Personal Narrative Analysis

I remember a September morning at the peak of cross country season. At 5:30am my body dragged itself out of bed against my brain's will and I was pulling up to the track soon after. As we had all anticipated, today would be the track long run, in which all of our miles would be run in laps around the track. That came out to about 32 laps, an intimidating number for any of us. To the average person, such a workout seems challenging at best; although no one complained. In fact, our coach seemed to have an inspirational glow in his eyes as we made our way to the track. The moon and stars were still shining brightly as stadium lights flooded the field in blue light. We began our laps in a close pack determined to stay together until no longer

When I was younger, my mother completed two full marathons. Inspired by her, I decided to run the Towpath Full Marathon in October of 2015. I suppose I am not an average teenager, as I was only 17 when I had completed this marathon. I began training in April before my junior prom, and continued my runs, despite the hilly surface of my hometown, and the humidity that I faced in the summer. I also made sure that I was eating very healthily, and have always had good nutritional knowledge. In between marathon training, I was also working as a lifeguard and swim lesson instructor, while taking a summer college credit course. I had not known it at the time of the end training weeks, but I was suffering from severe hypothyroidism, very uncommon for active teenagers. At this time I was constantly exhausted, unable to bear any feeling of being cold, and my emotions were incredibly out of whack. I started to hate

Running has become my escape and has taught me how to better deal with the ups and downs of life. When I am stressed or upset, there is nothing like a run. For just a little while nothing else matters except for charging up the next hill, dodging the next puddle, or hopping over the next branch. Runs give me perspective. When my world seems to be testing, studying, stress, and headaches, a good run centers me. The familiar sounds of my racing heart, my steady breaths, and my feet hitting the ground relaxes me and reminds me that everything will to turn out alright. This is why I first fell in love with running and why I plan on never stopping.

Music is my best method of release, enhanced by my run. My exercise playlist never fails to mirror my mood. Harmonies of classical composer used to fill my time as I would tirelessly pound their pieces on the piano and violin. My naivete concealed the agonizing stories behind the stark white sheet music. I’m astounded as I now unveil their stories throughout my run: Shostakovich rebelling against the Russian government and fighting for his freedom through his melodies. Beyonce radiating strength and power yet beauty in women through her lyrics. The notes intertwine to form stories that transforms a calming yet repetitive task, like running, into a captivating new

Eventually, the regular running trails became littered with crisp brown leaves and my breath left cool condensation floating in the air. Now, I could run 6 miles without pausing. I even went as far as to join my middle school cross country team. I worked hard with my teammates and finally achieved a 13:27 two mile time. In my exercising process, I had lost 20 pounds. Better yet, my high blood pressure was a thing of the past; I was back in the healthy range.

As I grew older, to cure my so-called clumsiness, my parents encouraged me to go on runs with my remarkably coordinated, cross-country running brother. At first, I deemed their well-intentioned suggestion as a ludicrous idea. However, I skeptically accepted their advice. And so, every day, I would

A jounrey of a thousand miles begins with a single step. Many years back, I took that very first step when I decided to run, and a thousand miles later, I am still running. Litorally. Ive done the math. Now some people say they love running because “running is fun” and that they “feel great when running.” Those people are liars. Running is painful, demanding, and draining. I run because after balancing multiple AP classes, family responsibilities, other extracurriculars and a social life, i need an outlet for stress, and the best one i've found is pouring that frustration into five miles of hard pavement. I run so that I can look at myself in the

Six years ago, I broke my radius and my ulna. It involved an intricately rigged rope swing. Exactly 20 days after my 11th birthday.

I stood on that sidewalk contemplating my existence. The bone-chilling damp wind whipped my rosy cheeks, and the morning rain soaked my faded t-shirt. The whistle blew, and I took off. The sound of my teammates’ sneakers squishing against the soaked cement, combined with the resonance of my coach screaming my name harmoniously come together to create my morning motivational playlist.The dreaded half-mile hill workout evolved into a staple Saturday morning activity for a distance runner. As I approached the peak, the possibility of conquering the hill seemed increasingly more unrealistic as pain set in. Making my ascent, I could not help to notice how the adrenaline and anxiety coursing through my veins compared to the feelings experienced when I am bogged down with schoolwork, and how the experience running hills, in general, compares to the life of a high schooler.

“Your focus can only be on what is in front of you, not beside you or behind you.” In life, we are always going to have to make decisions, which is why it is important that we weigh our options and know where our focus lies. For most teenagers the idea of waking up at six in the morning to go on a seven mile run, would sound like a drag. Simply because their focus is somewhere else. However, for me and my teammates, our focus has always been past the finish line. A place where we have always obtained a sense of accomplishment. To a personal level, the past two summers have been a challenge, but with the energy of my teammates and the idea of becoming better, I was able to get through summer workouts. However, being long distance runner requires discipline yearlong. Keeping up with school work, eating healthy, and not going out so that I could be in bed by nine to wake up at five am, became part of a lifestyle that I eventually built into. Realizing how much I had grown from my first meet to today, made me value my efforts. Thanks to coach’s workouts and my hard work, I was able to keep pushing my strides in today’s

Eventually, as I grew older, I started running with my dad on the Allegheny Riverfront Trail. My friends and family would always tell me how phenomenal of a runner I was, but I never believed it until I decided to run my first 5k race. In the week leading up to it, I trained in the scorching sun, regardless how blistering the heat was. At last, today was the race. I woke up with enthusiasm rippling through my legs like water, and excitement swirled like cotton candy in my mind. Today was the day I would prove to myself how much courage and strength truly seeps in my skin. I was so determined to do the best I possibly could during this race. I knew that my spirited attitude towards finishing this race would bring me even closer to the finish line. When I lined up with the hundreds of other runners, my adrenaline started to kick in, making my muscles tense. However, I told myself to just focus on effort, not winning. Effort is an aspect of my life that I refuse to overlook, because if I did, how would I accomplish anything? I promised myself to run as if this was the last day of my life. Five, four, three, two, one: the race is on. My feet burst into flames, and I can feel the heat rush through my calves as I begin my race with a quick sprint. A group of speedy runners blaze past me, and I can feel a surge of willpower turn on in my body. I remind myself to run at my own pace, though. I let the remarkable feeling of

A lot of people dislike running and the thought of getting up super early in the morning to go for a run can seem even more daunting. However, I hold a different view because if I don’t go for an early morning run, I feel tired and terrible for the whole day. It all began in high school, when i joined Cross country and track in my freshmen year. I really started to enjoy running and was quite good at it. During winter break, we didn 't have practices and we were supposed to run on our own. Therefore, I used to make time to run in the evenings everyday during the break. One day on break, I was supposed to be busy the whole day and decided that I wouldn 't find time to run, so I decided to wake up early and finish my run. This was one of the best decisions I had ever made, because It helped me developed a good habit that i follow till this day and helps me stay healthy. That morning getting up was hard but once I got out of the bed it was easy. I drank a glass of water and ate a banana. Since it was winter, I also put on my gloves and a warm hat. With my bright blue shoes laced up, i left my house and the experience I had is the reason I wake up early to run everyday. Right off the bat during my run, it felt strange. There were no sounds of cars! It was oddly quiet except for a few birds chirping here and there. It felt really peaceful. There was a mild fog that made the scene even more interesting. Since it was winter the houses were decorated with Christmas lights as well

My right knee crashed into the humidifier, while my left fell into the ground. I looked at my injured knee, and rushed to the bathroom closet. I yanked open the door and rummaged for some Band-Aids.

When I broke my ankle that day I can remember just having this really sharp pain but I

In high school during a basketball game, an opposing player and I collided going after a loose ball. Somehow my hand got caught beneath her as we fell to the ground. Hopping to my feet I felt some pain in my hand, but assumed I just jammed a finger. The game was too close and there was no time to worry about an injury. When my coach saw I was favoring it, he called a timeout. When asked if I was okay, I responded “It hurts, but I think I just jammed a finger” and proceeded to tape it myself. Once done, I was back on the court, playing through the pain. My team suffered a heartbreaking defeat that night and hours later I learned that my season could be over. The emergency room physician instructed me to see an orthopedic surgeon, my hand was broken.