Trey Cunningham: In Your Brightest Moment, Take A Breath

* Trey Cunningham after winning an NCAA indoor championship in the 60mH

Photo Credit: Kirby Lee/USA Today Sports Images

On Mach 13 in Birmingham, Alabama, Florida State University senior Trey Cunningham -- an NCAA athlete who writes 'TREY Talks' columns for MileSplit -- won an NCAA Division I title in the 60mH. It was a milestone moment for the former small-town athlete and burgeoning hurdle superstar from Winfield City. Here, he writes about the moment and the perspective he gained from achieving one of his career goals. 

"Realize the feat performed, watch as other athletes push the boundary of what is possible and, most importantly, take a breath."

It took 23 steps for me to win a national title.

Those 7.38 seconds sealed my indoor collegiate season as the second best in college history and tied me for 11th in world history.

That passion and perseverance has seemed to pay off with arguably the best 60 meter hurdle season by any collegiate. But behind this short-lived race is years of grit out on the track. And I think that grit is coming to fruition. I think this is only the beginning for my remaining college career.

Reporters and others have asked what it feels like to finally capture something I've been chasing for so long.

It is a lot of mixed feelings. The win is always the goal, no matter what, and time is a bonus if it is a personal best. I was elated, ecstatic, excited, emotional, any word to describe the win. I have wanted it for so long.

But the original question about how it felt comes with some interesting connotation.

The national title for me was expected, not only this year, but the years prior. Coming in as a World U20 record holder gave me huge expectations. Some didn't even think I would go to college, but I needed it to really grow into a better athlete.

So the feeling has been bitter sweet.

On one hand, I'm grateful and happy about the way I performed. The other is critical. I feel like I have higher goals to achieve.

Outdoor season has even higher goals than a national championship. As I prepare for my last five college competitions and beyond, I'm reminding myself to live in the win for a bit longer because wins in this sport are fleeting moments.

The next person is on their way to run faster, throw farther and jumper higher.

In these fleeting moments, time doesn't seem to exist. Everything is happening slow and fast at the same time. Cameras are in your face, other events are going on and there's a sense of euphoria from a big accomplishment.

The time immediately after my race seemed to last forever with interviews, awards and seeing people who came to support. Soon after, time sped up waiting for drug testing and the rest of the meet to be completed.

This feeling of slow and fast time might come from the intense high and low of adrenaline. I've found in these weird states that it's best to pull yourself back from the action and soak it in.

Realize the feat performed, watch as other athletes push the boundary of what is possible and, most importantly, take a breath.

I've found myself being humbled the most in these situations because the amount of effort, luck and grit also brings this: A sense of gratitude.