How To Get Paid-Personal Narrative

The weather is perfect for racing: not too hot, not too humid, not too windy. I dash down the twisted trails in the woods, trying not to stumble on the gnarled roots protruding from the dirt. My spikes puncture the soft earth with every stride, and my legs repeatedly pound on the ground, soreness surging through them. As sweat trickles down my face and dirt smears across my aching calves, I ascend a steep hill, trying to bring forth the strength I have accumulated throughout endless hours of practice. Now that I am nearing the final two hundred meters, I must force my body to begin sprinting. Breathing heavily, I dart for the imminent finish line, trying to beat the uninterrupted tick of the timer. Even though the crowd surrounds all around me, I can barely hear their animated cheers, because all I can focus on is crossing the line before the girl next to me. I can feel adrenaline surging through my body, and I widen my stride to cap off the remaining distance. When I glance at my Garmin watch, a new personal best time flashes across the screen. I realize that all of the gruelling work I have put in is worth the final result: happiness. (Snapshot Lead)

Feeling exhausted, I focus on my breathing. I breath in through my nose and then out through my mouth, breath in and out. Repeat. After passing the mile mark, my coach is shrieking for me to relax, because I am on my way to qualify for cross country states. The top twenty girls qualify, and I have been dreaming of this day since freshman year. All I have to do is hold my position, and then I am golden. Suddenly, my legs begin to feel like jello. My running partner slowly fades ahead of me, and I cannot keep up. It feels like I am running backwards as the rest of my teammates pass me one by one. Fighting fatigue, I tell myself I am finishing this race, whether or not I have to crawl like a turtle to do so. I am crossing that finish line.

Laying down in bed the night before the meet was always nerve wracking, wondering who was going to show up to the meet the next day. The drive over to the track was often long and silent. Often thinking of every outcome of each race could drive a runner insane. Finally arriving and seeing all the athletes, spectators, and the crowd. The roar of the announcer echoing through the stadium. I stepped on the track hoping to see a few familiar faces. The cold breeze blowing against my tracksuit. I began to warm up and tuned out

In sixth grade I quit the school band in the middle of my third year to join Running Club. The goal of Running Club was to run a 5k after weeks of practice and I accepted the challenge. Throughout the duration of training, I would find the long runs consistently demanding and a test to my motivation to persevere in the club. One of the coaches, Miss. Ames, was my teacher from the previous year and she ran with me during practice. She constantly encouraged me to push myself a little more every run and to keep practicing. I was frustrated with my performance, but Miss. Ames continued to encourage me. Nevertheless, preparing for that 5k was an eye-opening and an overall amazing experience.

“Good Job keep going, you can do it, run run faster, you got this!” These were the words coming from the audience as I was finishing my last 100 meters in the cold, pouring, rain during sectionals. I was in second place in my heat and my heart was thumping and I couldn't see through the water stains on my glasses, but I heard someone someone breathing hard and their spikes hitting the track as they ran behind me and I knew I had to push even harder.I remembered the rough trading I had in practice and knew I could do it.

In the beginning I felt like I should just quit, but I thought, what was all that practice for then? So I kept running anyways. I passed a couple guys while we're going up and down, left and right. There were many people on the side cheering and even though they weren’t cheering for me, it helped me keep running. The run went by very quickly and the finish line came up in a flash. Many people around me started sprinting, but I felt like throwing up at that point. I slowed down, but then I heard my dad cheering on for me. I couldn't let him down, so I ignored the feeling of throwing up and sprinted. I kept on running passing a couple people, and it was over. I came in 19th place. I went to my dad disappointed for letting him

Suddenly, with no warning, two runners of the grade below me pulled ahead. I couldn’t believe it! They were a year younger than me, yet they were faster. However, I knew I wouldn’t be able to catch up even at my best. As I neared the 100 meter line, I started to convert into a jogging pace and got my bearings. I allowed myself to breathe again and relax but still trying to run my best. I was in 3rd place with the two kids in front of me about 50 meters away. I cleared my mind and just concentrated on breathing; taking a deep breath in through my nose, and letting it all out of my mouth. I was starting to feel the fatigue in my muscles and my legs are crying for rest, but I refused. I started hearing heavy breathing noises and loud footsteps behind me, steadily catching up. I risked a peek to my left and was horrified and yet surprised that my chubby classmate was right on my heels. I was not going to be beaten again and into 4th place. I pushed myself harder and pumped my legs and arms with renewed energy. All my blood rushed to my head and I felt like a locomotive cutting through the cold air. As we ran around the bend, we were head to head and trying to outdo each other. He

Running stayed on my mind all throughout the day, it was what I loved to do. At the Yukon state track meet my heart was racing more than ever. I’ve trained all season for this meet hoping to place top 6 in the state. It was blazing hot outside with the wind pushing a little hard against us. Me and my team was up next to run the 4x400m against many other schools that were competing that day. As we lined up in order from first leg to anchor, listening to the referee position us on where to stand, we were all scared. The referee shot the gun and the first leg runners took off. When it was my turn to go, I nervously stepped onto the red 8 lane track.

I knew the first couple weeks of practice were going to drag on, but I was ready for whatever workout coach was going to throw at me. Then came meets and the fun really started. Don't get me wrong, I was definitely feeling the nerves, but it didn’t stop me. The first indoor meet was at Buena Vista College and I was in the open 400, the one race I had been training for. I was so anxious to see what my time was going to be that I was shaking. I just kept telling myself, “This is what you worked for. Everything that you have worked for starts showing now.” I ended up getting my PR and winning the race. It was the first of many heart pounding meets. As the season went on, every meet started to count even more and I was getting frustrated because my time wasn’t getting better. After crying to my dad one night after a meet, I realized that what did matter is that I wasn't getting worse either. I was maintaining my time and that counted for something. A couple weeks later I was standing in my blocks at the district meet trying to maintain my nerves. After the hardest 400 of my life, I ended up making it to state and I could not have been

During the fall of senior year, I joined the cross country team to help prepare and condition me for the track season, in the spring. Skeptical at first, I knew that I didn't have any endurance since I only sprint over hurdles during the track season, but little did I know that the weeks were passing and the end of the cross country season arrived. Though I was one of the inexperienced long distance runners, I knew that I ran the fastest I could because when I crossed the finish line I had an overwhelming nauseous feeling. As someone who runs a short distance, I was proud of myself for making it to the end of the season without quitting, especially since cross country is running for a long distance, which other sports make their athletes do

All the time and hard work spent had to pay off for something. I was also determined to beat my biggest rival on the team. She wouldn't hesitate to smear my face in it if she got a faster time than me. We stepped up to the 200 meter starting line and I tried to push the nervous thoughts out of my head. It felt like butterflies were bouncing off the walls of my stomach. We got into the start position and our coach began counting down from 5. It was only 5 seconds but it felt like an eternity. The four of us took off in unison and I could tell I was going to have to give this race everything I had. There was no way I was going to let the others defeat me. I heard the pounding of my feet against the track as I ran the curve. That's when I realized I was already in front of the rest and I began sprinting with every ounce of energy I had left. There were nearly 100 meters to the finish line and my legs were moving so fast it felt as if I was flying. I kept thinking about how much I had been working towards this and how I would not let myself down. Bolting through the finish line I could tell that was one of the best races I've ever run. My lungs felt heavy, legs aching from exhaustion and my eyes were watering from the frigid wind. As my coach was recording my time on his clipboard he revealed how many seconds faster I had been. Not only had I beaten my own personal best, but I had gotten the fastest sub varsity time.

In cross country I believe in me working hard and finishing strong. I never walk or stop to catch my breath because I go hard from the start to finish. I may not be the strongest or the fastest but I will be working the hardest. “Cross country teaches us to challenge our self. It teaches us to push beyond where we thought we couldn't go. It helps us find what we are made of.” When I run I always start fast and end faster. When I see people walking at practice I say, “Stop walking, start running!” Then they will start to run. My coach always said, “Tell your body no!” that means the more you stop the more your body will want to stop.

Focusing on the course that lay ahead, chills slithered down my back. The shot of the reverberating gun fired and I charged with my heart pounding like the sound of a drum. With my arms pumping and legs moving vigorously onto the course, I was the average runner in battle with my mind. My teammates leaped and hopped with excitement as I bolted; I pictured my body gracefully drifting through the air while the world stood silent. The last grueling hundred meters, I thrusted my body to the end of the finish line while the other runners stood in utter awe of my amateur performance, I flailed to the ground. Staring up at the sky, as I sat breathless and fatigued, engulfed in deep thought. I could feel the wind in my face and the dirt in my mouth. I was swept away by the calm before the storm, the exhilaration, the immense amount of heart each individual had, but mostly the passion for running.

The nervousness building up inside me as I see my teammate racing down the final straightaway. I know that I will have to run faster than I ever had before. This was counties, this was the time to go as harder than I ever had. The thoughts going through my head put butterflies in my stomach. I couldn’t let my team down, not after we had worked so hard to get where we were. My teammate comes closer to hand off the baton for my portion of the race. One last emotion ran through my mind as soon as he had handed me the baton, and that was one word. Run.

Right from when I woke up the day felt different. My stomach churned and all I could think about was how much I wanted to win. I could barely eat because my nerves were nibbling away at me. As I was getting driven to school, I kept picturing my running strategy in my head. I had two races tonight, the 400 meter dash and the 4x400 relay. Our relay team had put in hours of work. Our handoffs were now nearly seamless, and we knew tonight was going to be our run.