Personal Narrative Experience : A Personal Experience In High School

A man with a deep and raspy voice stated over the loud speaker that “Matthew Kosednar should report to the scales and see a mat coordinator”. There was no turning back. This was it. I swallowed any bit of fear inside me, for what might be my last chance to do so. I stood on the scale and was given the all clear. Making my way to the mats, I would endure the longest five minutes of my life. Finally, a mat was available for my opponent and I. Oh wait! My opponent. I glanced to my right and he had just made it off the scale. One of the largest men I had seen in my entire life stepped forward. A man of seventeen years of age, with remnants of a beard and washboard abs, stepped forward. I tried to stay positive. I told myself that I got this, that I could do

A popular saying around every gym, field, track, and weight room is that it, no matter what activity “it” is that a sportsman is participating in, is ten percent physical and ninety percent mental. For the kids who hear this daily, it is nothing more than a hollow statement a coach says to make them feel better about being physically subordinate to their opponents. I have heard this mantra throughout my life on the baseball field, football field, track, gymnasium, in the weight room, and on the wrestling mat. Just like those poor aforementioned kids being yelled at by their coach, this statement just bounced off me, never finding a sticking place among all my doubt and insecurity. Nowhere was this more true that on the wrestling mat; Coach Jaimez has told my teammates and I this countless times, and not once throughout my first four years of wrestling did this ever sink in. I am ashamed of this, as those athletes in the know, whether they be in High School or draped in their nation’s flag competing for a gold medal, know that this statement could not be more true for the sport of wrestling. Wrestling is a mental sport that is determined by a competitor’s decision to focus on himself rather than his opponent and the competitor’s confidence in himself and his potential to succeed.

My coach came over and told me I got this then I looked over into the crowds seeing all of the fans. I thought to myself this has to be the biggest turnout we have ever had. It was too many to count, you couldn't even hear what the parents were screaming it was all just a big blurb of sound. Normally that sound would be annoying but for some reason it sounds great during wrestling. The match before mine was almost over; even though it was my teammate wrestling I knew my main priority was my match not his.Now I have to win I thought in my head.. Coach came up to me and we did our little pre match ritual. He shakes my left arm then my right, he cracks my back, then he slaps my legs and are and head to get me pumped. The whole team lines up to form a little tunnel for when you run out. Then there it came, "And wrestling for central, LARS REEDER!" I sprinted and stepped on the line. This is

My last name was shouted from my left and my body immediately cascaded from the bench to the bright sideline. The man in the striped shirt waved me over from the other side of the elongated field. This was my chance, all the sweat and tears from preseason would finally pay off. My hand slapped my team mate that I subbed in for, everything became

"Once you’ve wrestled everything else in life is easy" - Dan Gable. Ever since I was in middle school I have would always walk by this unusually foggy room where there would be many guys grappling with their opponents as they ran out of breath and still would still have the energy for the finishing takedown. The amount of heat coming from that room was not because it was 98 degrees outside, it was build out of sweat and hard drilling. During my Junior year, I decided to be a part of the wrestling team for the weight class of 99. On the first day of tryouts I was the only girl there, my legs shivered as I entered the room. Deep down I knew I had to work hard in order to be respected and taken seriously in the team.

Later on in the school day when I was in weight training class the teacher, Coach Rice, who was also the wrestling coach called me over to talk because he had seen

I started off young when I began to like wrestling. I would wrestle with my giant doll of the WWE wrestler Randy Savage. My parents would see me all around the house wrestling with that doll, and everyday they knew I was going to wrestle. As soon as middle school cam along I joined, I wasn’t the best in those years but I still tried my hardest. Then highschool came along, my skill from middle to high school grew tremendously. In 2006, I graduated with three district Championships and two regional Championship titles.

As a member of the wrestling team, I developed the physical toughness to become a member of the U.S. armed services. There, I learned what hard work was. After running as a team for miles on end, we moved to the mats to work on individual technique. We wrestled and struggled till we couldn't move. It was more about outlasting the other guy for six minutes straight in a true match, therefore the guy most in shape won. When the coach

Wrestling was a sport I had no interest in, and I only tried out, because my coach recommended that I’d give it a shot. I never would of thought on my seventeenth birthday that I’d be wrestling for the conference championship. Reagan Fedowitz from Union Pines was my opponent, who placed fifth in the state tournament the year before. The tournament was held at Union Pines, so majority of the crowd were fans of Reagan. A announcer calls my name to come check in at the table, and I immediately become nervous. Although I was nervous, I used this as an advantage to become motivated for the match.

If I didn’t like it, then I didn’t have to continue. I tied a knot in my rope, and tried my best to hold on. I stood at the bar for months with straight knees, and my back in the straightest line I could manage. I stretched every day. I tried my best in class because I didn’t want them to tell me that I wasn’t good enough. We had extra classes to prepare us, and we had excersizes that we had to do at home. I did them all the time. I could tell I was getting better. I was getting so much stronger. My leg was getting higher every day.Then we received another

I prepared to put it all on the line in the last match of my youth wrestling career; state finals. Opening ceremonies started one of the biggest moments of my life. The announcer ran through all the names of each wrestler who had worked all day to make it into the championship. Trotting out to the middle of the mat, each athlete shook their opponent's hand and back to the tunnel they went. I reminded myself this was only half my goal as I ran out. I was not meeting my opponent for the first time. I grasped his hand in a way that said "so we meet again". We wrestled in tight matches previous that had not fallen my way, but I was going to make sure the outcome was different as I hustled back to the tunnel. I anxiously waited for what felt like days. Eventually, it was my opportunity to take matters into my own hands. I knew this was when all the endless effort, countless hours, and extreme hardwork would pay off.

This year, as a freshman, I decided to try out for a sport. I heard about field hockey and I was instantaneously intrigued. I asked some friends when was conditioning and went to the first one. There was only one other freshman at conditioning and so many upperclassmen. I was absolutely terrified because I didn't know anyone (except the other freshman, but I didn't even know her that well.) They were much older than me and very intimidating. I feared the upperclassmen due to thinking that I could never compete with them. Nevertheless, I came to every conditioning I could. I met some of the older girls and made a bunch of friends. I heard one of the other girls were talking about captains practice, so I bought a stick and went to the first practice.

A brief celebration occurred that was filled with handshakes, pats on the back, and improvement speeches. Shortly after the celebration was over and I began to get ready for the next match. I walked past each mat one by one to reach my rejuvenation corner when something caught my ear like a fish on a hook.

I was dedicated, I went to tournaments on the weekends and Wrestled for the school on weekdays. Between the pools of sweat and fresh scratches we were going hard in the practice room and it payed off on the mat. During my battles in school i lost my only loss of the year and that weekend i went into the tournament fired up but not knowing the person i lost the battle to was there and my first match. I stepped onto the mat with my nerves making me shake like a leaf and adrenaline rushing like a river. I take him down and we hand fight i grab his head and headlock him tak him down again and pin him and getting my hand raised felt better than anything else in the

The cold air rushes around my upward thrust hand, down my still quivering and drenched arm, and into my crimson-colored face. The sea of red before me cheers and hollers at the victory I barely managed to wring out of my equally exhausted competition. The referee releases my hand and it clunks back into its place by my heaving side. Fiddling with my disheveled singlet, I stumble over to the judges table and snatch up the small piece of paper that solidifies my place in the next round of the Holy Angels Wrestling Tournament.