My First Time Of The Worst Races Of My Life

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.

The flags are in sight and off on a wild sprint! I’m going and across the line I am! Exhausted but satisfied. I thought I saw my time was 28 minutes. I had to know the seconds. ( Yes, every second counts.) I was preparing myself mentally for what my time would be. I was eager to know. I ran to my Coach as soon as he was in sight. I ran to him and I immediately asked for my times. He told me and I had to see for myself. 28:04. 28:04!! I was excited! I can’t remember if I jumped up and down or not. Wouldn't be surprising. One thing I did for sure was, walked away and cried. Not only was it 28:04. It was my heart's desire. Coming close to the end of the season, I couldn’t see myself running a varsity time. So the lowest time I hoped I’d get would be 28 and it was!!

In the novel The Perfect Mile, three men each set out on their own journey of breaking four minutes running a. A quote that captures the theme of the novel is “Further, the four-minute mile had to be won alone. There could be no teammates to blame, no coach during halftime to inspire a comeback. One might hide behind the excuses of cold weather, an unkind wind, a slow track or jostling competition, but ultimately these obstacles had to be defied. Winning a foot race, particularly one waged against the clock, was ultimately a battle with oneself, over oneself.” (2) The three men, John Landy, Roger Bannister and Wes Santee put it to the test. They overcame mental and physical challenges, defeated criticism and were determined to break the barrier.

I soon snapped out of this state, hastily trying to stretch my muscles, which were cramping because I was so anxious. I heard the announcer yell “Ready, Set, Go!” followed by the pop of the starting pistol. Startled I took off running as fast as I could momentary forgetting to pace myself. I knew I would run out of energy if I didn’t do something to correct myself, so I slowed down and matched my breath to my steps. This way I could get an adequate amount of air into my lungs for aerobic respiration. By doing this I cruised through the first mile of the

Greater lawrence, pass him, Sprint. So i finish on the floor dying couldn’t breath properly so i deep breaths and needed water my mouth was dry. After the race was over needed time to process like what happen in the beginning i knew we’re going to face greater lowell next week needed to be prepared for the time being. I needed to fix on my start so i don’t have to be the hero. I need to work on is my breathing it didn’t go so well and how to keep a pace with someone so i won’t lose the guy and cost the team some points if i do that well i’m gold. I needed to workout my legs so they won’t hurt during in races. The most important i have to do is keep my body calm and mind during the race next week. I knew in my next race it’s not all about having speed and it was mostly having a good mentality. So i work on a one week later race against greater lowell again i have done better which i did before at least i had the knowledge of the course to back that up it was a great

Every runner wore a bib number with the time they start on it. As I was running people were passing me who had started after me, and I kept thinking I was going too slow and that I shouldn’t be taking this long to complete it. Through words of encouragement from my mom and decipline mentras from myself I finished the race, I crosses the fanish line and the feeling of triumph as I crossed it was something I’ll never forget.

My throat was parched instantly. Knowing that I had to stay with Shelby. Repetitively telling myself that I could do it, I have to. Once I arrived at the mile mark before I knew it. I was searching all over but I could not see Shelby. Second guessing that she was ahead of me, I worked even harder. The wind was strong and the air was dirty. For a minute I was thinking that I could not do it; however, I changed that thought quickly after I saw the finish line. Pushing the hardest I had ever pushed. Noticing that I had made it, I placed 81st in

Taylor being a newer runner she was towards the back, With her teammates cheering loudly she finished. Her time wasn't that bad for being a newer runner she completed that race with a 27:42. Or so she thought that was a good time until her teammates were telling her the times that they got. That day she decided to keep practicing to become a better runner as well as a better participating member on her team .After a few more races she grew sad because she hasn't gotten a personal record, until later the season she came to one of her races where she got a 26:10 to others it may just seem like one minute less but to a runner it is a big accomplishment. She was super happy and proud of her accomplishment, being towards the end of the cross country season. She concludes at the end of her season saying that she had worked hard and pushed it to become her best. Next year she hopes to get in the lower 20's for her times. She can only accomplish her goal with pushing even harder, becoming the best of her ability. Despise her injury this season she hopes to be better than she was this year, she just needs to practice and work even harder than she was this year and keep

“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

I take a deep breath. This is the moment I have been training for. The announcer calls us to the starting line. We see that gun raise towards the sky. Ready. Set. Go. Then bang the gun goes off and hundreds of girls take off like they are being chased by an angry pack of wolves. 1 mile in and the pain begins to set in but I push through it. Legs weak and struggling the for air I fly past the second mile mark. Finally, I hear the crowd roaring and the finish line is in sight, I begin to sprint until my legs cannot move any faster. Crossing the finish line, I collapse to the ground. Running 3.1 miles as fast as you can will do that to anyone, but all the early morning and hot summer practices are all worth it in the end. Laying on the ground gasping for air, a smile full of pride stretches across my face because I am a runner and it is awesome.

Nerves take over the runner’s stomach as they anticipate the beginning of the five-kilometer run, started off with the loud bang of a gunshot. The beginning of the races are always the worst. Waiting for the gunshot, packed like sardines with your team and multiple other teams. BANG- the gunshot fires and there one finds herself struggling to make their way up to the front or even middle of the pack. All that can be heard is the stampede of runners and the fans screaming for their own runner and team they came to support. Occasionally you hear the runner in the back of the pack speaking their opinion loudly about how much she hates this

Hundreds of family and friends drive hours just to see a eighteen minute race with the possibility of winning being slim but, knowing this race can change someone's life. We get to the meet earlier than we should’ve thinking the traffic would have been horrible on the day of the State Cross Country Meet. Off in the distance we see big fancy busses with tons of runners from experienced facilities stretching in nothing but, the newest brand of athletic clothes. Feeling insecure about our ability to perform as everyone else that earned their spot their.

As a timid freshman, I attended my first annual cross country camp. The first morning arrived, and at 6AM Dave Gerlach, my coach barged in echoing, “Good Morning ladies today is a beautiful day for a run.” This saying was repeated every morning, regardless if it was actually a beautiful day to run. While he yelled this through the cabins simultaneously flashing the intense lights impairing our eyes, worst if you were on the top bunk, which was not in my favor at the time. Keeping my eyes closed, I lugged myself out of bed scrambling to find clothes out of my disheveled suitcase. Over, under, around and through, Meet Mr. Bunny Rabbit, pull and through. And Just like that my shoes were on ready to run. The first run was a simple 6K. As the gun went off I thought to myself, Easy...right?