in it. 

  I simply couldn't catch a break at this event. In some events you get all the breaks and in others you don't get any. It's all a part of the game. However, ricochets from two perfect shots this year and one perfect shot last year kept me out of the final shoot-down round two years in a row. It's discouraging. I won't lie, but I also own the fact that if I had done my part and paid more attention to detail during the round, I could've easily secured a spot in the finals. I believe respect is earned in this sport as well as in life. While I respect many people, there are others whom I do not. I had two incident happen the evening after the second round when I found out I had missed the cut. I saw Darrin and he came to me and gave me a hug and apologized for what had happened with the ricochets off his arrows. As a true competitor, he knows the disappointment associated with it, and he also knows I deserved to be there. I won't speak on the other issue that I encountered that evening. If you want to know why Darrin is so well-liked, this is why. He's a true sportsman. 

  

 

  While the big stuff is done for the year, I may shoot the Maine Senior Games next weekend with my father. I'm not sure if my elbow can handle that, but it's a possibility I will just go to keep him company. Then, Jacob and I will head to Shawn Couture's annual team shoot to have fun and relax before heading into the hunting season. It's always nice to gather with everyone from New England at that event and have a good time talking about everyone's adventures from the summer. 

 I didn't forget all of you fellow archers from our region. You guys will all have your own space in this blog in the next few days. I'll do a little write-up about that. You guys all impressed me, wether you won, lost or just showed up and had a good time. I owe all of you for my success. You give me an outlet to let you into my world, so we can all experience it together. I do this in hopes  of helping you guys succeed when you find yourselves in similar situations. The main lesson of this week is to avoid being complacent. It cost me making the shoot-off, and I own my failures. If you don't own your failures you will never succeed. Be accountable and take actions so the same things don't happen in the future. 
 

ASA Classic

    You might be wondering why I chose what is above as a header for this entry, but there's no need to have any worries... you will find out quickly. 

  Going into the ASA Classic I felt confident. I finally had a bow shooting well, and it was forgiving. That was something I've been missing until Nelsonville a few weeks ago. After finally giving in and changing to a bow that fits more into my wheelhouse for measurements, I instantly saw the difference and wondered why I wasted the majority of my year trying to make something work that wasn't in my best interest. After changing to the PSE 34' EVO/EVL, my confidence grew, and I knew I would be in the hunt. My thoughts were received well, and I was lucky enough to make the shoot-down round in Ohio and take home a fifth place finish. 

  Although I've been nursing an extremely painful elbow injury, I still felt confident, even without being able to practice the week prior to the event. So we headed to Alabama to give it our best shot. The ride down was grueling. We left at 6:00 a.m. and drove straight through, arriving at 2:30 a.m. Although we stopped a few times, it took us 20 hours. It was about three hours more than the bitch in the box told us it would take. This allowed us to sleep in before heading to the event site to practice. 

  Eventually, we rolled into the place around 10:00 a.m. Dad and Jacob shot for a bit on the practice bags before we headed to the practice range. I fired four arrows at the 35-yard bag. Three of them were touching in the black dot and the other was barely under it. My elbow was in too much pain to dare push it. 

  There were a lot of people on the range when we got to it, so we picked a spot to start on the 40-yard range and decided to go from there to the finish on the 50-yard range. We both had a solid practice round, with both of us staying in the 10-ring and shooting a few 12s along the way. When it was all said and done, I had shot two 8s in about 20 targets and a fair number of 12s. I felt confident because I wasn't holding or executing all that well, but the arrows were finding their way into the highest scoring rings. We called it a day after that and headed back to the motel to get out of the heat, as it was hovering around 100 degrees, and the humidity was through the roof. 

  Day 1

  The first day didn't get off to a good start. My blood monitor beeped throughout the night, and my blood stayed low, even after drinking some Gatorade a few times. When we got up, I decided to do something differently than what I normally do. I decided to make a waffle at the continental breakfast at the hotel. Not knowing how many carbohydrates were in it, I guessed and punched it into my insulin pump. Having a 9:00 a.m. start time, I figured things would regulate before the round began.

  It didn't take long for things to start going crazy. Instantly, I got triple arrows on my pump, signifying my blood glucose level was rising faster than can be comprehended. It was already over 260. For anyone who doesn't know, 80 is normal. 

  To keep it in check, I activated more insulin to go into my system and dialed it up. After doing so, we headed to the practice range to get a look at some targets before heading to our range. The woods were dark, and it was incredibly hard to see. I really couldn't tell where I was aiming while shooting. I sprayed arrows all over and half of the targets we shot resulted in fives for me. When my blood is too high or too low, it makes it all but impossible to hold the bow steady, so I have to do the best I can until it regulates. As we walked toward our range, I knew what I was up against, but it wasn't anything I haven't conquered in the past. However, I knew it was going to be extra tough on this day. 

  Upon reaching the beginning of the range to get our cards, Jacob and I decided to take a seat and wait to head onto the range. While sitting there, I looked at my pump and realized my monitor now showed three arrows down. My blood was at 62 with three arrows down, meaning it was well below 62. Knowing I was actually in danger, I sucked down half a bottle of Gatorade in hopes of getting it to come back up. It was now bouncing like a racquet ball in a heavily contested match. 

  After a few minutes, we started making our way down the road to our target assignments. When Jacob got to his, I gave him a fist bump and continued down the road. Within seconds, I began seeing purple floaters. Seconds later, my vision became spotty, and I could barely see to walk. Combined with a dizzy spell, it was about all I could do to get to my target. Finally, I arrived at the target and sat on my stool. I closed my eyes and hoped things would get better in a few minutes. 

  Gradually, I began feeling somewhat "normal" again. Then shooters started making their way to the stakes, and I walked to my target stake and looked at the lynx. I roughed my sight in to 41 yards and figured I would get a better look at go-time, but at least my sight would be in the zip code I would have to use to start off well. 

  When the "Shoot'm Up" could be heard across the ranges, I was ready to dip my toes into the ASA Classic and see where they would take me. However, I was still battling the low blood sugar, and I had already eaten a package of peanut butter crackers as well as having slugged down a bottle of Gatorade... but my blood glucose still read 56 on my CGM. 

 Being the third shooter on the first target, I watched the other shooters. One arrow landed near the top of the upper 12 and one landed near the bottom. They both looked out, but the markers were perfectly placed for me to shoot at the bonus ring, which is what I chose to do.

  When I hit full draw, the bow felt good. The pin quickly settled on the spot I wanted to hit and the shot fired with little effort. The split second it fired, my mind spoke to me, "12!" 

  Then all hell broke loose. As I heard my arrow rattling through the bushes behind the target, I couldn't fathom what had happened. Walking back to my stool, I glanced at my sight. My eyes were still a mess from the low blood sugar, and I couldn't see it well. However, I did see that it was set on what looked like 51 yards, but it could've even been 61. Yes, I had set my sight on the wrong yardage marker. In all the years of shooting unknown 3D, I had never done that in my life. However, I've done it a few times while shooting known. I felt like crawling into a hole.

  It's difficult to handle any miss while 3D shooting, but a miss that could've been prevented stings ever more than a misjudged yardage. Moving to the second target, I figured I better start shooting at 12s to see if I could erase the zero. My hold got a little loose on the second target, and the arrow hit just to the right of the 12 for an 8.

  Now, being down 12 points in two shots, I knew I needed to reevaluate my plans. I decided I could make up the ground if I played conservatively and shot at the ones I knew I could get, so that's what I did. When I got to my 10th target of the day, I glanced at the leaderboard that was near the stake. Amazingly, the fifth spot on the leaderboard was around even, and I had gained some points back and found myself at 6 down. 

  The glance at the leaderboard assured me that I could get to where I wanted to go even though I was still battling vision problems and an unsteady hold from my low blood sugar that just would not come up. It was still sitting steady at 60, definitely not conducive to shooting well. 

  When it was my turn to shoot the hyena, I knew it was a long shot, and I figured I would aim at the arrow that was in the target about an inch above the 12. The pin sat relatively steady until the shot broke. My heart sank when I saw the arrow hit. I had missed the 12 by a few inches, and the arrow struck dead low for a five.

  After shooting the five, I lost my ability to make a solid shot and started shooting to the right. I'm pretty sure it was due to my blood levels making me weak, making it impossible to shoot strong shots. 

  When the day finally came to a close, I was beside myself. I honestly felt like packing it in and quitting. I will never blame a health issue for my failures, even though I know some things I deal with make it difficult to shoot well at times. It's something that nobody can comprehend unless they are a true Type 1 insulin-dependent diabetic. It's also something I've dealt with since starting the journey into competitive archery, and I usually find a way to survive days like that one. However, I made poor decisions, executed weak shots, and didn't pay attention to what I was doing while setting my sight. I own it. I still could've performed much better if I had done things differently. Instead, the bus started careening when it got in the soft sand on the edge of the pavement. Then, all the tires blew out, and the bus rambled through the bushes before coming to an abrupt stop. I walked off the course near the bottom of the pack. Although most people would have been angry, I knew I did the best I could under the circumstances. In many ways, I felt like the bad luck that followed me around for about 25 years on the national archery tours found its way back to me. I was transported to a time when anything that could go wrong went wrong to prevent me from winning a national event, from exploding arrows to broken latches on releases to loops pulling through the release while drawing, among a host of other unfortunate incidents I dealt with while at the precipice of victory in multiple events.

  Day 2 

  Going into Day 2, I had no interest in shooting my bow in the 95-degree heat. Instead, I wanted to sit in the car with the air conditioner running. However, I made my way to the target butt and shot four arrows. They all hit behind the pin, so I called it good. I couldn't deal with anymore pain from my elbow. 

  When I got to my stake, I had a good group. Everyone was laid back, and I knew we would have a good day. I decided I would aim at 12s right from the start, and the method worked well. In the first 10 targets I hit three and missed one. All of my other arrows were so close it was hard to believe I didn't get at least half of them. My shooting was solid, and my hold was just as good. 

  As I progressed through the round, my confidence grew, but I took my foot off the gas pedal and started aiming center. I figured I would practice for next year. Being 4 up, I knew I could probably get a few more if I played this way, and I wanted to mentally condition myself for the future in case I decide to try my hand at ASA again next year. On the homestretch, I hit more than half of the targets in the IBO 11, just missing the 12 on the high side. 

  I managed to pick up one more 12 near the end and called it good. At the end of the day, I looked at the card and it had 206 on it. The score was not important at the time. Instead, I walked off the course knowing I had shot my best all-around round in as long as I could remember. My shots were effortless; my aim was solid; my concentration was dialed in. I had a winning performance on Day 2, and this performance made me realize I still have it in the tank. This year has been a struggle, especially while chasing the right setup and dealing with some personal issues.

  Later, I learned that I had shot the third highest round of the day, with Allen Conner and Jeff Hopkins being the only ones who turned in higher scores, and both of them ended up in the shoot-off. Confidence can be a fleeting thing in archery, but I never really face that. I'm always confident, even when things are not working out the way I'd like them. I know I have the ability if things go smoothly, and I know I can usually withstand all of the punches thrown at me. I just didn't have the ability to get off the ropes and out of the corner at the Classic on Day 1. I took the beating and was knocked out on my feet. Wobbly knees and poor vision might have caused other fighters to throw in the white towel, but I took the punches and came out swinging the next day. I've been at this long enough to know you are only beaten when you give up. I knew I could learn things for the future... and I did just that. I improved my strategy at every shoot I went to. I'm not sure if I'll be able to travel to any ASAs next year, but I would like to. I'm close to  carrying my IBO success into the ASA arena. I just need more time on those courses looking at those targets. 

   I'll be headed to the IBO World Championship next weekend. I'm hoping I get some relief in my elbow. I'd love to shoot a round while being pain free. If that happens, I will be happy, but if it doesn't, I'll strap on my gloves and start fighting the fight. I will not get beaten down this time, and I'll take every precaution to make sure I do not find myself battling the same blood issues I dealt with at this event. 

  While I'll be sad to see the 3D season come to a close after the IBO World, I will be happy to have some free time and do the things I love to do away from archery. It's been too hot to smell hunting season in the air, but I still know it's coming... and I can't wait til it gets here. 

  Good luck to everyone who is attending the IBO World Championship. Dream big, hold steady, refuse to shoot anything less than perfect shots, and stay focused and calm at the center. I'll be cheering all of you on.