Personal Narrative: Becoming A Runner

that I can be happy at and if running track in college is a good idea and when I realize what the best thing to do then I will decide but until that time comes I wait and research and think about what I could do to my life to have a smile on my face everyday and having the life that is worthwhile. I love running track with a passion I know that because when I'm on the line about to push off the blocks the feeling I have in my stomach is like faith telling me and all I think about is run run run and saying repeatedly “I can do it”, then when that gunshot goes off I go, I run my heart out and I don't stop until I win and go for the best of my

Growing up, both my brother and I were very involved in athletics; from baseball/softball to basketball to football to track and volleyball. A competitive spirit was instilled in my life at a early age. As I got older, I focused mainly on softball; competing around the country in hopes of gaining a college scholarship. Sadly, the summer before my junior year I tore my rotator cuff and labrum in my shoulder and messed up multiple muscles throughout my arm and back. Therefore, my softball career came to an end.

In elementary school I had stopped playing soccer because I hated running and I was unwilling to play any other sport my parents would ask me to try. Basketball and baseball seemed to have too many rules and were too complicated for me. At the end of the school year we would always get a flyer to join the Haymaker Swim Team. I hated this flyer because my mom would ask me every year to join the team and every year I said no. I was too nervous and unsure about joining a team with new people and experiences.

Cross country is a sport for the dreamers. This fact becomes abundantly clear once setting foot out on the course. The atmosphere created by this determination and drive is palpable. A defining difference that separates cross country from other team sports is the lack of ill will towards other teams, rivalries are present but they provide for a greater sense of competition between schools. When looking up sportsmanship in the dictionary it says “refer to cross country”. What creates such a friendly environment that many other sports seem to lack? It all goes back to the shared goal, to finish.

Although, I felt that quitting baseball was not the finish to my journey. This was the start of high school, with new opportunities staring at my face. Still passionate about sports, I anticipated finding another that intrigued me. At lunch one day, I told my friend about quitting baseball and how I wanted to try something new. I profoundly reminisce him saying, “If you want a challenge, come run track with me.” My knowlege of track wasn’t immense, but I knew that running was something I craved to do more of. Therefore, I needed execute this challenge for myself. After all of the years of playing baseball because of the expectations I thought were on me, I stepped out of my comfort

All throughout history people have been made to feel less than because the color of their skin. I encountered this all throughout high school running track. Track consists mainly of African Americans while a small portion consists of Caucasians for sprinting and field events. My high school coach was named Coach Lucas and he was African American. He constantly told me I wouldn’t be able to do well or that I should find a different sport because track is not a white woman’s sport. He also degraded me when I would do well at track meets by always saying I won because I got lucky and the other kids just had a bad day running.

As the sun’s nutritious rays fuel my body; sweat races down my back and accumulates into the threads of my cotton t-shirt. I peer over my neighborhood park fence and gaze over the spacious scenery. The track field was well in shape, free of small debris and ready for a test run and light jump activities in the sand-pit. Soon enough the high temperature fills my head, leaving me in a state of allusion. Images of my friends and I sporadically unfold in front of me and unto the track; as if being placed in a desert mirage. I feel a sense of peace and eagerness surge through my body, while the images continue to appear. Then, a whisper comes into the mix saying some sort of gibberish. Stepping a bit more cautiously then I regularly would I walked

We went into the doctor's office and it turns how that I have a rare bone disease. Osteochondral disease which is where blood doesn’t get to all my bones and they break. I went in for an MRI and I fractured my femur bone. They explained what the treatments were and it was surgery go figure! It wasn’t going to be a huge surgery well not this one at least. I ended up going through four surgeries in one year. My sports career ended my sophomore year. I ended up sitting on the bench my junior year and moving on my senior year. I am still going through physical therapy for a full year. It has taught me that when life gets hard you have to keep pushing through. My surgeries have made me a stronger person and now I know that know matter what life throws at you you just have to get right back up and keep pushing

To say that I've invested myself into the sport of Track and Field would be a gross understatement. I indulged myself in an almost cultic workout routine for what encompassed the majority of my sophomore years summer. I poured my blood, sweat, and tears into my training for one of my most anticipated seasons of Track and Field yet. With my regiment beginning at 10:00am and ending at 3:00pm everyday for almost 5 months, I felt more invested in it then anything else I had ever endeavoured on in my life. Needless to say, by the time the beginning of the season finally rolled around, I felt more prepared than ever to tackle the lengthy and vexatious sport.

Mind racing, head throbbing, and voices screaming in my head. Millions of thoughts that won't stop even in bed. Voices shouting “ IT CAN GET WORSE.”

Growing up, my father always pushed me to do sports. First it started off with soccer, then baseball, a little bit of basketball, and ended with football. I did not understand the competitive and physical benefits at the time but I was still very much interested. Soccer was always a fun sport as a child, aimlessly running around with a ball between my feet. On a couple occasions I happened to get hit in the face with a ball, which developed a disinterest for the sport in six-year old me. Baseball became a big sport for me most of my life, until I was struck at the batter’s mound hard, in my side, by a baseball. I was too afraid to ever go up to bat again. Football, the prime jewel of American sports, was the one thing I played from the second grade to freshman year of high school. I was always too chubby, too slow, to pursue a larger role on the team such as quarterback, or wide receiver, even linebacker, so I was stuck to the offensive line.

Half marathons are a blast—from the cheering spectators, fellow runners during the race and the runner’s high, free food and massage that follows the race—it’s an awesome experience. Of course there is the ugly side: the chafing, the nasty Johns near the end of the course, and the disappointment when discovering that you ran, but not the full 13.1 miles (21 K) that you signed up for. For me, that moment came after my first official half marathon race; nevertheless, it was a good foundational experience for me to build on as a recreational athlete.

ter we had. The snow had been so high that leaving the house just to go to town for the basics was near impossible. Music blasting in my ears as I pushed myself to run one more mile. “Just one more, just one more” I told myself. Sweat ran along my spine and dripped from my chin, my chest heave as i sucked in every breath. In through the nose out through the mouth. “push,push PUSH” I said to myself. Running was my way of relaxing a release of all of the toxic build up inside of me. I always went alone, it was better that way I had no one to keep up with and no one to keep up with me. I was free. Vibrations on my wrist made me slow to a walk I had been running for an hour and it was time to head back home. Home the place that I shared with

In second year, I joined the school field-hockey team and regretted it soon after. I thought calculus could give migraines but field hockey placed that pain everywhere. I was totally out of place and thought of quitting regularly.

I remember the game winning point in Van Horn Iowa. We Bump, Set, Hit.... It was a kill!. The crowd goes viral. It's 2016 and the Sailor Nation 7th graders are on there way to state!