On mornings as cold as this, there were only a few things I imagine one could think of that might be an appropriate form of activity. A moderate list. Running would probably be somewhere towards the bottom of that list. Yet, there I was, struggling through hundreds of people in dri-fit T-shirts and above-the-knee level, elastic gym shorts. I’d never been a fan of unfamiliar crowds. I could learn to deal with that. As I moved around and did copious amounts of stretching to get my body ready for the task before me, I unknowingly would soon have to learn to deal with something much harder to overcome than unfamiliar crowds.
Growing up in the south, I had always associated the summer months with blistering heat. I guess San Francisco didn’t get
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People started to saunter off into a jog in a massive portion. As soon as I passed the starting line I quickly rushed into a pace that was calm, but would insure that the duration of this run would be no picnic if I succeeded in keeping it up. So far, my goal was to catch up to as many people as I could. It was going well, I would find someone that was a bit of a ways in front of me and work my way up to them, then pass them when I found someone else to catch. I liked doing that, it was one of my favorite strategies, and it got my mind off of the monotony of running. It was quite entertaining, particularly because there’s always someone in front of you to catch up to. Unless, of course, you’re the best. Which I never was so I never had to worry about …show more content…
The timing of my breaths and the swaying of my arms back and forth, following it to a tee. In time, in sync, my body was a moving orchestra. Every part having its own job, and in succeeding to do so in a timely fashion, made the outcome that much spectacular. But, around the middle of mile 7 things started to get complicated. I started to feel something in my abdomen. At first, I couldn’t quite distinguish it. It wasn’t exactly a pain, but bothersome nonetheless. Starting to consider what it could be I realized it wasn’t a matter of “what” it was, but a lack thereof, recognizing the feeling as hunger. I had grew an insane hunger and continued to do so. It seemed that peanut butter and banana sandwich wasn’t going to hold me over for the course of the next 6
366 miles. A feat only few conquer. The Mile a Day Challenge takes little strength; it is primarily commitment-based. My willingness to run started as a hobby, but as it slowly started to impact my lifestyle, I took it as a habit. Through the motivation it provides and high it gives, freelance running watered a once thirsty plant that is my passions.
Throughout the active school year, I take part in cross country, track and basketball. I also played volleyball for a year, but I decided to concentrate on my main passion, cross country, instead of dividing my time and attention into two sports at the same time. I have been running cross country ever since I was old enough to run in the munchkin races. The sport has been passed down through the family, almost every single one of my siblings have run or at least tried it. In track, I have ran the mile and two mile since the seventh grade. These last couple years I joined into the long distance relays. In 2016, the first year we decided to start a relay it consisted of my sister, Victoria, Tristen Ness, and Sammy Swanson. The first time we ran
I was almost two seconds behind Josh before I closed the lead he had. My car was much faster than his as I could put my car anywhere on the track at will. When I caught Josh, he was running in the middle of the track so I made several attempts to go both high and low to try and maneuver a pass. However, with him running in the middle groove, none of my attempts would make it possible for me to get a solid run to complete the pass. I even slammed my brakes, and went to the high groove to try and keep from hitting him. I tried every line possible to get around Josh cleanly with no
Last year I started a new sport, cross country. I only did it because my lacrosse coach said that it might help me get better for lacrosse. So I went to the first late summer practice last year to see what this was like, so then we did warm-ups and a lap around the track. Then it was the first time I met coach Chase, My first impression of him was going to be very strict, But soon realized that this was false because of one of the first things he said. He said “I know there are a lot of nerves here right now, but cross country isn’t about winning every race, that comes later” then continued with “Cross country is about showing what you can do to yourself.” This struck me very hard because I was not that fast and was near the back. Through that fall the team did very well, I also made some progress myself. After the season was over I made a decision.
When I was in seventh grade I fell in love. Not with a person, but a sport. I fell in love with track. I enjoyed the workouts, the races, the team, the events, the meets, but most of all I had found a passion for sprinting. I worked everyday during practice to prepare for the meets. I pushed myself as hard as I could and never gave up. I couldn’t get enough of it. I was mad for the feeling of your lungs bursting for air and your legs burning with pain. The long, exhausting workouts, the freezing practices, and the crazy memories you can make. There was nothing about it that I found unlikeable. Track was consuming my thoughts, I couldn’t stop. I was in love with it in every single way.
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
It was a perfect night for a run. Around 70 degrees with a slight breeze. I wait in my Dark Blue Mini Cooper as my watch gets my location. Feet trembling with adrenaline, much like an addict, I’m itching for a run. With a loud “BEEP,” I know the smartwatch is ready and I’m off. As time progresses, I start running faster, faster, and faster. The whispering wind would flow through my hair as I make my way down the trail. Bliss. I notice my surroundings, trees, deer, and the bright light of my headlamp. Chills go up my spine every so often. All I hear is the pitter pattering of my red running shoes and the occasional rustle of bushes. After what feels like the shortest moment ever, my half-hour run is over and I sigh with relief.
87/140 blood pressure. Hypertension? No, adrenaline. My heart was beating fast and hard; I could practically feel the blood pumping through every vein, every capillary, every artery. I could feel ,the constant assault on my whole body of the speeding wind that brought in a brigade of sand to scratch my face and make its way through every crevice. We were moving at such high speeds that the truck seemed to never even touch the ground.
As the sun’s nutritious rays fuel my body; sweat races down my back and accumulates into the threads of my cotton t-shirt. I peer over my neighborhood park fence and gaze over the spacious scenery. The track field was well in shape, free of small debris and ready for a test run and light jump activities in the sand-pit. Soon enough the high temperature fills my head, leaving me in a state of allusion. Images of my friends and I sporadically unfold in front of me and unto the track; as if being placed in a desert mirage. I feel a sense of peace and eagerness surge through my body, while the images continue to appear. Then, a whisper comes into the mix saying some sort of gibberish. Stepping a bit more cautiously then I regularly would I walked
“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.
“Hey, Chase, do you have any cash I can borrow? I promise I’ll pay you back as soon as I can.”
I remember a September morning at the peak of cross country season. At 5:30am my body dragged itself out of bed against my brain's will and I was pulling up to the track soon after. As we had all anticipated, today would be the track long run, in which all of our miles would be run in laps around the track. That came out to about 32 laps, an intimidating number for any of us. To the average person, such a workout seems challenging at best; although no one complained. In fact, our coach seemed to have an inspirational glow in his eyes as we made our way to the track. The moon and stars were still shining brightly as stadium lights flooded the field in blue light. We began our laps in a close pack determined to stay together until no longer
I first started running Cross Country in 7th grade. I had never run before, so I was on the low end of the team in terms of speed. I got faster as I ran, and could run longer as I increased my endurance. Soon the races commenced.
It was a warm winter day my family and I were out enjoying ourselves alone at the sledding hill. Sausers, tubes, sleds, and toboggans, we used them all. Until we decided to build ramps, well my brothers did. I was too young to understand.
I remember the game winning point in Van Horn Iowa. We Bump, Set, Hit.... It was a kill!. The crowd goes viral. It's 2016 and the Sailor Nation 7th graders are on there way to state!