Maya is a 16-year-old junior and a standout track athlete. She loves running the 400-meter sprint—it’s where she feels most alive. But her coach insists she focus on the 800-meter instead, where she’s also strong and could help the team win more meets. Her college advisor, meanwhile, has a different angle: “You should concentrate on academics if you want a shot at Ivy League schools. Sports are great, but you need to take AP Chem next semester, not double up on training blocks.” Maya feels pulled in three directions. She wants to sprint. Her coach wants her to train for distance. Her advisor wants her in the classroom. Everyone means well, but they each have their own definition of what’s “best” for her future. The sign-up form for next season’s events and courses is due tomorrow. Maya’s holding the pen—and the pressure.
Maya is a 16-year-old junior with a quiet intensity and a deep love for running. She’s been on the track team since freshman year and has worked her way up to being one of the best athletes at her school. Her specialty—the 400-meter sprint—makes her heart race in the best way. It’s where she feels fast, powerful, and most like herself.
But not everyone sees the 400 as her best future.
Her coach, Mr. Dawes, has been pushing her to focus more on the 800-meter run. “You’ve got the stamina,” he says. “You could dominate it, and we really need you there if we’re going to win conference this year.” Maya doesn’t dislike the 800—it’s just not her passion. But she respects Coach Dawes and knows how much the team relies on her.
Then there’s her college advisor, Ms. Greene. Maya recently had a one-on-one with her about senior year scheduling and future applications. “Your grades are strong, Maya, but if you’re aiming for top colleges, you need to double down on academics,” she said. “That means AP Chemistry instead of extra training periods. You can’t count on athletics alone—schools want to see academic rigor.”
Maya walked out of the meeting feeling conflicted. She doesn’t want to let her coach down. She doesn’t want to close any academic doors. But what about what she wants?
She thinks about the feeling of sprinting—the burst of speed, the rhythm of her breath, the rush at the finish line. She’s not sure she feels that same spark when running the 800, or sitting in a science lab. But she also knows the world won’t bend around her passion. People are telling her what’s “smart,” what’s “safe,” what’s “best.”
Now, the deadline to submit her spring schedule and event selections is tomorrow. She’s staring at the form. AP Chem or free block for extra training? 400 or 800? Follow her gut, her coach, or her advisor?
Whatever she chooses will shape her season—and possibly her future.
What should Maya do?