Personal Narrative: My Cross-American Race

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

Having the best two days of my life. Hanging out, watching horrifying movies, and spending time with some teammates before one of the biggest cross country races that exist tomorrow morning. Hundreds of people were going to attend this event to cheer on a family member. Even though this was three years ago and I came just to support some of Forest Park cross country runners.

The week before, Melin had announced his retirement at the track banquet. It was now the week after I had bawled my eyes out upon hearing this announcement. The week was spent laughing and making memories at practice preparing for the state meet. It was my last meet to be coached by such a significant person in my life.

The event that I am choosing to show my American Identity, is when President Obama got elected. I’m choosing this life event because, President Obama was our first African American to hold the office. Also President Obama was the first president born outside the continental United States. When I think of President Obama being the first African American president, I think that is amazing because, I would have never thought that he would win because of racism. I think that President Obama was a strong leader and was a great president and did a good job.

I stood at the top of the hill. It was Regional day. My team and I trained all year for that day. The sun was shining and the snow was crisp—just like the air. The wind was silent and allowed the clamor of the festivities to hang in the air undisturbed. I could hear everything. The chanting of names and times from the loudspeaker. The racers’ skis slicing into the snow. My favorite rhythmic clapping of shins on gates. Then, to my surprise, “Tylor Kistler, bib 156?” a pause, “racer may go when ready”. Oh no. If my mind wasn’t racing before, it was racing then. All my thoughts jumbled into a chaotic scream.

Only 1 lap, I thought as I crossed the line. I started moving faster. I could feel the little rubber bits on the track as I ran along. I ran around the last curve of the race.

At this meet, instead of a gun, they fire a cannon. The cannon fired and we were off. I felt super slow this meet. I was mad I thought I was going to get a worse time than Bob Schul again. I ran through the race passing people, letting the energy from the crowd keep me going because hearing someone yell for me when I’m running I feel so much better. Eventually I got down this small hill and I saw the finish line about 200 meters ahead. The clock was in the 17’s and I got really excited because for me, this was really good. I was sprinting as fast as my legs could go. I thought I was going to fall on my face because I couldn’t control my legs anymore. I ended up with a time of 18:08. A PR by a minute and a half, that would stand most of the season. No matter how slow I was, and how much my speed was made fun of at practice, I still got high-fives and congratulations after a meet. The rest of the meet was fun because we all hung out, waiting for the award and eating the really good buttered parmesan pasta. Greenville was not death, it was the best.

I come from a middle class background. My mother is a criminal defense attorney and my father is a neurosurgeon. I was fortunate enough to have parents who always provided everything that my siblings and I ever wanted or needed. However, my parents definitely put limitations on what all they would buy my siblings and I. For example, when I turned 16 I wanted a new car that cost around 30k. But, my parent’s thought that the car was too nice and too expensive for a 16-year-old girl to have. As a result, my parent’s ended up buying me a much cheaper car that only cost around 20k. Although I was annoyed that I couldn’t get the car that I wanted, I realized that I was lucky to have a car at all. I also feel fortunate that with the help of scholarships and my parent’s I’m able to pay for my college education. So, although I don’t come from a rich background I’m fortunate and thankful to not come from a poor background either.

After a quick glance at the image, the most prominent feature on my slowly-paling face is the black glasses that protrude from my slim face. Next-most prominent is my rather large nose and flowing light-brown hair, that frames my face and hides my ears. Combined, I am the epitome of a suburban Caucasian teen, where my northern European heritage continues to shine through generations of mixed ancestry and Americanization. But, my racial background allows any viewer to develop a myriad of correctly, and sometimes incorrectly, drawn conclusions. The photo allows the viewer to define me by stereotypes ingratiated in society. Knowing no background on this photo, I am surmised by my mundane appearance, clothing, and racial identity as a normal white

When I crossed the finish line, I saw my time and started to feel depressed because I ran my worst race of the season. My family came rushing up to congratulate me on my great race, but I was too frustrated that I could not feel any happiness about my whole season. When I said my good-bye’s, I went over to my tent and talked with my coach.

Moesha explained to me how she wanted this win more than anything. Gabe who was the oldest on our relay team said to me “Lisha how could you let that happen you know how bad we wanted to win that.” I could not say any words because they were talking at me like they were auctioneers who were placing a bid on a car. Tradeshia the person who never cries she was sucking her teeth and bouncing her leg with her arms folded she had

This is my absolute favorite race because it is only about 13 seconds until it is over. All the long and hard practices were for this moment right here right now. As I get into my blocks I stare at the finish line praying that I make it in the top 5. At this moment all the sounds around me slowly fade out and everything slows down as I focus on what needs to be done. I get into my blocks, put my head down and take a deep breath. When the gun goes off I'm first out of my blocks and I am maintaining the lead. As we come to the finish line I am almost tied for 5th place. We finish and I was sure that I beat her. We waited for what seemed like hours for the times to show up on the scoreboard. As I'm looking at the 5th place winner I see that my name is not there and that I lost by .01

It was my first height of the day. The air was a little chilly, slight breeze, and my heart wouldn’t stop beating out of my chest. This was the year I had to prove to my team, my parents, and myself that all my hard work had payed off to earn the number one spot at Track & Field state. Being the shortest girl there no one thought I could or would high jump in the height I had entered and won with. I looked around and saw so many girls that were ready to go. Many girls that had their family there and were ready to walk away with points. I doubted myself looking around and was scared to jump. I knew that I had the ability to be at state but I constantly asked myself do I deserve to be here?

Even though I was not running that day of the big 2017 Stockbridge Invitational, I had butterflies in my stomach. I was probably just about as nervous as the others on my team.

I listened to my tennis-shoe-clad feet hitting the track. Smack! Smack! “C’mon Brody! My coach shouted. “finish strong!” I was on my last interval and I knew my legs were shaking. We had probably run ten miles today and my body knew it. But when I run long distances, I just repeat this mantra my coach had told me and the team. We chanted it before every meet. “One step, one stride, one lap at a time” I finished my last lap, and sat down and pulled off my shoes. I had had a great day at school. I got this test back, and I aced it. My friends had been funny, the teachers had been nice, and I had almost gotten a new personal record in track. I was walking home with my best friend Margo. She was my neighbor, almost-sister, and I had known her since I was two. When I turned the corner onto my block and saw my dad on the porch, I knew it was going to be a long night. He already had a beer in his hand, and it definitely wouldn’t be his last before the night was up. “Hey Kat! ” he slurred, struggling to enunciate his words. I ignored him and walked up to my bedroom. I needed to do my homework, eat a big dinner, and then go to bed. It was the big quarter-final meet tomorrow and I needed to be on my best game. I had run five miles that day in track and I was pooped.