Personal Narrative: The First Race Of The Race

I ran before the morning sun rose in the sky, and after it disappeared leaving the world dark. I fell in love with running in every step I took. The next year, I made the decision to run cross country with the high school and I fell in love with running even more. The greatest feeling I have ever felt is coming around to the finish line, about to set a new personal best, and having your whole team scream out your name as you throw it all into the final sprint. But soon cross country ended, and since I wasn’t allowed to run track with them, I opted to train by myself for the next ten months before the next

I was born and raised in the small but growing city of Perris, CA. This isn’t the best city out there but it tends to grow on you, and you begin to truly love it for what it is. The people, however, not so much. The community can vary from which part of the city you’re in. That’s because there’s diversity here in Perris. I’m a product of this diversity, being half Mexican and half African American. My parents fell in love after high school and later on began a family. I am the youngest of five. I have two older brothers, an older sister, and an older cousin who lives with us. The order is boy, girl, boy, boy, girl with my cousin being included in there too. We all live in the same house with my parents and are quite close with each other. They all seem to have raised me growing up due to the fact that my parents were busy trying to provide for us. This was a challenge by itself, resulting in lots of house moving and my father being unemployed for six years after losing his job. I never complained about moving because I knew that my parents were doing their absolute best and were working with all that they had and then some. This unquestionably made me adaptable to new environments and gave me a

In 2025, I will be twenty-nine years old and hopefully married. I will be married to my significant other of ten years Earnest Palmer III, who is a dentist. I would have been recently graduating with a bachelor’s in Culinary Arts and trying to plan to open my own restaurant,

1. My first recollection of race was daycare. I remember seeing many different skin and eye colors but didn’t understand how they were so much more different than me. I recall asking my mother why I didn’t have green eyes and how my skin color was different. She explained everyone is made differently that’s what makes them unique. My first recollection of racism was in third grade. The nurse came to the classroom to check the classroom for lice. Myself and a few other classmates weren’t checked properly because she didn’t want to touch our hair. Instead of bringing us out individually she called us by a group which made me feel different. Also, I was told it’s impossible to get lice because of the hair products used.

Track Attack “Run your own race,” that’s what my coach told me before every race. My freshman year I was blessed to get the opportunity to run the 800 meter in Jefferson City at the 2014, Class 2, state track meet. This was my first year ever going to state so you can imagine my excitement. Although I was super duper eager, my nerves were on edge. I had never been so nervous in my entire life!

I have been running distance for past few years and I have learned a lot because of it. These thing include many life skills that will forever stick with me throughout my life. But there is one skill that I learned from my first race and is the far most meaningful and important skill that I ever learned from running.

The weekend of August 15, 2015 was life changing. I was very excited to start my sophomore year and Cross Country season because our team had just ended an amazing year, making it to State. This weekend was the last one before my sister left for her Freshman year of college. It was also my family’s last camping trip of the season. We picked a campground that was close by because I had practice on Saturday morning that I refused to miss.

In seventh grade, my classmates and I had to paint two pictures for our art class. Everyone had to do their own pair of paintings, and my teacher said that only a select few could go into the art gallery in my town, open to the public. We had to make one with a monochromatic color scheme, and one with a cool or warm color scheme. I chose black and white for the first one, and cool colors for my second. My first painting went as planned, and my teacher selected it to be part of th eart gallery collection. The second one, however, had some issues.

Where It All Started Have you tried and failed to get together with a girl or guy? Well this roller-coaster of a story will surely get you to empathize or sympathize with me, or maybe if it is that big of a failure to you, both.

The poem below is a byproduct of an early fall Friday morning spent relaxing outside of Hendershot's Coffee. While I sipped on my dark roast coffee, I witness many homeless gentlemen and women passing along on Prince Ave. After living in Augusta, Ga for ten years and participating in a church in the dead center of downtown, I was familiar with the homeless and usually never thought much into the subject. My mentality changed when a grey breaded man with his face tan from the long hours in the sun walked passed me. I had never experienced such a disclosure of sadness radiate off a human being. And as he swiftly escaped from my view, the name Tim resided in my mind from the name tag on the right breast pocket of his shirt. My poem The Evolution

100 meters (Freshman) On Your Mark! Get Set! Go! Freshman year had started with a bang; I was off to the races. I powered out of the blocks with drive and determination, my head down, focused on the year ahead. My grades were up to speed and I was in the race. With picture-perfect form and technique, my GPA was at a 3.5, and my attendance was virtually perfect, despite mishaps such as being sick, At the end of my freshman year, I was in a promising position to win the race.

I was only five years old when I first moved to to the small town of Latham (back when it was still small). As I grew up, the community grew with me, and we both embraced more and more cultures, lifestyles, and religions, evolving to have a special affinity for diversity.

When I was four months old, I was adopted from India. The uniqueness of this situation is that my adoptive parents are of Polish, German and Mexican descent. Due to this, I have always had the opportunity to surround myself to a variety of cultures. Furthermore, it has influenced me to have a different perspective. Growing up in a small community has shown the lesser of diversity. At times, it was hard to fit in but I have and will always treat my fellow man with respect and acceptance. No matter their ethnicity religion or color, I will treat everyone the same. I was raised by a single parent and know what it is like to go without and believe all should be treated equally. I want to go into the medical field to continue to help people and

As the gun goes off, I almost simultaneously burst out of the running blocks, exploding into a sprint. My adrenaline is pumping as I come up close onto another girl in my race. It was overwhelming just being at the state track meet, let alone running in the 4 by 100 relay. My speed picks up as the distance to the next person in my relay grows less and less. As I get closer to Brianna, I realize that our race isn’t going to go exactly as we had planned. Actually, our race was going to go differently than anyone had expected, and definitely not in a good way.

“Wahoo!” I yelled while speeding down the steep hill. “This is so much fun!” I yelled to Carson. As we reached the bottom of the hill, I said “let's go again!” We walked our bikes up the steep dirt hill. Rocks got in our shoes as we walked. When we reached