Personal Narrative Essay

I refused to ever let someone replace me on the track again. Not only did I earn that respect, I demanded it. My workouts were no longer a social hour, but a boot camp. I was the hardest working undersized athlete in the program. My junior track season finally arrived, yet once again I would not have the chance to compete for a junior varsity district championship. No, this year I competed for a varsity district championship. My efforts in the offseason led to a promotion on the team. The lingering emotions of anger and disappointment were replaced with gleaming pride. My previous failure had propelled me to success within a single

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

I then quickly began to consider failure, but I knew that was not an option. So I gathered my three other teammates who would perform in the race with me to pray and breathe. Soon enough the first leg of the relay stepped on the starting line. Following with the official finally speaking into the intercom, “On your marks, get set.” At that moment, I took a deep breath and said to myself “I just have to go!” “Set!” and then the gun fired. The first leg on my relay shot out of the blocks instantly, in a way I had never seen her do before. First hand off, second hand off, then it was finally my turn. As I took my place on the track, I stood on my tiptoes and waited on third leg to close the gap between us. 10 meters, 5 meters, I said to myself as she approached me for the hand off. “Rocks!” she screamed, as the signal for me to reach back for the baton during my take off. After I snatched the baton my knee drive lifted, while making sure my arms were exactly ninety degrees, from my cheek to cheek. During the first 200 of my 400-meter race, two other fourth leg runners, from opposing teams stayed right in front of me. After 10 meters, I finally passed one, and then I began to feel quite fatigued. My legs felt like seventy-five pound dumbbell weights and my arms felt weak. Therefore, I started to feel as if I was not going to make it and settle for second place with 100

I approached the starting line,with sweaty palms, and a shaky breath. I shot one of my teammates a nervous glance, and she returned the look back. I looked away and took a deep breath in. “The mile,” I thought to myself, 1600 meters, 28 girls; numbers started to whizz around my head, a platform I was much more comfortable with. I shook away all my worries, and raised my head, after realizing I had been staring down at the dark black asphalt ground of the track. I saw my coach, Mrs.Roberts, smiling and giving signs of encouragement to my team.

Early August of 2015, I meticulously began organizing my initiation into high school athletics’ most notorious sport: Cross. Country. Little did I know this very decision— was going to be the beginning of my demise— and my very own death note (for the readers who appreciate euphemisms).

It was my Grandpa Buck his story changed his life. It was one beautiful afternoon my grandpa decided to go to the Drunken Bar and Grill after he was done with worked. He was going to meet his friend Peter there. They had a hamburger and some cold beer. After he was done at the Drunken Dar and Grill he went to another bar. He had some more beer and he got drunk and he had to call my grandma Judy to have her come pick him up. Then my grandpa decided that it was fun to go and party with his friends every Friday night. Then he said very quiet

My passion for track and field began when I was ten. In the local newspaper, a Nike advertisement commemorated my hometown’s late Olympic running hero, Steve “Pre” Prefontaine. Inspirational copy overlaid his printed image; from small town Oregon roots, his gutsy racing style and fearless attitude propelled him into a world-class athlete. Concluding, it asked, “Where is the next Pre?” Emphatically, I told myself I was the next Pre, and then tore off for my first run through the streets of Eugene, Oregon.

Standing on the starting line, heart was pounding, nerves were running, expectations were high, the sound of the gun could not have come any quicker. Waiting in the blazing sun, I could feel the sweat dripping down my face. Time felt like it was at a standstill, just then, boom! The race was underway on this four lap journey around the track. Silence surrounded me as I ran in a sold out stadium, my thoughts drowned out the coaches and spectators. The speech my coach gave me before the race was on constant replay in my head. “This is your time. You will be district champ. There is no one standing in the way of you and your dreams, except yourself.” When I came around the turn, I could see my team in the stands cheering me on. There was pure joy on their faces as I took the lead and began to take off for the last lap. There was half a lap to go when the race took a turn for the worst. My stomach began to turn in knots, my breathing was getting heavier, and my strides were shortening. I could sense my competitors coming up behind me, I knew that if I could not stay in front, I would lose. Eventually they caught up to me and I just tried to stay with them, however, I began to fade. I crossed the finish line in third place. I looked up and could see my coach with his head down in disappointment, I let him down. My season had come to an end that day, and I

Hello Mr. Garcia this is Sasha Arcaya id number 0039478 i was in the dance magnet and was going to be a 10th grader First i would like to ask to please hear me out. Around august 21 i switched schools to Southwest Miami senior high school and i deeply deeply deeply regret it. i dont belong in a school like that i am a very classy lady I DON'T act like most girls their, leaving MAS was the worst decision i have ever made in my life! I made my mother cry she hated southwest she thought that i was going to become a bad person. I had all of my friends at MAS when i started southwest the first day i got bulled really badly in mas i was at home. i honestly don't know why i left, i left for the JROTC program in southwest but is that really worth it?

“We will now do a few simple stretching exercises designed to remove tension and stress to help you relax.” “This exercise.” Sly said. “Is something you must practice every day.” “Put your hands on the table close them and make a fist.” Squeeze as tight as you can.” “Now tighten every muscle in your body, stomach, arms, legs, everything as tight as you can.” “Hold it for a count of ten release the tension very slow, very very slow.” “Now do it five more times.”

At the football game at Rosary High on Friday night, Chris was hanging out with his friends Tyler and Jack by the bathrooms. When the game was about to start, they all went to use the bathroom. As they were about to leave, a group of students came in and saw Jack washing his hands. One of the guys in the group named Cameron started pushing Jack between his friends and asking him “Hey fag, aren’t you in the wrong bathroom?”

Thursday March, and I was on my feet. Be that as it may, then I lost my foot. Stating it like this might confound, yet you will get it toward the end.

A. Something that has happened to me that I wish had not occurred was when I missed my Uncle’s wedding due to the stomach virus. My dad, my stepmom, and I had traveled all the way across our state to be there. We spent the night in a condo that my uncle and soon to be aunt had rented out for us. It was one of the nicest places I had ever stayed in. It seemed like it could be featured in a Pottery Barn magazine, it was so well decorated. I fell fast asleep knowing I had a big day ahead. My sweet dreams were interrupted by a terrible stomach ache. I vomited all night long. The next morning I woke up even worse off than I was the night before. I told myself I would push through since we had traveled all this way and I wanted to be there for

Carl worked hard everyday even through the rough time to have success in track and field. A little boy he took a tape measure and put it in his backyard wondering how could a person jump so far (AAseng, 1985). Even though he just a kid athlete have to work hard everyday and use what they got. Since he was eight he ran around playing with his family (“Carl Lewis,” 2017). As a matter of fact he would jump and play in sandpit (Jacobs, 2017). He spend long hour running in the yard and jumping around. Although his parents both were track coaches they build their own track club (Jacobs, 2017). Also they were Carl Lewis first coaches (Jacobs, 2017). Eventually this gave Carl Lewis lots of time to practice running and jumping. At first Carl Lewis would always lose one day he when up to his dad and said I am tired of losing (AAseng, 2017). His dad respond and say either work harder or quit (AAseng, 2017). Although he was always getting frustrated he never give up and work will hard be to good. This was start of Carl Lewis

Before Coach Bailey, I would travel to PE, stretch, listen to the teacher chat about health, play a game, and never consider it for the rest of the day, if ever. Coach Bailey helped discover the athlete that was hiding deep inside. He made PE come to life. I remember him cracking jokes and using hilarious voices to teach us about being healthy and the different fundamentals of fitness. He would create games that were beyond just basic tag or dodge-ball. I found myself daydreaming about fitness and PE all the time, counting the minutes until I was back in that gym. During Coach Bailey’s first year as our PE teacher, he coordinated the President’s Physical Fitness Challenge. This was a series of fitness challenges from push up’s and pull-up’s to a shuttle relay and flexibility test. As I was completing these challenges the competitor inside came to life. All I wanted to do was WIN!! I found myself trying as intense as I had ever tried before. I wound up earning first place in the shuttle relay and Coach Bailey encouraged me to join the track team. Being on the track team helped to develop my talents as a runner and brought out the athlete I never knew existed inside. I continued running track in middle school and high school and won a silver medal at the state track meet my junior year. My love for fitness still rings true in my class and at my school. Just