Personal Narrative: Fighting Fatigue

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)

I go to the grass by where we will line up for the race and I put my spikes on. Making sure every spike is tight; I double knot the laces and stand up. Now my stomach really hurts. The nerves of a runner before a race are one of the worst things to handle. The announcer puts me in line and I take a deep breath once it’s my time to go up to the blocks. I set up my blocks for my standards and take off my sweats. The breeze hits my thighs as my tank top flows from side to side. The sun wishes me good luck just before I start my race. I slightly shake as the announcer tells us, “Runners to your mark!” and I get down. Shaking more vigorously now, my heart is pounding in my chest. It seems like hours waiting for him to yell, “Get set!” “Go!” but once he does I know it’s go time. I push off my blocks, and I run as fast as I can. I can feel my legs moving together in motion as the balls of my feet dig into the track. My spikes are doing their job in helping me grip to the surface as I make my way to the finish line. Neck and neck with the girl next to me I hope she gets winded out near the end and slows down so I can just scarcely make it past her. I feel like I am running as fast as a horse. Crossing that finish line and coming to a slow stop, I breathe heavily as I exhale in relief of being over. I did it, I’m done… and I did well. My legs raw, I get off the track. (AB) Some fellow sprinters congratulate me as I do the same to them. That is what’s nice about track, it seems like most of the people are very friendly. They have no problem congratulating you or talking to you about how nervous they are before a race. We know we are all in the same boat and all we want is to succeed. Every blue moon a distance runner will congratulate a sprinter but I don’t think it has ever happened to me. I don’t know if they are just caught up in their own world or if they are just being stingy about the whole

Breathing heavily, a million things run through my mind. I’m dying. I can’t feel my feet. My lungs aren’t taking in oxygen fast enough. However, the finish line and the satisfaction of knowing that I had gotten myself through three miles loom ahead. Clenching my fists, I force myself through the indoor track at JCC. The excitement and pride that I feel when I finally achieve my goal is indescribable.

Each step was more difficult than the last, my breathing became a fast-paced panting, my legs reluctant maintain my long stride. Doubts settled themselves in my mind, reminding me that I had never run long distance before, taunting me as I willed my legs to keep going. I had set out to own my run, but now I couldn’t bear the thought of enduring the rest of my last mile and a half.

I ran back up the hill to our camp, trying to move quickly without wasting too much energy, took my inhaler, and rushed back down the hill. Soon, it was time for the race to start. The officials gave an overview of information about the race and how it would start. The official behind us blew a long whistle. We stood, motionless, just waiting for that starting gunshot. Pow! The race was off. I sprinted out of the pack. I tried to find a good pace and settle in. We ran up a few hills, and then we made it to the first entrance to the creek. Unintelligently, I didn’t slow down very much going into the creek. Because I didn’t slow down, I splashed into the creek with a belly flop, almost submerging my whole body underwater. I got up quickly, then began to climb up the mud wall. I clawed at that wall like it was my enemy. I avoided the rope, even though it actually wasn’t that busy at the moment. I was too focused to switch strategies. We continued to run on, passing many fans, their cheers a chaotic blur. We passed through the second part of the creek, which was not nearly as deep. It was only about mid-shin to knee level, so I made my way through just fine. We ran all over the vineyard. I wasn’t feeling too awful. I was just caught up in the thrill of the race! We made it to the cornfields, and there were lots of small hills. I ran through them staring at the ground, and I kept seeing the same pair of shoes. For some strange reason, I kept staring at those shoes. People do crazy things when they run, you could say! Anyways, I passed the person wearing those shoes. We ran away from the corn fields and under a bridge. I was coming closer and closer to the finish. I was struggling to continue, but I would not quit! I pushed through the pain, but by the end of the race, I was just done. I saw the final hill in front of me. It was one of the biggest hills on the course, if not the biggest, and it was definitely the most difficult after

Right on pace. I took a glance behind me just to see 3 or 4 runners right on my tail. I imagined them as a hungry pack of wolves chasing a rabbit. Except I was the rabbit. I started to pick up the pace until I saw the home stretch. The freezing cold wind was starting to get to me. I couldn't feel my hands, even though I had gloves on. The only obstacle standing between me and about 6 runners ahead of me was a gigantic hill. I charged up it,

Sweat dripping from your chin, oxygen hard to find, legs feeling numb, eyesight blurred, dizziness setting in, coaches going crazy with words of encouragement and the finish line is only a few feet away. The final stretch is here and all you have to do is catch up to the kid running inches in front of you. You feel like every breath is your last, as your stride gets you that much closer to your opponent. Running out of space, moving legs at turbo speed and doing all you can to catch that kid. Your stomach feels as though as it is on fire, as you get a step the kid. Now you have to pass him and maintain your distance. You can hear the parents screaming your name, motivating you to run even faster. Now the finish is right there, with the adrenaline keeping you going you push yourself through the finish line. Once you pass it you can feel nothing, but your heart pounding like a drum against your chest. You can taste the lactic acid in your mouth, hear the ringing in your ears, see the blur of parents walking up to congratulate you on your efforts. You have done it, you have completed a cross country race.

“Good Job keep going, you can do it, run run faster, you got this!” These were the words coming from the audience as I was finishing my last 100 meters in the cold, pouring, rain during sectionals. I was in second place in my heat and my heart was thumping and I couldn't see through the water stains on my glasses, but I heard someone someone breathing hard and their spikes hitting the track as they ran behind me and I knew I had to push even harder.I remembered the rough trading I had in practice and knew I could do it.

The coach made us run extra harder, which many people did not enjoy. I ran thinking, if I run hard enough, I will run the greatest 2-mile, the distance we have to run in the league finals, I have ever ran. We would run intervals, 1 lap, 2 laps, 3 laps, 4 laps, and vice versa. We would also run up and down stairs and run track laps until we felt like puking. The week passed by fast as we practiced, and the league finals was just up ahead now. The weekend before the meet, wasn’t much, but for most of the weekend, I had butterflies in my stomach multiplying every second the meet got closer. My dad told me not to worry, which I thought was silly, because this was a huge meet. I got a lot of rest sleeping, and finally, the day had come. The day of the cross country league

I am a runner. One who strives for greatness at every moment and doesn’t give in when things get tough. I have aspirations, dreams, and goals which I will stop at nothing to achieve. Unfortunately for me, the life of a runner is filled with challenges and setbacks and only the best will learn to push through the adversity. My defining moment was the summer before my Junior year, 2016. I had set the goal of becoming All-State in Cross Country, meaning placing in the top 25 of all the runners in the state meet. This is, of course, a prestigious title to have, but I had faith in myself. For the first time in my life, I finally understood that preparation is key and if I fail to prepare, I should prepare to fail

Suddenly, with no warning, two runners of the grade below me pulled ahead. I couldn’t believe it! They were a year younger than me, yet they were faster. However, I knew I wouldn’t be able to catch up even at my best. As I neared the 100 meter line, I started to convert into a jogging pace and got my bearings. I allowed myself to breathe again and relax but still trying to run my best. I was in 3rd place with the two kids in front of me about 50 meters away. I cleared my mind and just concentrated on breathing; taking a deep breath in through my nose, and letting it all out of my mouth. I was starting to feel the fatigue in my muscles and my legs are crying for rest, but I refused. I started hearing heavy breathing noises and loud footsteps behind me, steadily catching up. I risked a peek to my left and was horrified and yet surprised that my chubby classmate was right on my heels. I was not going to be beaten again and into 4th place. I pushed myself harder and pumped my legs and arms with renewed energy. All my blood rushed to my head and I felt like a locomotive cutting through the cold air. As we ran around the bend, we were head to head and trying to outdo each other. He

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.

My feet pounded on the uneven ground, each step increasingly difficult. My breath was loud, uneven to my ears. I could see the girl in front of me, her brightly colored uniform becoming smaller as she pulled ahead. It was now or never; if I did not surge now, there was no chance of making it. I took a deep breath and increased my pace, running harder than I ever had before. But it wasn’t enough. I crossed the finish line, grabbing a tree as I struggled to stand, and look at the timer. With a time of 21:42 for the girls varsity 5k race, I knew I had missed my goal, and my season was over.

By the time we had run to the hospital at our practice, I felt like I was going to die. My legs were as tired as a sloth. I had never been so tired in my life. I had an awful cramps that wasn't going away, and I felt like I was going to lose my lunch. I wanted to walk so badly. To help myself keep going I kept saying the following sentence in my head, “I will not stop, I will keep running, I will push myself as far as I can go.” With my ponytail waving in the wind, I kept going. When we got back to the school. I was exhausted and glad to be finished the run. If that was how hard we were going to go at all of our practices, I didn't know if I could do it. The cross country coach Mrs. Wrigley told me I should give it to weeks and I will start to notice a difference when I run, so I decided to keep going to the practices. I had set a goal for myself to continue to go to the practises for the next two weeks. It was hard but I persevered and push through

Every step strained my burning muscles. I gasped for air as I sprinted down to the finish line. Sweat dripped down my face in the ninety degree heat. My eyes fixated on the runner in front of me. I leaped in front of her just as we passed the finish line, but all I could think of at that moment was, “Why am I doing this?”