Personal Narrative Analysis

My parents have always told me that if I would try hard enough and never let anything knock me down I would be something special. They have taught me that if I was inspired to do better than I would do better. All throughout my life people have inspired me to become the person that I am today; my teachers, coaches, peers, and family have given me enough inspiration to last a lifetime and I will always remember their encouraging words while going through hardship. The best part about living in a small town is that everyone knows you and what you’re going through, so it is not atypical to hear encouraging words when you are feeling low. The worst memory that I have a blessing of remembering was on October 10, 2015; the day that changed everything

I worked all season to conquer this course, and this would be the year that I would defeat it. The race started and I pushed hard into one of the top twenty spots. I knew the race was almost over once I passed by the starting line onto the second lap of the race. I raced past the spot I twisted my ankle junior year, past the spot where the dog always barks from the house between the trees, past the spot where my team danced to the newest hit song on the warm-up; I never made past the hill. At least fifty parents and coaches were standing at the bottom of the hill when I hyperextended my knee. My leg felt broken, so out of panic, I yelled for help. I did not know that yelling those four little letters would change everything. I was picked up and put in an ambulance while my mom and I cried; I needed to finish the race though. The EMT had to put me down and let me finish. He had to. I screamed for him to put me down, but my coach came and told me it was too late; I was immediately disqualified when a parent from Jasper picked me up to move me off the course so that I would not be trampled. The race ended without one runner… me. The only way I could continue my running career would be for my whole team to advance, so I waited for the result and cried until there was nothing left. My coach cried when he handed me the results; my team did not advance. It was over. Everything I worked so hard for meant nothing. The early mornings seemed like a waste, the last nights coming home from meets seemed pointless; however, I had to be strong for my