I had been running track all through high school and was just about to start my senior season. I had never been great, but good enough to make states last year in the middle distances. Up until this year our only coaches were your typical, out of shape, over the hill, middle aged women who only coached track because they were either mean old biddies who liked to boss around young women or were athletes themselves before they let themselves go and now wanted to relive their fantasies of victory through our hard work and sweat. This spring though, things changed. We had a student teacher that offered to help out with the track team.
Finally when senior year hit, I knew my gym days were going to get longer, and I was going to push myself harder. You never really hear of people going for their dreams anymore, and I was determined to reach mine. Cheerleading became my heart and soul, and I found my happiness in cheering on a victory in front of overwhelming crowds that most girls would be terrified of. I would be exhilarated after landing a hard tumbling pass, while most kids reached cloud nine after receiving a new high score on a video game. Then there was my favorite, hitting a stunt all of your friends thought was impossible.
Although I am a member of many diverse communities... ... middle of paper ... ... had found my vocation: sprinting. Entering my sophomore year I found myself replacing an injured runner on the varsity 4x100m. After showing marked improvement all season long I hit a hurdle that prevented me from bettering previous times; had torn my left quadriceps. Remembering my commitment to my teammates I limped through the wind and rain to practice daily. All my hard work had led me to the the starting line of a regional qualifying race; where my team would ascertain whether or not we would qualify for states.
During my warm up, freshman year, I was lost in the crowd of everyone and was afraid to be myself. The first mile, my sophomore year, I worked out some of my nerves and started to become myself. Junior year, the second mile of my high school race, I worked on myself and really decided on the person I wanted to be. The last year of high school, my third mile, has been one of the best years to date and leaves me hopeful for the future. The “race” that is high school has been one of the most unforgettable races I have ever been apart of and is just a small portion of the race of my
As a hurdler for County High, I stumble upon some pretty tough obstacles each time I race; the same is true in life. Everyone encounters obstacles, but in order to overcome them and succeed, one must never give up. 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.
My hands get clammy and emotions are running wild. When they call my team we all run out frantically and realize there's one last chance with this team, one last chance with this routine, some athletes final shot at the state championship! The lights gleam bright and it is time to do my job and put faith in my team to do the same. Two minutes and thirty seconds go by and that's the end of it all… walking off the mat knowing I did the best I can do and the rest is in the judge's hands. Sitting at awards, waiting desperately as they call each team third, second, and first place goes to Carrollton high school!
I started running when I was a senior in high school. I made it through the first couple of races all right, but began to get angry at myself because I was not improving at the rate I had wanted to. I was very excited for the season and often found myself distraught when I did not do well and I could not understand what the problem was. I always assumed that if a person runs fast one day, he/she should run faster the next day. In addition to the internal pressure I put on myself during my tenure as an athlete, I felt a lot of outside pressure.
(prefontainerun,1998)When the summer came Pre trained diligently for the next season of cross country, he ran early in the morning, and sometimes more than twice a day. (Jordan,1997) His hard work and determination paid off. "It was at the district cross country meet his sophomore year that his potential to become an outstanding runner showed itself," said Pre's high school coach, Walt McClure. "We were against the defending state mile champion and the boy who would become the state high school champion. There was maybe a quarter mile left to go when this little guy in purple passed them (the group of runners leading the race) and took a short ... ... middle of paper ... ...oulevard and crashed into a rock wall.
Both began to increase in speed as my eyes narrowed in on the time. My sophomore year had begun and I wasn't sure whether or not I was going to do track this year. Last year I played football in the fall and soccer in the spring. Not really enjoying it, the decision was made to play " real futbol" (soccer) in the fall, leaving the spring sports season open. My friend kept telling me how fun track was, so I decided to give it a try.
Cheerleading - It Was Our Year! Running the same routine over and over since August 14, 2004 and it is now October 6th. Bodies are aching, feet are sore and we all feel as though we have been beaten by a 200 pound boulder. Cheerleading is our passion and we love to do it, but by mid September we were all ready to quit. Practice Monday threw Friday from three o’clock to seven, and then eleven until two on Saturdays!