My earbuds were in, but I wasn’t playing music. I needed to hear the world but didn’t want the world to know I was listening. My competition stretched and rambled on to others on my left giving me every detail of how she was approaching the race without even knowing it. My breath was shaky due to the tedious warm up I had just completed and was leaning against the fencing of the warm-up area. Despite the eight-five degrees weather, I was wearing sweatpants and a long-sleeve tee to make sure my muscles stay warm. My eyes scanned the overcrowded area focusing on the way every runner prepared and studying their technique. From the right, I could see my coach approaching. He was a blunt man who has been coaching track and field for most of his …show more content…
That was only two weeks ago but feels like a whole year has passed. “Girls 300-meter hurdles please report to the track. Girls 300-meter hurdles.” After I finished tying my spikes, I grabbed my bag and moved past the girl I was listing to earlier and pushed to the front of the crowd that had gathered near the entrance. I had to wait for my name to be called. “Bridget Plate!” I raised my hand pushing past a few girls in front of me. “Heat 4. Lane 3.” I moved to get in line behind the girl in lane 3 from heat three. The announcer finished calling the rest of my heat. “Alright ladies, we will be moving to the starting line. You can take off warm-up gear here and the will head out.” I peeled off my long-sleeve tee and pulled my sweatpants over my spikes. I felt more comfortable in my tank top jersey and running spandex. Sweat dripped down my forehead and the back of my knees were glistening in the sun. “Okay, we are moving!” I took one more sip of water before following the girl in front of me onto the track. My heart started to pick up speed and I felt my nervous set in. The rack was a burnt red making my bright orange spikes pop even more. My eyes darted to the finish line where I saw coach Dobry waiting just like he said. “Stay in your lanes, ladies!” shouted the official. “Heat one set up your blocks!” The first row of runner moved up setting up their running blocks. I switched lifting my knees to my chest making sure I
I stood at the top of the hill. It was Regional day. My team and I trained all year for that day. The sun was shining and the snow was crisp—just like the air. The wind was silent and allowed the clamor of the festivities to hang in the air undisturbed. I could hear everything. The chanting of names and times from the loudspeaker. The racers’ skis slicing into the snow. My favorite rhythmic clapping of shins on gates. Then, to my surprise, “Tylor Kistler, bib 156?” a pause, “racer may go when ready”. Oh no. If my mind wasn’t racing before, it was racing then. All my thoughts jumbled into a chaotic scream.
It was my first race headed to Greater Lowell Tech.The first thing that happens when i walk into Greater Lowell’s track were 50 to 100 people in different schools including greater lowell there were schools like Mystic Valley, Northeast. My heart was pounding heavily like it can’t stop. luckily i was taking deep breaths to calm myself because the quad race haven’t started yet. So then our coach was discussing about Greater Lowell’s Course but there were a lot people i was shocked to watch. then show us the course when should we take advantage to pass people. Then the starter guy will say all boys will meet in the starting line so i walk there seeing 50 to 100 people in the starting line i already feel my legs shaking and aching a lot, mouth dry too need water etc. I look at the other teams they looked determined
I was on the track running my laps and ruminating on the victory I had just attained. My next match would determine who would win the war. As I ran, a light sweat lathered my body,
Applying my leg, we stepped into the trot. I felt the movement of the trot through my knees and into my heels. It was nice to have such a smooth movement to follow.
I was escorted to the balcony, with Jax sitting and watching the two below us. Nobody was in the arena, so the echo of the speaking counting down to the beginning was a little unsettling.
Never running in muddy and cold weather like this, I became even more nervous, hoping I would not fall. Only thirty minutes before the race, I began stretching. After stretching, I found my chute and realized I would be sharing it with three other girls. We talked until the official came over to talk to all the girls. “Girls who participating in the 1A race, you have 1 minute until the race starts,” the official explained. Quickly I took off my outer garments until I was in my shorts and jersey tank.
I waited in anticipation for the line of people ahead of me to slowly shorten. When we finally arrived at the front of the line, the room seemed to be spinning, and I felt like I was going to pass out. Hoping this feeling would pass soon, I leaned on the desk.
Before I knew it the Starter pointed his gun high and fired. Across the starting line from both sides I felt runners storming off, as did I. I wanted to take a smart approach as I planned I would. The first mile quickly came up and I was advancing my place further to put myself into a positive position to finish. A mile and a half into the race overall I felt relaxed and was still moving up passing runners. Next the second mile came up and I was starting to struggle as were some runners close by. Additionally hills were to come in the next mile and a half and I wasn’t looking forward to it, but I knew If I stopped then slowed down, I wouldn’t satisfy myself. Eventually I made it through the hills along with other struggling runners. The last part of the race came and as soon as I made it to where I had about 400m left, overall I gave it all I had in the moment so that I finished in excellent standing with myself. As I gave it all I could I passed a few runners in the process and as a few passed by as well. Finally, after several minutes of trying to catch my breath I finally
I could feel my legs straining with every step my lungs were being weighed down by cinderblocks sweat was stinging my eyes, but still I refused to show weakness. “you can do it” painfully croaked out of my throat not sure if I was talking to myself or the person running next to me coach's face shoved its way into my head I felt the terror all over again as I heard him say today you're going to take chase up Weir.
A human barrier was formed on both sides, creating a velvet green corridor. The finish line looked strangely closer than I knew it was. One last check at my laces. My spikes were extensions of my body, as they snugly enveloped my feet.
The starter yelled, “ On your marks. Get set. BANG!” All the JV girls took off. Starting out with remarkable pace, I thought this would be my fastest race.
The last contestant had finished: the applause, loud and threatening, called me into the ring.
"Get up." I bolted up, running again. This continued for what seemed forever, me begging my body to keep running even though it was worn out and I had no energy left.
The anxiety before the race, the encouragement from the team, and the anticipation of the firing of the gun. I take a step to the starting line. Boom, it’s the firing of the gun. I sprint to get my pace. The pack of runners separates. It’s two laps to go, and my lungs are gasping for breath. Finally, the last lap, and the bell rings. I tell myself, “you have to give it all you’ve got.” The change of pace, then it’s the 200 mark. I see the girl in front of me. I know I can catch her, but it’s going to take courage to lay it all out there. The increase of pace, it’s a dead sprint. There isn’t anything left to give. The wind is brushing across my face. I’m closing in on her. It’s all so close. “I’ve got her though,” I tell myself. I leave her behind me, and it’s a new P.R., 6:35.
I would sit on the bench for a few minutes, go in, then come out in the last ten minutes. I didn’t like it much, but hey, what are you gonna do?