It’s day two of Nationals, 93°F and my eigth even of the decathlon. I tie the thin, yellow laces of my spikes. My mind refuses to wander away from what’s next, pole vault. Pole vault is my absolute favorite thing in the world, but here i’m left to my own. I’m in Houston, TX while my coach is all the way back at home in Billings. As I began to warm up in the most conventional manner as possible, just going through the motions making sure i’m limber, I begin to question what is to happen. How will I hold up to my competition? Can I really do this on my own? I rub my hands down with chalk and begin my warmups on the runway. As I run I feel the dry chalk against the tape at the top of the pole, holding it tightly but making sure i’m not tense. …show more content…
My coach back home told me to not just go to the very top of it and don’t do anything we hadn’t done before. I take a shot at 11’ 4”, I go up feeling forceful and robust but I could not get up high enough to go over it. It happens again, now I only have one more attempt or i’m out. I sit down while the other athletes vault. Contemplating all the different ways I could do this. Finally I come to the conclusion that i’m going against what my coach told me, against common sense, and even against my better judgment. I take the 14 foot pole out of my bag and begin to balance it in my hands, the weight and balance feels so odd that I realize it’s a foot longer and that’s a lot higher up in the air that I could go. The higher I go the better my height, or the worse it’ll hurt when I fall. I take the pole in my hands which are sweaty but so covered in white chalk that it doesn’t matter, I see nothing but a red rubber runway and bar in the air. I can feel and almost taste the sweat coming down my face. I force myself to start to run. Everything's quiet, all eyes on me. I go up, do the usual motions but make myself push harder against
Success is not given, it is earned. Waking up for a 5am skating practice is nobody’s ideal Wednesday morning, especially for a hormonal teenager like myself. However, satisfaction of landing a new jump or learning a new spin does not come from letting our ‘wants’ buyout our dreams. “By the time we’d finished, we were amazed at how much the book had taught us: about ourselves.” I don’t always succeed, nor do I always expect to. Throughout all the morning practices and late night workouts, failure is something I have learned from. I remember giving up on myself countless times after falling on a jump or not turning my edges properly, as if I had ‘writer's-block,’ feeling completely numb. Nevertheless, succeeding was the easy part, it was learning to grow into the 6 year old singing, confident, child again, and defeating the numbness. I have learned, along the way, people are going to try to undercut your success or take credit for your hard work. However, it is the end product that matters. It will be I who knows how to complete a program, or I who knows how to work hard. Staying focused as the athlete I am, not letting people side track me, builds the confidence to know ‘I finished the
I am now officially in my Senior year of Cross Country , and am close to the end of my season. My first race of this year though was a big accomplishment for me, because I hadn`t been able to run. When I ran that race though it made me just so happy I was able to finish it, I was`nt happy with the time, but there is always time for improvement. I was glad to be racing again and being apart of the team again. I believe that my injuries were a barrier in my way, but they did not stop my sports career.
Cross country runners spend weeks to months training for that one moment, the moment they will lean across the finish line. Crossing the finish line only lasts for only a split second, but the impact is significant. People often ask why, why spend so much time training for that one moment? Well for me it’s simple. The feeling I have when I cross that finish line is like no other I’ve ever had; it is a unique combination of pride, pain, relief, and an indescribable sense of accomplishment. After reading Into Thin Air, I realized how similar climbing a mountain actually is to running a race. Climbers, just like runners, spend months training for those few glorious minutes on top.
I had arrived to the jumping pits ready to preform my best with my parents standing along the fence cheering for both my sister and I. I was ranked first coming into the event so I knew if I preformed my best jump I would take first place, or so I thought. As I stepped foot on the runway to preform my jump I said good luck to my sister Cora, who then proceeded to stand in line behind me. On my first attempt I jumped 35 feet 8 inches on and was satisfied because it was my farthest jump in the season. As I made my way to the back of the line to preform my second jump I hear the announcer say, “35 feet 2 inches.” Shocked that somebody was jumping almost as far as I had I turned around to see who jumped, and it was Cora. At that moment my adrenaline kicked in, and so did my sister’s. I hopped right back in line with a mindset to make my next jump unreachable. As I anticipated what the measured jump would say I was anxious, “36 ft 3 inches.” A sigh of relief hit me because I knew that was half an inch under my school record and my sister had only one jump left. Cora made her way down the runway with victory on her mind, and when she hit the sandpit I looked the other way scared of what the measurement might be. “36 feet flat” the announcer broadcasted. With that being said a giant smile streaked across Cora’s face, as a giant frown draped down mine. Her jump was too close for
That thing was probably the most horrible thing I have ever seen. I have never been in contact with such a space consuming thing. It moved with a lack of elegance and fluidity. Snowboarders are probably the most annoying people on the earth. Don’t we have enough board related sports? Who had even invented the art of snowboarding? I had first learned to ski at the age of six, and had never even thought of learning how to snowboard. I was even annoyed at other snowboarder’s presence on the slopes and their laid back way of life. All I knew was skiing, and I loved it. When I asked my family what they thought about my skiing they said that I had a certain unique touch to it. Ever since I had learned how to ski, I had just wanted to get better and I was
I approach the rugged mountain, shielding my body from the nasty frost nipping at my exposed skin. The sun ever so lightly peeks over the horizon as I strap on my skis, lightly dusted with a thin layer of fresh snow. Although my body shivers unceasingly, I feel comforted by the surges of adrenaline pumping through my body. I skate briskly toward the ski lift to secure my place as the first person in line. On the slippery leather seats of the lift my mind races, contemplating the many combinations of runs I can chain together before I reach the bottom of the hill. I arrive at the peak of the mountain and begin building up speed. Floating on the soft snow, weaving through the trees and soaring over rocks, I feel as if I am flying. The rush of adrenaline excites me. I feed on it. I thrive on it. I am ski; I live for speed; I am an evolving technique and I hold a firm edge.
The hill was so long. I could feel my lungs in my throat, as if they had climbed up my trachea and into my mouth so that they could get more oxygen. I ran through plume after plume of my own breath, marking my progression as I emerged from each misty cloud only to encounter another one and the slow uphill gradient of the hill beneath my feet. All I wanted was to stop, but at the same time I couldn’t; I didn’t want to be left behind, or slow down the rest of the team, so in my mind I reminded myself of the day’s lesson from Coach: knees up, small steps, balls of your feet, push to the end of the hill, extra kick at the end, then back to rolling your feet, heels first, widen your stride, ignore the pain. Weakness is pain leaving the body. Whatever.
Pole vault is a very important part of my life, and my future may very well depend on it. I have been vaulting for four years and would love to continue through college. Pole vault is a way for me to get scholarships and money towards my college tuition. Four-year colleges have strong athletic programs. Being a college athlete has different perks to go with the level of intensity that programs like these provide. Cool clothes, nice equipment, and seriously committed teammates. If I were to vault at this level, I would be trained by experienced trainers, coached by high ranking and knowledgeable coaches and compete with more of the
1.2 meters off the ground, 10 centimeters wide. Considered one of the most treacherous yet the most mesmerizing event in gymnastics; beam. Ever since I was little I have always been mesmerized by gymnast and the actual sport itself, gymnastics. One event had always stuck out to me; beam. My dream was to be an Olympic gymnast someday inspiring young girls like myself to push themselves with determination and hard work.
I love to run hurdles, but unfortunately last year, little pulls and strains prevented me from running to my full potential. One Thursday, we had a home track meet against Lake Stevens. For the first time I was in pretty good shape for my race, the 100-meter hurdles. I began jumping up and down partially to stay warm, and partially to let out some of my excitement. By this time, I had butterflies in my stomach and the adrenaline was pumping. The starter asked us to 'Take your sweats off and stand behind your blocks.' 'Runners take your marks.' Hands shaking, I crouched into the starting blocks. The gun was up. 'Set!' 'Bang!' I bolted out of the blocks. I was way ahead of the other girls when suddenly, I realized I didn't have enough speed to carry me over the next hurdle. Gathering all of the strength I could, I grabbed at the air in hopes of guaranteeing clearance. I had just brushed over the wood when my foot hit the ground and my ankle gave out. I fell. I heard a gasp from the crowd and the other racers' feet pounding past me. I got back up. I had never gone over a hurdle with my right leg first, but I did after that fall. Sprinting as fast as I could in between hurdles, I found myself basically bunny hopping over the rest of them. My goal was to cross that finish line and to be able to say that I did the very best that I could, even if I didn't look very graceful along the way. Although it might have seemed like a bad day, I was proud. It was the first time I had ever fallen in a race, and not only did I get back up and keep running, I managed to place second.
I had my first dance recital on the day I turned four. Now I don’t remember anything from that day, but I believe that that day is when I learned I loved to perform. I’ve been taking dance lessons since then, and many things that I do now involve performing in some type of way.
Before that one vault. I was in Sartell Sapphires gymnastics for about two years almost three years. I was always able to do a front handspring over vault by myself my coaches still would stand there Incase I would do something wrong. I would occasionally fail, but not as bad I would bend my arms, or not land it. But their was that one time. Good thing my coaches were standing there she was off to the side a little she had to run up to the vault, and try to catch me she cot me my one arm. If she wouldn’t have been their the injury could have been worse, but I Still fell onto the concrete.
Wait. Be still. Don't go over the line. Don't let go. Wait for it. "BANG!" My reactions were precise as I sprung out of the blocks. The sun was beating down on my back as my feet clawed at the blistering, red turf. With every step I took, my toes sunk into the squishy, foul smelling surface, as my lungs grasped for air. Everything felt the way it should as I plunged toward my destination. I clutched the baton in my sweaty palms, promising myself not to let go. My long legs moved me as fast as I could go as I hugged the corner of the line like a little girl hugging her favorite teddy bear. The steps were just like I had practiced. As I came closer to my final steps, my stomach started twisting and my heart beat began to rise. The different colors of arrows started to pass under my feet, and I knew it was time.
We finish what we start. This was the motto that kept me going during the strenuous training period for a marathon. But prior to that, I must confess, I wasn’t an athlete. I was never interested in playing sports, except for recreational badminton. During gym class, I would walk three quarters of the time when it time for the dreaded mile run. I preferred staying indoors and sitting on the couch and watch movies. The first time I had heard about a marathon training program, called Dreamfar, in my school, I thought to myself, what kind of crazy person would want to run a marathon? Never did I realize, eight months later, I would be that crazy person.
The world consists of many phenomena. Some of them are mysteries to us as human beings, while many others can be explained. Progressively over the centuries, science has helped us to better understand the spectacular things that physically affect the human race and the earth. Almost every single thing that deals with the physical aspect of our existence can now be explained through physics, which in turn helps us to better understand our surrounding environment. Where I have always been involved in sports, I am very interested in the specific physics that each sport consists of. One such sport that fascinates me is the high jump, and for this reason I am going to delve into the physics of the high jump and break it down to explain the different laws and physics that encompass it. The high jump can be broken down into three stages: the run up phase or approach, the take off phase, and the flight or bar clearance phase. By understanding these three stages and the different laws of physics that make them up, one will have a much greater understanding of the high jump and its mechanics. In order to begin this analysis, I need to start with the very first stage of the high jump, which is the approach or run up phase.