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Katniss

Gathering editors try their hand at archery.

Story by Jahnvi Sampat & Sydney Gaw

Design by Bridget Hoban

Photos by Riddhimaa Kodali

Jahnvi:

Blomquist Recreational Center feels different without the hustle and bustle of gym rats and newcomers alike at 7:15 p.m. on Saturday night. Beyond the deserted machines lies the make-shift archery range. Various foam-board targets are propped up with chairs and ten-pound dumbbells to brace for impact. Rows of bows are lined up next to quivers full of brightly colored arrows and bracers to protect your forearms.

For a sport that seems technically challenging, it was surprisingly easy to pick up. Northwestern Archery Club Co-President Brandon Do was also a novice when he first showed up. But with many weekends of practice, he has slowly become an expert, all while leading first-timers through the process with ease and complete attention. According to him, archery is not about shooting the arrow into the bullseye, but rather, the consistency that keeps you grounded. What makes a great archer is how closely the arrows cluster together — the sustained practice and the determination to become adept. Somewhere between the whistles and the walk back to retrieve the arrows, archery stopped being about the perfect shot for me. In the near-empty gym on that quiet Saturday, I understood what Brandon meant. Returning to the line, again and again, adjusting my stance and my breath, I found the fruits of consistency and the calm that comes with it.

Sydney:

Archery was one of the myriad recreational summer activities I picked up as a child. I remember standing ankle-deep in a mosquito-ridden field, waiting for my turn to shoot. It was always incredibly humid this time of year, and the atmosphere would be thick with the scent of citronella and palm. In contrast, the lighting in Blom casts harsh shadows across our faces. The scent of the gym’s rubber flooring permeates the space, and all you can see through the sparse windows is the darkness of nightfall.

Brandon leads us through the motions. My first few shots are shaky. As I retract the string, I am worried I will somehow manage to hit someone or that my arrow will ricochet off the court back towards me. I am even a little self-conscious about how awkward I must look with my elbows awkwardly angled like so. But with each shot, my fears melt away. It doesn’t take long for muscle memory to kick in. The next time the arrow releases, I feel a familiar thrill.

Archery reminds me of a simpler time in my life, when bruised knees and bug bites were my biggest concern. It also reminds me what it feels like to partake in an activity simply because I enjoy it. Archery may be about precision, but it’s not about perfection, at least to me. Even if I miss the target, it’s really about adjusting, learning, readjusting and finding joy in the possibility of improving a little bit more with each shot.