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.