Personal Narrative: Is It Worth The Best Place To Win?

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

I soon snapped out of this state, hastily trying to stretch my muscles, which were cramping because I was so anxious. I heard the announcer yell “Ready, Set, Go!” followed by the pop of the starting pistol. Startled I took off running as fast as I could momentary forgetting to pace myself. I knew I would run out of energy if I didn’t do something to correct myself, so I slowed down and matched my breath to my steps. This way I could get an adequate amount of air into my lungs for aerobic respiration. By doing this I cruised through the first mile of the

I led a few stretches, ran a few warmup laps, and headed up to the stands. With my parents and teammates beside me, I felt ready to go, until my race was called. Then my heart dropped and the pressure of not false-starting, successfully passing the baton, and running faster than I ever have fell on me. My Coach led the three other runners and me down a tunnel to the track. Then we are placed in order by heat and leg

Greater lawrence, pass him, Sprint. So i finish on the floor dying couldn’t breath properly so i deep breaths and needed water my mouth was dry. After the race was over needed time to process like what happen in the beginning i knew we’re going to face greater lowell next week needed to be prepared for the time being. I needed to fix on my start so i don’t have to be the hero. I need to work on is my breathing it didn’t go so well and how to keep a pace with someone so i won’t lose the guy and cost the team some points if i do that well i’m gold. I needed to workout my legs so they won’t hurt during in races. The most important i have to do is keep my body calm and mind during the race next week. I knew in my next race it’s not all about having speed and it was mostly having a good mentality. So i work on a one week later race against greater lowell again i have done better which i did before at least i had the knowledge of the course to back that up it was a great

My throat was parched instantly. Knowing that I had to stay with Shelby. Repetitively telling myself that I could do it, I have to. Once I arrived at the mile mark before I knew it. I was searching all over but I could not see Shelby. Second guessing that she was ahead of me, I worked even harder. The wind was strong and the air was dirty. For a minute I was thinking that I could not do it; however, I changed that thought quickly after I saw the finish line. Pushing the hardest I had ever pushed. Noticing that I had made it, I placed 81st in

The flags are in sight and off on a wild sprint! I’m going and across the line I am! Exhausted but satisfied. I thought I saw my time was 28 minutes. I had to know the seconds. ( Yes, every second counts.) I was preparing myself mentally for what my time would be. I was eager to know. I ran to my Coach as soon as he was in sight. I ran to him and I immediately asked for my times. He told me and I had to see for myself. 28:04. 28:04!! I was excited! I can’t remember if I jumped up and down or not. Wouldn't be surprising. One thing I did for sure was, walked away and cried. Not only was it 28:04. It was my heart's desire. Coming close to the end of the season, I couldn’t see myself running a varsity time. So the lowest time I hoped I’d get would be 28 and it was!!

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,

The announcer was counting down and all I could think to myself was, “Please don’t die.” Standing dead smack in the centre of a herd of men and women, all of which were whooping and hollering anticipating the starting pistol to go off. Yet, there I was, praying that my 3 months of training wasn’t going to let me down. 5 seconds to go; and there was no turning back, what laid ahead for all of us was 11 miles and 21 obstacles that were designed to test one’s mental and physical tenacity. It wasn’t a competition; it was a trial. “Here we go!” my best friend Aaron declares sportively with a nudge as the pistol goes off, and our Braveheart charge was underway.

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

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)

When we get to Freeman I get shown the course because I was gone for two weeks and didn’t get to race here yet. Then, I wait a while and run around saying “hi” to everyone before my race starts. After that, he calls people to the starting line and says “go!” I run very hard in the start but then start dying out but manage to keep up and then I get in 9th place or something close to that. Finally, I sit down and I am exhausted I ran so hard.

I can still clearly remember that I was really tired after I ran the first 400-meter. Suddenly, It was a strange type of pain in the lower left side of my abdomino, which was like something is slowly and softly biting your organ, but I did not choose to stop because I have a crazy desire for that first place. Therefore, without thinking too much, I held both of my hands into fist and insert my fingernails to my palm in order to stimulus my nervous. It was the pain in my palm that carried me through that race, and I was the first place in the end. Nonetheless, when I turned around and faced everyone who was behind me, I was quite depressed. It was obvious that the high school members had the ability to sprint in the last 100-meter, but they did not. No one took the race seriously except me. I knew I might look silly and funny to them since I

and the vastly overpowering “Bang” of the gun cut off my dialogue, as well as sending me and the other runners dashing to the finish line. I took a different approach to running this relatively small 200 meter distance than I did in my previous race. Instead of a slow start and building up to a sprint, I took off as fast as a cheetah. As I turned around the large corner, I see another runner quickly closing in on my location. I concentrated what little energy I had left into winning this race. However, my efforts were not enough to overcome the other runner, and I bolted across the finish line with 2nd place.

I have my relay team ready, we walk to all our spots, lay our marks down and the race will be starting soon. I’m on the other side of the track, in position, ready to go. Gun goes off and only some seconds later the first handoff is made. It comes to my hand off, I go when my teammate hits the tape mark. I receive the baton and take off to the final hand off. I hit the mark, and she goes. Both of us in the zone, I say “stick”, and her hand shoots back. She grips the baton and rips it from my hand. She goes the last stretch of the race and finishes. We take first by about 10 meters. It was still the best race we have ever ran.

After that race, I went to the bleachers to change my shoes and put my sweats back on even though it was around 80 degrees that day I still need to stay loose and warm because the most important race that day was soon approaching. There was still a lot of time left in the day which meant a lot of races before the 200 hurdles. While waiting I sat and looked over the rankings on my phone multiple times trying to mentally prepare myself. In the hurdles, i was ranked 4th but that didn’t matter much to me because this was my race and I planned on winning. As it got later in the day it got closer to my event.