Sectionals: The Experience That Changed My Life

Feeling exhausted, I focus on my breathing. I breath in through my nose and then out through my mouth, breath in and out. Repeat. After passing the mile mark, my coach is shrieking for me to relax, because I am on my way to qualify for cross country states. The top twenty girls qualify, and I have been dreaming of this day since freshman year. All I have to do is hold my position, and then I am golden. Suddenly, my legs begin to feel like jello. My running partner slowly fades ahead of me, and I cannot keep up. It feels like I am running backwards as the rest of my teammates pass me one by one. Fighting fatigue, I tell myself I am finishing this race, whether or not I have to crawl like a turtle to do so. I am crossing that finish line.

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

The highs and lows of competition have constructed in me into an entirely new athlete. My first year of track and field and I made it to Far East by qualifying in the 4x800 relay. I guess you could call it beginner's luck. I would call it dedication and confidence. After almost a week of running and jumping events, the time has come to announce the winners of the banners. With the awkward silence sitting and waiting for the results to be told along with the rest of the crowd, the announcer finally broke the silence. “The D2 Girls Track Champions of 2015 is Zama American High.” This one night as emotional as an groom seeing his bride walk down the aisle knowing that she is all his. Have you ever wanted to take a moment and breathe in the air of accomplishing your

I ran as fast as I could, I was tired but knew that I had to keep going. The sun shone down ferociously making it very bright and torrid. I felt sweat drip from just above my brow into my right eye. My eye began to get a burning sensation just as I turned the corner. My muscles ached, but I knew I had to shift into overdrive and pick up the pace. I started to run faster and faster. I began to get the feeling like I was about to throw up, but knew that I couldn’t stop now. I continued to sprint to the finish, and just as I crossed the finish line I looked to the clock and noticed that I set a new PR. The feeling of happiness that swelled up inside me took me back to the practice on the tuesday of the previous week: That day it was hot as fire

“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.

Ever since i’d moved to John McCrae Senior Public School in grade 5 it had been my dream to compete in the 100 meter sprint at Birchmount Stadium. So when the opportunity to qualify to go to Birchmount was approaching I didn’t leave it up to fate. I trained for a week to make sure that I was ready for the tryout.

In the beginning I felt like I should just quit, but I thought, what was all that practice for then? So I kept running anyways. I passed a couple guys while we're going up and down, left and right. There were many people on the side cheering and even though they weren’t cheering for me, it helped me keep running. The run went by very quickly and the finish line came up in a flash. Many people around me started sprinting, but I felt like throwing up at that point. I slowed down, but then I heard my dad cheering on for me. I couldn't let him down, so I ignored the feeling of throwing up and sprinted. I kept on running passing a couple people, and it was over. I came in 19th place. I went to my dad disappointed for letting him

The season was coming to a close, and at this thought, my chest contracted and my eyes fluttered. The Founders League Tournament was around the corner, and the coaches were beginning to assemble the all stars of each event. Although I was steadily improving my 100m time, the cutoff for running in Founders was at 11.2, and I was off by a tenth of a second. My shoulders slumped and the breeze from the wind hit the back of my neck as my head hung loose from my body. Although disheartened, I was chosen to be in the 4x100 relay team to run at Founders, bringing my head back up. This year, Taft would host Founders, giving us a home field edge. As the date came closer, practices intensified, but my legs felt looser and stronger than ever. Before

I approached that year’s conditioning with a pessimistic attitude and wondered why was I doing this when I’m not going to run in meets. Just like the year before, I assumed that conditioning and practicing would be obsolete. I braced myself for another disappointing year. Every winter day after school, I braced myself against the cold with a hope that this season would be different. I went into the first day of practice feeling in shape and optimistic. But just like freshman year, there was no preparing for the ache and suffering of the first practice. With the season approaching, our coach timed us to determine who would run in meets. Our coach divided us into groups based on how fast she thought we were. When a senior saw that I was in the first, slower group, he said that I belonged in the faster group with them. Hearing that compliment from a senior changed my outlook on the season might go. As the first track meet approached, we split off into groups so we could perfect our technique based on the event we were running. As I was jogging around the track wondering whether this year was going to be the same as last year, our coach summoned me over to perfect baton handoffs for the 4x100 meter relay. As the realization hit me that I was going to compete, I thought, “I’m not going to relinquish this spot because I labored profusely to attain

When the season ended and my senior year was slowly approaching I knew I had to get better no doubt about it, over those three months of summer I ran harder than i had ever ran with and without hurdles becoming faster and having improved stamina. When it came time for my first senior indoor practice I knew I was a better athlete it even felt like I was better than before.Coach not being sure about how I would preform the only thing left to do was prove myself to him.Durring this indoor season all I had to run was the 55 meter hurdles so itwasno reason why I shouldnt excell in it.At the first meet coach expected me to run at least a 8.50 after I finished the race I immediety looked at the looked at the clock finishing seconf I knew my time had to be decent. I had ran a 8.45 running faster than the time expected of me I was very proud of myself but knew I could go faster.When the conference meet came I still haven't ran any faster but I knew i could at the finish line i wanted and before I knew it the gun was shot POW! getting out of my blocks even faster than i ever had I knew this was the race where I would run my fastest

Before I knew it the Starter pointed his gun high and fired. Across the starting line from both sides I felt runners storming off, as did I. I wanted to take a smart approach as I planned I would. The first mile quickly came up and I was advancing my place further to put myself into a positive position to finish. A mile and a half into the race overall I felt relaxed  and was still moving up passing runners. Next the second mile came up and I was starting to struggle as were some runners close by. Additionally hills were to come in the next mile and a half and I wasn’t looking forward to it, but I knew If I stopped then slowed down, I wouldn’t satisfy myself. Eventually I made it through the hills along with other struggling runners. The last part of the race came and as soon as I made it to where I had about 400m left, overall I gave it all I had in the moment so that I finished in excellent standing with myself. As I gave it all I could I passed a few runners in the process and as a few passed by as well. Finally, after several minutes of trying to catch my breath I finally

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.

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 came to the first day of summer practice; I wore cheer shoes, a bow, and a full face of makeup. That day my coach looked at me and told me to run five miles, I thought I was going to actually die. By the end of the practice I had thrown up multiple times and repeatedly told myself never again. I had mentally and physically already given up, so I thought. During the next three weeks of summer practice I ran on my own, day after day of agonizing pain. I've never been one to give up, when things start to get tuff, that usually means I just have to get tougher. I came back the first day of actual practice ready for whatever was about to be thrown at me, again I was told to run five miles. This time I could actually keep up, I stayed with the girls on the team the entire time. The first race took place nearly three weeks later at our own home course, the only goal I had at the time was to not get last place. Everyone lined up at the starting line, anxiously swaying back and forth waiting for the wretched sound of the gun to go off. The gun finally went off and the race had begun. I started off in second place next to the fastest girl on our team, who was also the girl who had asked me to join

I was well behind the rest of the group, dizzy and dehydrated, never had run three miles before and going well over at this point, I ended up finding my way back before passing out. However, there were no excuses, I had to finish the last mile and a half on the track to complete the day's schedule. I knew after that the season would be tough, and I almost considered quitting. But, I was stubborn and determined to get better. The season carried on and the practices got tougher, six or more miles, extreme weather, tougher terrain, but I persisted getting closer to the varsity runners. My coach saw this and put me in their group to run with them. Despite the difficulty of keeping their pace, I gained more motivation from this. When I tore my hamstring shortly after, the motivation kept me running with the injury, not stopping until I had to be carried to the bus from the finish line of a meet because I couldn't walk anymore. I finished the year on varsity and went through the rest of my freshmen year thinking my senior year I would be a captain on the team.