Volunteers of America Classic - A Week About People
As I write this, I’m sitting on an airplane from Dallas to Louisville leaving my first LPGA event as a professional and headed to the next stop on the Epson Tour. While the airplane jets along around 500 mph, this is usually the moment my brain finally slows down. The final scorecard is signed. I’m all packed and checked out of the hotel. The rental car is returned. Luckily my bags weighed under 50 pounds and were checked in on time. I made it through security after they went through all of my bags only to find my biggest threat is a few dozen golf balls. My boarding pass was scanned to get on the plane, and the gate agent didn’t make me consolidate my purse into my backpack, so I would technically have one carry-on and a personal item. I stuff my bag in the overhead bin and look straight to the sea of eyeballs staring at me, wondering which person will have to get up so I can find my seat. It’s safe to say that I move through that sequence in a blur. And it isn’t until I sit down and take a deep breath that I can gain clarity.
It’s a moment I look forward to every week. It’s the moment I can gather myself and reflect on the week prior and prepare for the week ahead. It’s when all the constant chaos of life on Tour can come to a halt, and I can find a moment of peace. That’s probably the reason most of my blogs are written as my iPad sits on the tray table next to the complimentary sparkling water and a stranger in the seat next to me. It’s the comfort of a keyboard in an uncomfortable seat; that comfort I look forward to at the end of every week.
Last week, I made my first start on the LPGA tour as a professional at the Volunteers of America Classic held at Old American Club in The Colony, Texas. It was an extremely special week full of exceptional highs and well-felt lows. I wouldn’t trade both for anything. It was my dream come true. I was teeing it up on the LPGA as a professional. The dream that’s written in so many of my childhood journals, notes in my phone and scribbled all over the imagination in my brain. It was a moment I had visualized in my head nearly every night before bed. And now, looking back, I wonder what is clearer in my mind: the dream or the memory?
To read more from Brynn Walker visit her website brynncwalker.com
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