August 22, 2015, a day to be forever marked with blood, sweat, tears, but most importantly, triumph. That day was race day. The day when all my hours of grueling training would face the ultimate challenge. The day where I would be able to identify myself as a runner. There’s only one problem with that—I’m not a runner; I’m a tennis player. So why on Earth would I subject myself to hours of training for a sport I don’t even do? For that we have to go back to March 24, 2015, the day of tennis tryouts. Being that sophomore year was my first year at Marquette High, making the varsity tennis team was a huge deal for me. As tryouts concluded, my chances for making varsity were exceptionally high, for I had beaten two returning varsity players as well as two others fighting for my varsity …show more content…
Since Frank told me to work on my stamina, I concluded that the best way to do this was to run a half marathon. I knew that running a half marathon would be the most brutal test of athleticism I would ever face in my life, but if it meant making varsity tennis, I wouldn’t reconsider running for even a second. Upon making this resolve, I looked up a list of upcoming half marathons in which I found one: Madison scheduled for late August. At that point I had five months to train. Foolish as I am, I didn’t start until August 1st. I didn’t think I needed the previous four months, because I had wildly overestimated my athleticism; for after running three miles on that hot and humid first day of August, I wished to collapse. I wanted to surrender the challenge. But that’s not who I am. I set an objective and I was going to achieve that objective. As a result I devised a three week training plan to methodically guarantee my prosperity. The first week, despite its being the least amount of cumulative miles, was the most arduous. The farthest distance I travelled was five miles, not even half of the distance I was projecting to run only two weeks
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.
If you think you're running the Iditarod you need at least 18 months of training your
Perseverance, dedication, and discipline, these are the qualities that have been instilled in me throughout my training. My sport requires failing repeatedly until consistency is found in perfection. Therefore, perseverance proved crucial as I attempted skill progressions and difficult routines. Dedication was essential whenever I watched others miss practice for social events. I didn’t recognize the immediate benefits of my deep rooted commitment until months and years later; now I have applied this devotion to every aspect of my life.
The Book “The Perfect Mile” by Neal Bascomb, is about a dedicated runner named Roger Bannister. Roger was a young English medical student who had a dream. He believed that nothing was impossible if you followed three simple steps; worked hard, never gave up and gave it you all each day. He lived by these three rules and made each day count. Everyone told Neal that running a mile in under four minutes was physically impossible and he could never do it. He used that as motivation to keep training. However, Roger was not the only man who wanted to run a mile in under four minutes. He was up against 2 world class olympic runners. One being John Landy. The privileged son of a genteel worker and part of an Australian family. He also trained relentlessly “in an almost spiritual attempt to shape his mind and body to this singular task”(Bascomb 18). Then there was Wes Santee,a Kansas farm boy and natural athlete who believed he was just plain better than everybody else. The day finally came for Roger to show that the impossible was possible. On May 9, 1954 Roger ran a mile on the oxford tract in three minutes and fifty nine point four seconds. Proving the world wrong.
Summiting the infamous Spark Hill, I hear the heavy breathing of four runners and the grinding of loose gravel beneath aching legs. As the course levels and veers left between the boys and girls dorms, I accelerate into the lead. Not one hundred meters later, I question my bold strategy. With still over a mile to go, my body tells me that it’s feeling a lot of pain. I decide to push even harder, for this pain is nothing compared to the pain that woke me up one night during spring break my Junior Year.
As most children did, I had the choice to play whatever sport I wanted. Considering my height, 5’10, most would assume that I played either basketball or volleyball. No one expected me to play tennis, and was surprised when I said that I did. During my elementary years, I played softball for seven years, and when I hit eighth grade, I decided to play tennis. My decision came about because of my sister. I had always followed closely in her footsteps because I looked up to her a lot, so when I saw she was playing; I wanted to try it out too. I had never really thought about what it would be like to play tennis. I didn’t hate it, or really know what it would be like to play it. And little did I know that playing would demand so much time, energy, and effort.
It was November 5th, 2013 – it was my cross country league meet. I was running the hardest, the fastest, and with more intensity than I have ran with the first three years of my cross country career combined. It was the hardest course in Michigan, but it seemed easy to me as I practiced on it every other day. The competition was at least thirty seconds behind me as the three-story hill was too big of a challenge for them. The screams and cheering of the crowd fueled my adrenaline and I hit my runner’s high. I had tackled the hill for the final time and the crowd was screaming louder than I have ever heard, which caused me to power up the hill, then I stopped in my tracks. I realized what they were screaming about. There was someone, or something, hunched over my coach’s body. It looked human, but there was something off about the figure. The “thing” turned around and looked at me. It was pale, fit, had red eyes, and was covered in my coach’s blood and intestines. My heart stopped. What the hell? Then, I ran. It chased me. I didn’t have time to think about where I was going or what I had just seen, I just ran as fast as I could and as far as I could get. I heard screaming from the other runners and other onlookers, and when I glanced back to see if the thing was behind me, it wasn’t. I ended up in the parking lot, hotwired an older car (by popping
Running is not easy, but most Saturday mornings in the summer, I convince myself to step outside and test the strength of my heart by running a few miles. Half-Marathon US Champion Julia Stamps once stated, “Running away, can also be running toward something.” That is exactly what I do. When I start running away from my house, I end up running towards a specific destination. Two miles in, I stop at my destination to enjoy the view of Ted Grinter’s
I signed up to run track in the spring and went to summer conditioning for cross country. That’s when my coaches, teammates, and myself noticed that my running has improved significantly from when I first started. I knew that I had to work hard my senior year to achieve my goals for running. Running is a mental sport. The workouts I had to do were brutally painful and I had stay positive throughout the run because I know the training I had to do will help me during a race.
Sports are not for everyone. I tried a variety of sports throughout my childhood but I was never really athlete material. I am as slow as a turtle and I have little to no hand-eye coordination, but I gave each sport a try. It was truly a shock when I decided to run cross-country since I had no speed whatsoever.
When it was time to warm up I ran a couple of laps around the track. After that, I stretched and started to warm up on the hurdles. The 100 meter hurdles was the first race of the day. When I was done warming up I took off my sweats and went to go get my lane number. I was in lane four. I felt like I’d been waiting forever to run. To make it
One, Two, Three, and bang I hear the pistol goes off. I start to run as fast as I can go from the fear of staying behind. I had to do that process every single week; I didn't really like it a lot; I was nervous and scared but I didn't stop I just kept on going. The training wasn't fun either I hated it. I was always tired and I was in pain most of the time. Track was something new for me; I wasn't the best at it but, my friends kept on pushing me to work harder and become better.
The winter air wraps me up like a thin, old blanket that is just about to break. I feel it course through my lungs, searing my alveolar sacs as they desperately try to extract a few molecules of oxygen from the air, renewing my depleted blood and sending it whooshing back to my legs and arms traveling almost 12,000 miles in a day. And I was only doing five. I hit a hill and feel that soreness in my legs, as if they had been wrung dry like a wet towel; sore but not hurting and then hurting and then numb. Runner’s high. I can go forever, my mind says.
For these two weeks in August, I will be very dedicated to bettering myself as well as the other people around me. As a former track and field captain, I made a special effort to talk to any new runner, learn his name, and crack jokes with him. As a member of the Ignatius Scholars Program, I will devote myself to opening the eyes of my peers to encounter new challenges
The main narrative of the memoir can stem from his experience leading up to the 2005 New York City Marathon. This narrative begins with his vacation in Hawaii, before the race, where he lays out the importance of his running routine. He runs at the very least one hour a day, six days a week, which he has been doing for the 20 years he has been running. Murakami admits that running is not something that everyone will love, but something he enjoys nonetheless, and it may not be for everyone: “No matter how strong a will a person has, no matter how much he may hate to lose, if it's an activity