Overview:
As his time as a student athlete comes to an end, our PJ Guidry discusses what he's learned from years playing sports.
I recently ran my very last track meet as a triple jumper and long jumper at Metro State University in Denver. Looking back on my career as a student athlete, there is nothing I regret and there is nothing I would change.
The lessons I learned and the friends I made far outweigh the knee pain and the ice baths. I feel like I have an exclusive alumni membership now. Not many have been blessed with the same gifts and passions as a track and field athlete.
My first day of MSU track practice was in late August of 2020. It was the first time the tendons in my heel had been as sore as my muscles. I had to sit with my legs slightly bent and my feet off the floor when I got home. I started to think of the end goal and told myself I was capable of getting a degree and making sure I left with better marks than I came with.
My expectations were low because I was still new at the sport and had to learn my event at a more technical level for most of my freshman year. Being a college jumper required more than just “hops.” It required a new level of strength and understanding body positioning in relation to force input.
Minus a redshirt season, I have competed for four years and qualified for the indoor and the outdoor RMAC Conference Championships four times each at MSU. I hold all university records in the triple jump for my school. I hope to leave those records to be broken by my younger teammates, who I believe to be more talented jumpers than I ever was.
From Iverson Dreams to Track and Field
When I was five years old, my end goal was to be like Allen Iverson. I wanted to be in the NBA, and I wanted to be a great basketball player. Now I look back as a 23-year-old who has just retired from his 20-year athletic career and wonder where my goals took me.
My mother signed me up for sports as soon as I got too fast to chase. She was like I am now, always trying to be three steps ahead of her opponent. Her opponent was a devious, stubborn little kid with perpetual energy reserves.
My mother told me once as a high schooler, “You have always been this stubborn kid. I even resorted to buying this book titled ‘How to raise a stubborn child.’”
I remember responding by asking, “Did it work?” I don’t remember how she answered.
My mother signed me up for baseball, soccer, football and basketball but sadly, could never convince me to do tennis. It left little time for me to be in her house, breaking things. I excelled at baseball and basketball, the sports my parents played.
My father was an extremely skilled baseball player and hoped to play for a college team as a high schooler. He was also a good basketball player and football player, but football ended his chances at continuing any sport after breaking his collarbone. Twice.
Growing up in the greater Chicago area, my mother was an excellent basketball player as well. She hoped for a college career, but ended her career after playing in a military circuit in Europe instead.
Both my parents wanted to see me succeed at the highest level and they had to talk sense into me when I realized, as a 17-year-old, that basketball was never going to be my route to getting a degree. As an athlete, you grow accustomed to believing in goals that are always narrowly out of reach. I came to terms with the wins and losses that I missed or narrowly missed, but track and field became an accidental success I never strived for.
I recognized my jumping ability after going to a recruitment camp for prospective college basketball players. They tested my athleticism, shooting, playmaking, ball handling and how I handled live play situations.
The coaches took notes on a scouting sheet so players could see what they needed to work on. The coaches thought that I was a slightly above average basketball player, but an excellent athlete, with both the highest standing and running jumps of the camp. I was also in the top five for every other combine test.
My dad suggested that track would be a fun distraction, and I knew that junior year of high school was my near-last chance to see any type of interest from college coaches. My junior season of track and field led to a top-six ranking in the state for the triple jump, which ended as a tenth-place finish in the state championships.
My junior year of basketball was a turbulent one that seemed to give me no sense of a college career in the future. At the same time, I received letters in the mail from a handful of Division 2 and NAIA track coaches and none from basketball coaches. After my season, I visited two different schools I found to be interesting, and one of them was MSU to meet my future coach, Janis Christopher.
My choices as a high schooler were to become a scholarship athlete at a Division 2 track team of my choice, walk on to a basketball program in the area or pursue my new hobby of cutting hair. My dad just barely talked me out of going to barber school, and I opted for the college athlete experience.
Finding My Lane
One of my best experiences was a meet in Azusa, California, against some of the greatest jumpers I ever faced. The highlight was seeing the long jump world record holder, Mike Powell, coaching two of the jumpers who were entered into the meet. Our hurdles coach, Doug Ries, knew him and told me mythical stories that seemed to hype his legend.
His more talented jumper, before triple jumping, also won the long jump by jumping 25 feet and nine inches. I felt out of my bandwidth, and it was hard not to be a fan with so many record holders and standouts jumping into the same sand as me.
I decided before my first jump, though, that my only goal was to beat Mike Powell’s jumpers. I just barely beat both and needed to jump over 48 feet just to make the finals.
I remember looking at Mike Powell before every jump and trying to imagine him with braids and tattoos like Allen Iverson. I never looked up to track and field athletes the same way as basketball players, and it was the first time I felt that sense of high honor to compete on the same field.
One of the greatest lessons I took from college sports is that it is a blessing to have a bigger stage. Hours of stretching, lifting, running, jumping, taping, rolling and icing—all to gain centimeters—it all costs something.
My parents tried for the same marks in their own careers and unfairly missed their chance to play on the same stage. In all gratitude, I am happy that I was able to succeed and excel as a college athlete. The work I put in allowed me to get my degree and to experience a unique and unforgettable five years.
I know for a fact that I will never compete in track and field again. Sadly, I chose two of the more straining events in all of track and field, and my knees have expressed their opinions loud and clear. At most, coaching may be in the cards down the line.
Yet, I will always have the fandom and appreciation that comes with being a jumper—tracking the world-leading marks, betting on the next record holders and watching the Diamond League meets.
I hope to find new ways to compete or strive towards a goal. The athletics world has given me a fresh perspective to be able to pursue writing with hopes of a career. Holding a degree is empowering, even more so than a medal. The next phase is exciting and I hope to dive right into an open future.
Congratulations Perry! This is beautiful reflective writing. Thank you for sharing your journey. I enjoyed your perspective of past, present, and future. I look forward to hearing about your next chapter. Your family gave you a beautiful foundation in both strong faith and the love through a family. I’m so proud of you.
Diane Hanyok