That sunny, blue skied day started like any other. Waking up to go to school, pondering if I should stay in bed or get up, I chose to wake up. I went to school and nothing big happened, I had a project that was assigned to me but I did not want to start on it. Then, as the bell right for most kids to go home, I stay after to go do the one thing I love - Track and Field. I have ran Track and Field for four years before interring my junior year of high school, and this year I was told I was not going to be doing my main event because of a freshman who is running it; I was upset. I helped mentor this young man in the off season to make him faster and stronger; I guess that I did my job a little too well. After the one of the coach told me that I will be running the open 400 meter dash (that is quadrupling my main event) I was really hesitant about it; thin I remembered that my head track coach is making us do a little mock-meet to help …show more content…
A moment of silence as everyone wanted to watch the three fastest people on the track to race each other. “BANG” the starting pistol goes off and I can’t hear anything, I block out all noses and I just run. The two got the jump on me but I did not let this become a tragedy to me. I keep trying, giving my all into this race. I keep pushing my body to push myself to overcome this diversity. Everything I have gone though is being put together for this one race that will last just over 11 seconds. As I near the finish line, I gave it one last push, putting my chest out there’, hoping that everything I gave for the thing that I love will pay off. We all walk back to the finish line so we can get told out times. Heard the number one runner’s time in 11.58 seconds, Zak’s times in 11.42 seconds and the only though screaming in my mind was I did not ever come this. Then my track coach told me my time, I could not believe it, 11.39 seconds. I was standing there in thinking if he was joking to
I have always loved sports and the competitiveness that comes along with them. In so doing, I have decided to eventually become either a high school or college coach at some point in my life. Subsequently, I decided to interview the Vilonia High School Cross Country Coach, Coach Sisson. As I walked into her office, I instantly noticed all of the trophies and team photos from all of the past years of coaching. She is also the school nurse so her office has first aid equipment intermingled into the trophies and team pictures. While I set up my notes and questions for the interview on one of the desks in her office, she was finishing up a diagnosis of one of the high school students who felt sick. After her patient left, I quickly started the interview in order to waste no time. She began with how she got involved in coaching. The Vilonia School District expressed their interest to her as being the next cross country coach several years ago. She was widely known for her passion for running and she gratefully accepted the position and has been a coach for numerous years now.
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.
As I got back on Loopy I felt a sense of relaxation come over me. I heard the announcer say that my time was 10.1 seconds. I knew that this was a good time and could possibly win the short go at the State Finals. I sat through the other fourteen calf ropers to listen to no other times faster than 10.1 seconds. Not only did I win the short go but I showed everyone that I was someone to watch.
I had gone to practice, and was proud of my determination. That day, it was bitter cold and the players of all the teams were huddled together, shivering. I remember this day so vividly because it was the first time I placed in a competition. The sky was cloudy and you could sense the humidity. The ground was wet from the night before, everyone despised this setting. The booster club had brought Gatorade, water and protein bars for us and placed them in front of the bleachers. Athletes were already warming up, their faces getting red from the cold. Anxiety starts to set in but it feels good. I started killing time and hung out in the restrooms because it was warm in there. It was time. I started getting ready, put on my spikes, and ran two laps around the track. I stretched and was ready. The announcers broadcasted that the pole vaulters needed to get in place and I quickly met up with my team. I took off my sweats and revealed the skin tight uniform underneath. I was organized to be the fifth person to go. When they were ready for me, I started my routine and was impervious. I set a personal record of five feet, six inches. While that might be a small victory to others, I was on top of the world. My next goal was to beat it and eventually I
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
This meant it was time to start. Our team said a prayer, and then headed for the starting line. As I approached the starting area, I saw the opposing team. They were tall, big, and muscular. I could see the seriousness on their faces. They came to run, and they came to win. My conscience suddenly started to play games with my mind, and I started asking myself questions. “What if I didn’t train hard enough? “What if I am not ready? What if we lose?”
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.
As the Tiger rolled around, there arose a question of whether or not to keep the team together or break it up and give the two seniors a chance to compete in other individual events at regionals. I actually didn't know about this possibility until about five minutes before the race began on Saturday. We were all huddled together preparing for the start. Jeremy came up to Rodney and me and told us that if we didn't do well the team might be dropped. Kicking our motivational drive into high, the four of us focused on only one thing: running the time we all knew we could. Getting into the blocks I felt more ready than ever. At the sound of the gun, I shot out of the blocks. I sprinted around the track, concentrating on making a great hand-off.
Once I recovered I swore to myself I would no longer be bullied by this person. When the next track season began I stood up for myself. I told him that I can not run in every meet this season. He listened to my demands and I felt triumphant. Sadly, this feeling went away at the beginning of the following outdoor season. This time the coach refused to listen to me when I told him I could not run in every meet. I was adamant that if I ran in all of his meets I would be injured and that my dreams of becoming a Division 1 track and field athlete would never become a reality. We eventually reached a compromise, but unfortunately, the compromise was not enough. I pulled a hamstring while running and I fell. If I had just pulled my hamstring I would have been fine, but I had torn my PCL during the fall. The tear caused me to leave another season unfinished. I was broken. I had run track since the first grade and had always wanted to use my success to attend a top-tier school. I have been hugely successful in school, but the success I achieved in track set me apart from everyone
A great amount of excitement rushed through my body as the Olympics were on TV, and the shot put event I had been dying to watch was about to come on. It is only once every four years I get to watch the Olympics, and this was the first time I was excited about this particular event. This event is not something the majority of people are dying to watch, simply because Usain Bolt headlines the sport of Track & Field with his impressive running events. However, besides Usain being the main attraction of Track & Field during the Olympics, the sport has been losing popularity as a whole. In my case, throwing two years in high school, and now as a current college thrower, my personal connection to this event had my emotions running high.
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 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.
I had never really been a part of a team that had a chance to win something, but the potential was always there. I finally got my chance to be a part of such a team my sophomore year of track. Mr. Jones, the head track coach, had decided to experiment with some different races to gain more team points. Since the girls' team lacked a medley relay, he placed Cindy, Kim, Susan and I in those spots. Cindy would run the 400, Kim would run the 200, and Susan and I would start the race off by each running the 100. We all had worked viciously to earn those spots by running off against our teammates.
My seventh grade year started off just the same. But, in spring semester when track season started, everything changed. That's when I encountered the person I admire the most, the person to whom I attribute my success as an athlete and my belief in myself. He recognized a hidden talent in me and encouraged me to develop it.
Therefore, I decided to start training very hard for my next race, even though it was only a small race against a weaker team. I found myself very relaxed and ran a comfortable race. I finished with amazement, because I had dropped my best time by about twenty seconds. For the first time, I had broken the seventeen-minute mark for a five kilometer race. I immediately thought of my uncles; how great would it be to tell them about the race?