Personal Narrative On Track

When I started track and middle I never knew what track was or how it even worked but I needed a sport that I could do. Even though I would have people from my middle school who would try to discourage me from running and even call me slow and the process but I continue to go through with track. But those people that talk and say they were going stay and track but didn't and I stayed and continue running and learn how to use the words they called to me to discourage to fuel my running to where I was winning medals and showing it in school. Then between eight grade to tenth grade I begin to have problem with my hip and which cause me to slow my time down but I still stayed in the sport. Even switching from different high school was tiring

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

Though humiliated, I considered it to be better than running laps with the sprinters, so I continued to show up to practice and began to make timely progress. By the time of the first meet, I qualified to compete. That day, my performance was nothing short of embarrassing. Miraculously, I began to become competitive with the other jumpers at my school and in the district. My morale skyrocketed and reached its peak right before the district

One of the biggest transitions of my life was when I moved off to college. At home I have a very stable and supportive family system. They knew me better than anyone else and they held me accountable. I was not scared to move out and go away to college, I was more curious to see what this chapter of my life would bring. Getting away from the comfort of my family really made me take some time to focus on myself. This may attention assignment only furthered this journey of becoming more self aware.

“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.

“Elle! Elle!” I yell as I sprint down the sidewalk of our neighborhood. My long dark brown hair flowing behind me. “They are adding a track team to our school and the tryouts are next Monday!”I tell her once I finally catch up. I have wanted to be on a track team for as long as I can remember.

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

Hi iam Edgardo Flores i was born in casa grande, az not that far away from our state capital,Phoenix, Az.theres nothing better to do in a hot summer than going out with the friends to a lake and have a blast riding jet skis boats and my favorite, swimming!My activites of the day are shooting,riding horses,and my favorite one is quad riding.Thats right! ive been doing these fun exciting hobbies since i was 9 years old.pretty young huh?

I like to beat the rush for lines and do not prefer being late, but

Running stayed on my mind all throughout the day, it was what I loved to do. At the Yukon state track meet my heart was racing more than ever. I’ve trained all season for this meet hoping to place top 6 in the state. It was blazing hot outside with the wind pushing a little hard against us. Me and my team was up next to run the 4x400m against many other schools that were competing that day. As we lined up in order from first leg to anchor, listening to the referee position us on where to stand, we were all scared. The referee shot the gun and the first leg runners took off. When it was my turn to go, I nervously stepped onto the red 8 lane track.

There I was on the block next to the High Bar. It was about 5:00 at night when my coach told me to do a Kip. As I got up on the bar my nose filled with the smell of chalk. I started to swing, and as I came out of my half turn I looked good. Everything seemed fine but as I came to the part of the Kip where I have to pull my legs up to the bar, I slammed my shins into the bar. My momentum was stopped and I dropped on to the mat, missing the Kip. I felt like I had let down my coach and I had let down myself too. That day I experienced failure. That failure made me want my Kip even more so I worked harder and had support from my teammates.

It all started with the training I put in during the off season. Track is something I have always liked and been good at, but before last year, I had never put in the time to be good. After freshman year, I was not where I wanted to be and I was disappointed with how I did at state. Last fall I decided to start

It was the afternoon of the Tri-County League Championship, or, as Coach Harkins called it, TCLs. Despite the usual mixture of sweat, puke, and sulfur in the air of Reggie Lewis Track and Athletic Center, there was an air of exhilaration. Everyone was excited because we got to leave school at 12:45 and we had practiced all week on the new track for this. My event, the 55 meter dash, was one of the first events. As I was warming up with the other sprinter on my team, I couldn’t help but feel nervous. That day was my last chance to qualify for states, and I needed to shave almost a tenth of a second off of my time.

It was a sunny bright Friday afternoon and I was at school. I knew today was going to be the day, the day I get my new bike. After school my dad picked me up and drove home, so I can change out of my uniform and grab something to eat. I remembered my stomach feeling strange, I was so excited getting my new bike that I couldn't even eat. We went back in the car to go to Kmart. Even though Kmart was only like five minutes, it felt like I was in the car forever. I remember I was thinking of all the features my new bike was going to have.

I began running hurdles in track when I was in 6th grade. Before then, I had no experience with hurdles and I only decided to attempt it after my mother insisted I try. As fate would have it, I was a natural at hurdles. I already ran fast; now, I would just have to master hurdling over the object in my way. At the final track meet of my first year, I achieved first place in my hurdles race. This was my start of what would be a winning streak. The next school year, in every hurdling race I ran, I placed within the top six runners. My 8th grade year, I placed first in almost every hurdling race during the track season.