Race-Personal Narrative

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My breath was steady, but my heart was erratic. I could feel sweat on my brow from the blazing sun. My thoughts too incoherent to hear the official, but I did notice my fellow runners already in their starting blocks. I quickly fell to my knees and pushed my bright orange spikes into the green blocks. I took deep breaths trying to grasp my nerves. My knuckles turned white from pressing them into the track keeping myself steady. All my hard work was being tested, and months of training all came down to one race. “Set!”, the official shouted into the deadly silent stadium. Muscle memory kicked in, and my left leg seemed to have raised at its own accord. I breathed in through my nose and out through my mouth visualizing the race in my head. I …show more content…

A churning in my stomach was begging for the race to end, but the hurdle came up fast. My left leg extended over the top and dragged the rest of my body with it. My right leg snapped down to the track again, and I didn't miss a stride. A rush of relief finally circulated through my body. I kept to a rhythm gliding over the hurdles with ease. My strides were starting to weaken, but all my previous practicing had instilled enough discipline to force myself to continue despite my body's attempts to stop. My body lunged forward over the last hurdle, not as effortlessly as before due to my exhausted muscles. My right leg hit the metal barrier that caused my downfall, and I could feel the bruise forming on my shin. Blood oozed from the rough cuts on my palms, and my knees felt permanently damaged. Falling gave my leading competitors the upper hand, and they seized the chance they had been given crossing the finish line. Swallowing my pride I pushed off the ground and crossed the finish line. I could feel a lump in my throat starting to form. The stinging of tears prickled my eyes not only from the devastation of losing but from the pain in my palms and

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