Personal Narrative: An Evening Of Tri-County League Championship

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)

The second practice we went straight to work. Coach Andy made us run as well as tackling drills. It was during one of these tackling drills that Mike had gotten injured. One of the team members had accidentally hit Mike’s elbow with his helmet. Mike was in severe pain and the coach insisted he keep doing push ups. I went over to Mike and tried to talk to him but he was in too much pain to even hold a conversation. Eventually, the coach realized he was injured and sent him to the bench. The next day, Mike was in an arm sling and was forced to quit the season.

“Runners on your mark! Set!” BOOM! Went the gun. Sprinting, the runners advance. I saw the parade of runners before my eyes. Even though I was just behind them, they seemed so far away. All I could hear was cheers from the fences chanting your name until she tripped me. There was a dead silence. No one knew she tripped me, but I did. My face smashed right against the pavement. She tripped me. The Lane 4 runner tripped me. I couldn’t believe it. Coaches running over towards me. But before they could help me, I got up and kept running. Even though the other runners were almost finished with the race, I still wanted to run. I started out on the slower side until I got a momentum. I knew there was no chance on winning, but what the heck. Now I have to

It was time to go out to our exchange zones and set up our marks. My team said their last good lucks to each other and we departed to our zones. I could smell the fresh air and see the red track. As all the participants and I walked around the track, my stomach quickly refilled with butterflies. Finally, we had reached the third exchange zone where I set up my marks in lane eight. Then I did a few practice take offs and pretend handoffs. I looked over behind me to see a familiar face, Coach

In the year of 2017, the month of May was the upcoming state meet held in the lower south of Georgia. Being a 17 year old who is very arrogant about her work that she’s accomplished on the track. La’Necia was only weeks away from the biggest meet of her life, “crunch time” like her coach would always say. Practice after practice,pop off after pop off, and hurdle after hurdle knowing very confident that she was ready for the race. She thought to herself “there’s not anyone that can stop me from winning first place at this meet.”

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.

Even though I had swum on a relay with my lane mates at the MHSAA D1 State Championship Meet the season before, come in seventh place out of the entire state with them on that relay, and shattered the Varsity record with them, I still doubted my ability to make the required pace times. “Get ready girls, this should be a super fun set!” Our coach jokingly shouted. In my mind, I was writing my will, dedicating the set we were about to swim—which I thought was going to be my last—to my teammates, and preparing for the absolute

We were fighting the pain to make it to the last two races of the season, Regionals and States. Regionals was a very emotional race for us. The previous year we were defeated by Parkersburg and was unable to attend states. We had ruined the streak for the girls varsity of PHS to make it to states. We were devastated. This race was different than the others. This race determined who ran in states. We knew we had to give it our all. At the start line, Coach wrote a “1” on our leg to keep in mind the one year we didn’t make it to states. We knew that staying home this year was not an option. We raced hard with everything we had. As everyone finished we had this feeling of defeat. We cried and just put ourselves down. We were not confident in our performances. Coach Martin and P. Sines knew it was a close race. However they had more information than we did. They knew the results. They watched us cry as a team and continue to believe we didn’t make top three. This was the moment I will never forget. “Coming in third place is…..PRESTON HIGH SCOOOOOOL” announced the official. No longer were we crying sad tears. We were crying tears of

After we were assigned our lanes, I counted my steps off and then started my normal warm up routine; two tuck jumps, shake and loosen the muscles in my right leg, then my left leg, and then a shoulder roll. I inhaled deeply, held it for a moment, and stared at the sky. It was a cold and rainy day, not an ideal day to be competing, but I was glad I even got the opportunity. I exhaled slowly, trying to calm my nerves. I knew how critical it was that our handoffs were perfect, especially in a race like this one. As I placed my feet on their marks and got in the right position, I waited to hear the gun go

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.

“You’ll do fantastic, Malia! You’re really good at this, you’ll have an incredible race!” I smiled, “I’m nervous though, I don't know how I’ll do,” I shook my hands out, and felt my feet bounce on the asphalt of the track.

Im standing in line waiting my turn to race. I am at the university of tennessee about to race the 200M freestyle against 50 of the top kids in the entire southeast. I'm nervous but excited I am prepared but worried and I am thinking of everything that could go wrong but I keep my focus. I have to it's too late to go back now. Finally it's my turn I step up on the block and I get ready, the siren sounds I jump of the block into the water I try to remember everything my coach taught me in practice everything that got me to this point. I make the first turn I am in the middle of the pack making sure to pace myself turn 2 into turn 3 I am now headed down the home stretch putting everything I have into this last stretch and it pays off 3rd place and 20th place out of 50.

Then, it was time for the final few meets of the season, all of which would be leading to the biggest track meet in the entire country: the Junior Olympics in Greensboro, North Carolina. This time, I didn’t want to leave that track without a medal around my neck. It was a very ludicrous statement, considering that to win a medal in my main event, the 4x800 meter relay race, you had to be one of the top eight 4x800 meter relay teams in the entire country. I remained unfazed. Nothing could stand in my way.

“The 8,000 meters event is up next, get in your places,” said the announcer. My heart skipped a beat. The 8,000 meters is eight laps around a track, which is two miles. I was trying to push my mom toward the exit of Santa Barbara City College’s track, hoping she did not hear the announcement. “The 8,000 meter event is now,” mom said excitedly, pushing me forward toward the starting line. I was melting with fear and uncertainty like entering a dark tunnel with no end in sight.

During the practices and the games, I would get down on myself and the coach told me," To never get down on myself and to just keep moving forward and to leave all of the mess up's in the past". There was a lot of people supporting the football team and the Cheerleaders.