After months of practice, the day finally came to take on anyone. “It is time to move,” my trainer said. Although I had seen many of my seniors race on that same course, I started shaking as my heart beat constantly increased because it was my first time. As I moved to the start line, I could feel the sweat run down the dark blue protective suit, the engines racing, backfiring and the crowd making a lot of noise.
We got ready at the start line forming a cloud of smoke behind us. All I could smell was burnt gas filling my helmet. Suddenly, the lights turned red, yellow, green then off we went accelerating smoothly through the first kilometer raising dust behind us tending to the sharp turns and hills. As we made the first jump, we crashed into each other and landed like a cannon on hard, dry ground. I felt my temperature rising and sweating like a marathoner in a race. I could not feel my heart beat for a couple of seconds. Quickly I thought I had gotten an internal injury and was going to die. I turned my body slowly in the dusty air to lie on my back as I cried loud for help. as I...
The morning has came it’s race day your heart is pumping you are ready for the announcer to say 10 seconds!!!!!You are talking to your friends before the race and the
Surprisingly, our parents had beaten us to the top and we all stopped in awe, mesmerized by the great waterfall in front of us. My mouth felt like the Sahara desert. I vividly remember reaching for the chilling water bottle that hid underneath the tons of clothes stuffed in my father’s black backpack to quench my thirst. I took off my beaten down shoes and stinky socks covered in dirt from the trail and blood from the blisters on my feet and dove into the refreshing lake. After swimming through the lake for a few seconds, I abruptly jumped out of the freezing water. My toes turned into a blue that reminded me of the blueberry muffins from breakfast that morning. My body shivered as I exited the lake and threw on a warm towel over my shoulders. Gradually my body heat increased, escaping the risk of hypothermia. At that point, I just wanted to go home. My family and I gathered all our belongings and I dragged my energyless body into the large, gray shuttle. The shuttle smelled of sweat from previous passengers. It drove us down a rough, bumpy trail, causing my tall father to constantly slam his head on the roof of the car. After we finally got back to our hotel, we all let off a sigh of
Bicycling was an exciting experience for two reasons. First, it has allowed me to travel around the city. Second, it gives me a chance to hang out with my friends. I love bicycling, I think it is fabulous! I can now observe my city, the people that lived there, the architecture, and the trees and animals, etc. Sometimes in our life, we just need to slow down our pace. We're so used to rushing through life that we don't even know what we have missed, but It's hard to blame ourselves because we're busy about our jobs especially when we were living in the city. I was once like that; I head right straight to school when it's time for school. As I walk I would only stare at my watch instead if looking to my left and/ or right.
Coma I glance over at my older brother, Grant. He’s teaching me to drive the old Stick-shift pickup today. " Ok, J you heard what I said before, easy on the gas when you’re switching gears.
Before every run, we walk. We get into our teams, line up in neat columns on the one hundred meter start, and stare down the distance between ourselves and the beginning of the race. Every runner is shaking out his limbs and getting the blood flowing, getting the already tense muscles ready to explode at the crack of the starting gun; on this particular morning, everyone is sweating under the sun’s cruel glare. Each of us attempts to amplify that nervous energy that runs through every bulging artery, every electrified synapse, and transform it into pure unbridled power. Lined up in our squads of four, we are like a hoplite of ancient warriors, each one willing to sacrifice himself for his team, ready to go down in a blaze of glory.
Before I started BMXing I was really struggling in school. But then i got my first BMX. I rode that bike all day everyday. Before I got it, I was just doing stuff I wasn’t supposed to do and getting in all kinds of trouble. Then when I got my bike, I started hanging out with better friends and getting better grades. These friends teach me in and out of school. One of them was Saul who taught me how to do stunts on my bike. In school he sat next to me and showed me how to do the work. I met them in 8th grade first hour when we sat next to each other and eventually started talking. I found out they were my best friends. We had all the same connections. Besides biking, we like to travel places, don’t like homework, same sense of humor, and are risk takers. Almost every day of middle school me and Saul would ride our bikes home after school and go ride another 5 miles. Then I ride home with is 3 miles home from school. When i get home I just fall asleep after a total of 13 miles
Disappointment, disbelief and fear filled my mind as I lye on my side, sandwiched between the cold, soft dirt and the hot, slick metal of the car. The weight of the car pressed down on the lower half of my body with monster force. It did not hurt, my body was numb. All I could feel was the car hood's mass stamping my body father and farther into the ground. My lungs felt pinched shut and air would neither enter nor escape them. My mind was buzzing. What had just happened? In the distance, on that cursed road, I saw cars driving by completely unaware of what happened, how I felt. I tried to yell but my voice was unheard. All I could do was wait. Wait for someone to help me or wait to die.
Even with a one hour time difference, three o’clock in the morning is never a good time to wake up to a phone call from your best friends’ mother. I will never forget the sound of her voice, scratchy and hushed from what I later learned was hours of crying, as she told me that my best friend had been in a serious car accident, caused by a drunk driver. I had no idea when I hugged her goodbye in the airport a month prior that it would be for the last time. Unfortunately, I am not alone in this experience. In 2016, a life was taken every 50 minutes by a drunk driver, totaling more than 10,000 by the end of the year.
The start of the 2002 track season found me concerned with how I would perform. After a disastrous bout with mononucleosis ended my freshmen track season, the fear of failure weighed heavily on my mind. I set a goal for myself in order to maintain focus and to push myself like nothing else would. My goal for my sophomore track season was to become a state champion in the 100 meter hurdles. I worked hard everyday at practice and went the extra mile, like running every Sunday, to be just that much closer to reaching my goal. The thought of standing highest on the podium in the center of the field, surrounded by hundreds of spectators, overcame my thoughts of complaining every time we had a hard workout. When I closed my eyes, I pictured myself waiting in anticipation as other competitors names were called out, one by one, until finally, the booming voice announced over the loudspeaker, "...and in first place, your 2002 100 meter hurdle champion, from Hotchkiss, Connie Dawson." It was visions like these that drove me to work harder everyday.
I did it. I jumped off. The cold air hitting my face as I plummet towards the gravel. Some panicking, some remained still. I heard one lady scream. Crashed. The pain jolted throughout my body. It didn't hurt as much as the realisation that I didn't succeed. I was still alive. People started to surround me, some dialing 911 to seek for professional help. A man was telling me "Hold on, you'll be fine". I didn't want to hold on.
I dip my toes in—feels cold. My nerves rise up and spread like fire throughout my body while I watch—while I wait. Stomach hurts. All those butterflies clash and crowd. They come every time that I race—it never fails. There is so much noise—the splash of water, talking, yelling, whistling, cheering.
Going into the first race we had not expected much since Susan and I had never run this type of race. There were so many crucial things that we had to remember. It wasn't just to get out of the blocks and burn up the track; there was a baton involved, a certain amount of steps to take, and even a certain way to hold the baton.
My internal organs thumped against my chest as I dragged my bag along the carpet floor and into the corridor. As I walked into the long hall, I glanced up and noticed the sign telling me I could get on. My entire body could barely hold itself together with the anticipation of the monumental, dream-come-true event about to take place. I said to myself, "I'll soon be in the air." I slowed my pace to further enjoy what was happening. Swarms of people walked around me as I treasured knowing that one of my lifetime goals was now inevitably going to occur. The excitement and adrenaline running through my veins could have killed a horse.
My body got cold for the first time in seven years. I was scared of a two-minute routine that I had practiced a thousand times. When I stepped onto the stage, I could feel my heart as it rapidly pumped. I was scared, as we set for the routine. The first task to complete was a standing tumbling. “Come on Michelle, jump!” I screamed inside my head. “You have to pull your legs around.” I landed. “Good, next was running tumbling.” As I moved to the next spot to start my running tumbling, everything seemed to move in slow motion. I was the last tumbler to go. “six…five…four…three…two…one” It was my turn. My legs started to run; my hands hit, then my feet. So far, I was okay.
After three hours we arrived at our first break stop. We stopped at a section that was on top of the waterfall. The view was amazing and spectacular because we had never seen anything like this. As we continued our hike after several more break stops, and nine more hours of hiking, we finally arrived at the top of El Capitan. Once we got to the top the view was amazing. We could not imagine how beautiful it was up there on top of the world. After about half an hour we started heading back down, when all of a sudden out of no where I felt someone push me out of the way. A man that was in a hurry to get back down pushed me so hard, that I lost my balance and fell of a twenty foot cliff. At that moment in time I could see flashbacks of my life. After a couple seconds of falling I somehow landed between two rocks which shattered my right foot. After that happen every one that was there tried to get help but unfortunately cell phones do not work in Yosemite, but the man that pushed me over the cliff had a walky-talky and he called for help.