Personal Narrative: A Day At Hilton Head High School

Vividly, I can remember walking through the high school doors for the first time as a freshman with shaky legs and a nervous heartbeat. The school was a jungle of wide, shiny hallways filled with lumbering seniors who I thought were going to knock my books down on Freshman Friday. However, time has passed, and now I find myself to be the tall and “scary” senior. As I ponder about the last four years I have spent at Little Falls Community High School, I can not help but realize how much I have changed for the better. As I have matured, I have gleaned that beauty does not come through makeup and clothing brands, but rather through processing a good heart. Also, I have changed my career and college plans after high school, and I know that I will

“Fight, fight, fight,” was the chant that so often filled the halls of West Monroe High School. The teachers heard it every time but always hid in the teacher's lounge for fear of being attacked. This was the legacy of WMH, fights, student riots, and terrified teachers.

The coach made us run extra harder, which many people did not enjoy. I ran thinking, if I run hard enough, I will run the greatest 2-mile, the distance we have to run in the league finals, I have ever ran. We would run intervals, 1 lap, 2 laps, 3 laps, 4 laps, and vice versa. We would also run up and down stairs and run track laps until we felt like puking. The week passed by fast as we practiced, and the league finals was just up ahead now. The weekend before the meet, wasn’t much, but for most of the weekend, I had butterflies in my stomach multiplying every second the meet got closer. My dad told me not to worry, which I thought was silly, because this was a huge meet. I got a lot of rest sleeping, and finally, the day had come. The day of the cross country league

In 2014 I began attending Chase High School. I would always joke about how I would be the one to get lost and hide in a locker until three o’clock but when the first day rolled around I wasn’t nervous because I knew most of the seniors and I was on the volleyball team. I loved my freshmen schedule, I had classes with all of my friends, I liked most of my teachers and best of all I had first lunch. Volleyball season was starting off decent, we hadn’t won any games but we were having fun and I was a starter. After about three games into the season the JV team was practicing one day in the AUX gym and that is when my volleyball season took a turn for the worst. We were practicing our hitting lines and it was my turn to hit, the setter set me up but they pushed the ball too far back and

I approached that year’s conditioning with a pessimistic attitude and wondered why was I doing this when I’m not going to run in meets. Just like the year before, I assumed that conditioning and practicing would be obsolete. I braced myself for another disappointing year. Every winter day after school, I braced myself against the cold with a hope that this season would be different. I went into the first day of practice feeling in shape and optimistic. But just like freshman year, there was no preparing for the ache and suffering of the first practice. With the season approaching, our coach timed us to determine who would run in meets. Our coach divided us into groups based on how fast she thought we were. When a senior saw that I was in the first, slower group, he said that I belonged in the faster group with them. Hearing that compliment from a senior changed my outlook on the season might go. As the first track meet approached, we split off into groups so we could perfect our technique based on the event we were running. As I was jogging around the track wondering whether this year was going to be the same as last year, our coach summoned me over to perfect baton handoffs for the 4x100 meter relay. As the realization hit me that I was going to compete, I thought, “I’m not going to relinquish this spot because I labored profusely to attain

It was my freshman year of high school where I was just a lost fish in a hugh sea of people attending Byron Nelson High School, with no clue who I was and my place in life. Life seemed rough but then again it was freshman year. When I was attending Byron I didn't know what I was going to do with my life in the future. On one day just like any other the morning school announcements came on; talking about some meeting in the counselor's office about some academy. At that time I had no idea what they were talking about and I had never even heard of Eaton High school, which happens to be the new high school for my school district. It came to lunch time where my friend that I sat with was absent, so I figured why not go see what this meeting is

I heard my teammates cheer and I jogged over to them. I greeted them with high fives and hugs. The person whom I shot a mean look to acted hurt at first, but then smiled and congratulated me. I didn’t get too close as he had thrown up minutes before. I couldn’t find my coach, but I knew he was

At this meet, instead of a gun, they fire a cannon. The cannon fired and we were off. I felt super slow this meet. I was mad I thought I was going to get a worse time than Bob Schul again. I ran through the race passing people, letting the energy from the crowd keep me going because hearing someone yell for me when I’m running I feel so much better. Eventually I got down this small hill and I saw the finish line about 200 meters ahead. The clock was in the 17’s and I got really excited because for me, this was really good. I was sprinting as fast as my legs could go. I thought I was going to fall on my face because I couldn’t control my legs anymore. I ended up with a time of 18:08. A PR by a minute and a half, that would stand most of the season. No matter how slow I was, and how much my speed was made fun of at practice, I still got high-fives and congratulations after a meet. The rest of the meet was fun because we all hung out, waiting for the award and eating the really good buttered parmesan pasta. Greenville was not death, it was the best.

I learned some important things in my sixth grade year at Cascade Middle School. I

We all support and motivate each other through the difficult times. About a week into my season, I had still only ran with other eighth graders, but my coach believed I could handle more. After we finished a mile warm up on the track, Couch Rodak began selecting the groups for the workout. “Ward, Grippo, LaSpina…” He then turned towards me with his big blue eyes and mustached face. “Amiaga.” Then marked the first time of working out with varsity runners. I thought I misheard my coach, when he placed me in that group. They would likely drop me in the first mile. He selected us for a five-mile run, but the many hills of Franklin Lakes and Oakland made it feel much longer. We started off at a fairly even pace, but would gradually increase in speed closer to a 7 minute per mile pace. As a newcomer, I felt overwhelmed, but I put my mind to it. Once we got into our second and third mile, I was already gasping for air. However, I locked on to the man in front of me and refused to fall behind. My legs became heavier with every step I took.

In the last fourteen years of school, there have been numerous memories shared that I will hold with me for as long as I can. From preschool to senior year, I have been with the same group of kids I call my best friends. School has been a place where some great things have happened, and then some not so great things. Some school years have been better than others, and some school days make me want to go back in time to relive the day all over again. Although I may forget everything that happened to me during my elementary and high school years, there is one day that will stick out to me forever. This was a day in seventh grade. The student council had put on a mock accident to teach the kids about drinking and driving.

I called my mom to pick me up and as I sat on the sidewalk waiting, I felt confident of my abilities, but then again couldn’t help thinking about what happened last time. The coaches hadn’t said when we would find out who made the team, but they would email us in the next couple of days.

So I focused on getting faster in the little sprints we did and knew I was quite a bit faster than most people on the team. This started to build my confidence for track season because really I wanted basketball to be done and with. When track season came coach had made a new run called the 60 second challenge, sounds horrible right? Well it turns out that the second week we did that I beat everyone, however coach noticed, but really didn’t pay much attention to it. That very day I was talking to him saying “coach why don’t you put in the 400”. He in turn answered while laughing “your getting a little ahead of yourself”. That very year the 400 was my one and tragically only event I did that year, but it was kind of an “I told you so” moments that you kinda have to laugh about. This was putting me near my goal in lettering by Paul and me being the best 400m runners. When the day of conference came I was nervous, but was feeling good vibes about it. Little did I know I ran the race came in 9th and was literally a one second difference. I was one place, one spot from accomplishing this goal, but poof it just

Towards the end of my ninth grade year, one of my best friends convinced me to run on the cross country team. He ran the year prior and decided he would recruit as many people as possible to run on the team. He dragged me to the office where I reluctantly signed up for the sport and told me a little about the program and all it entailed. I was extremely nervous because the people in it were people who I did not know well, but were people I knew in passing. Our first practice was in late June, which basically started a long road of conditioning for distance running. During the summer, however, the friend that convinced me to sign up left to work a summer job, which would leave me with thirty other people I did not really know. This was the moment I started fighting the idea of going to practice altogether to prevent making a fool of myself in front of them. This was very intimidating to me and I did not want to put myself in that position, but I still had half a month to go at that point.

I get out of the bus nervous as fuck because it was my last time waking up this early for something that was important to me. I get the equipment out of the bus and my teammates were still crashed out in the bus. I look to the east and began to see the sun rise and I get out my cornmeal and pray to sun to watch me during my race and give me all its strengthen it can give me. It was 8 am. Camp was set up and I put down my bag and fell asleep again. It was a short 10 min nap. Then I was a woken by my coach and in my mind, I was what the fuck man I’m trying to rest up so I can make you look good, you fucker. But I got up and walked around then say the stand where they were selling clothing. I need one of those so I can look fresh as hell. I take my time I walk to my family see them with a bunch of gear that has my name on there. Just seeing people looking at me and in their minds, I think they were talking shit because I was the enemy of their son’s cross country team. It’s 9:00 am! Shit the first race started! I was nervous. I see my cousin racing and he’s from Zuni pueblo. Me and my family started yelling at him during his race because he was the favorite to win his division. The course had every element of a cross country like hills, grass, sand, flats, and a crowd that were super excited as I was. I look and I see my cousin coming through the straight away and they had a lead pack 6 people, the schools in the pack were Santa Fe Indian, Taos, Zuni,