In the Driver's Seat: Why Safe Driving Is a Skill I Train For

In the decathlon, I compete in ten events, and every one of them punishes a lapse in focus. A sprinter who looks away from the finish line loses time. A pole vaulter who misjudges a plant step can get hurt. A javelin thrower who lets his attention drift can foul or, worse, endanger someone standing nearby. I have spent years learning that performance under pressure depends on preparation, attention, and respect for the consequences of a mistake. Driving demands exactly the same discipline, except that the stakes are far higher. On the track, a mistake costs me points. On the road, a mistake can cost someone their life.

The numbers make that clear. Roughly 34,000 to 40,000 Americans die on the road every year, more than the combined number of American service members lost in the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan. For people my age, car crashes are among the leading causes of death. Most of those crashes are not caused by mechanical failures or freak events. They are caused by human choices: speeding, driving distracted, driving impaired, and failing to wear a seat belt. That is both frightening and hopeful. It means that most of these deaths are preventable.

Distraction is the danger I think about most, because it is the one most of my friends underestimate. Looking down at a phone for five seconds at highway speed means traveling the length of a football field without seeing the road. Even hands-free calls and voice texting pull a driver's mental attention away from the task. As someone interested in neuroscience, I find this especially important: the brain cannot truly multitask. When we split attention between a conversation and the road, our reaction time slows, and we miss hazards we would otherwise see. My rule is simple. My phone goes on "Do Not Disturb" before I put the car in gear, and if something truly cannot wait, I pull over.

Speed is the second danger. Driving faster does not just shorten the time I have to react; it dramatically increases the energy of a crash. Kinetic energy rises with the square of velocity, so a car traveling 60 miles per hour carries roughly 44 percent more energy than one traveling 50. That extra energy has to go somewhere in a collision, usually into the car's frame and the people inside it. Physics class turned that from an abstract warning into something I can picture, and it is a big reason I do not treat speed limits as suggestions.

The third danger is impairment, whether from alcohol, drugs, or exhaustion. As an athlete with a demanding schedule, I know how easy it is to underestimate fatigue. Drowsy driving can slow reaction times as much as driving with a blood alcohol level at the legal limit. Being a safe driver means being honest with myself about when I am too tired to drive, and never getting into a car with someone who is impaired.

Like most teenagers, I have seen irresponsible driving up close.F Moments like that stick with me because they show how quickly an ordinary drive can turn into a tragedy, and how often the cause is a choice someone made in the seconds before.

Driver education is one of the most effective tools we have for reducing these deaths, because it reaches drivers before bad habits form. Good programs do more than teach rules; they teach new drivers to recognize risk, manage distractions, and understand the physics of a crash. Graduated licensing, longer supervised practice, stronger enforcement of distracted-driving laws, and safer road design all build on that foundation.

Being a safe and educated driver also means continuing to learn after getting a license. Driver education gave me the rules of the road, but experience has taught me the habits that matter most: leaving extra following distance, scanning intersections even when I have a green light, anticipating what other drivers might do, and adjusting for Idaho weather, from icy winter mornings to dusty summer roads. A safe driver does not just react to danger; he anticipates it and leaves himself room to respond.

Finally, I believe safe driving is a form of responsibility to other people. Every time I drive, I am sharing the road with families, cyclists, pedestrians, and other teenagers who are still learning. I have younger brothers, and someday they will watch how I drive and copy my habits. I want them to see someone who puts the phone away, buckles up, follows the speed limit, and treats driving as the serious responsibility it is.

I plan to study biomechanical engineering and neuroscience and eventually become a physician, possibly in sports medicine or rehabilitation. In that career, I will likely treat patients whose lives were changed by car crashes: spinal cord injuries, traumatic brain injuries, and amputations. I would much rather prevent those injuries than treat them. Being in the driver's seat means accepting that my choices behind the wheel affect far more than me. Like every event I train for, safe driving is a skill I commit to practicing every single time.