Wait a second!
More handpicked essays just for you.
More handpicked essays just for you.
Methods of stress management essay free
Stress management theories
Key components of stress management
Don’t take our word for it - see why 10 million students trust us with their essay needs.
Recommended: Methods of stress management essay free
Bright lights blind me and the mumble of loud cheers fill the room, but I am too consumed in my own thoughts to process what anyone is saying. My heart is pounding out of my chest as I take long deep breaths to calm my nerves. “In two minutes and thirty seconds this will all be over,” I remind myself. Then, the loud “ding ding” sound comes on and I snap back to attention as the music blares through the speakers. I put on my biggest smile and perform the routine just as I had practiced for months beforehand. Running off the blue mat hugging and laughing with my teammates is one of my happiest memories. No matter what place we took, we knew we had done everything we could to win. Waiting for awards that afternoon was one of the most stressful
To make it even harder to focus, we could hear the music of another guard’s performance throughout warmup. I encouraged my team to stay focus on how we want to perform. As we prepared to perform, several girls began crying and hugging as if we were already done. I talked to each girl I passed and told them that it was time to focus and to show this crowd how good we are. That performance was the perfect ending to the season; it was everything we had worked for. However, we weren’t done yet; we still had to fold our floor, put away our flags, and get ready for the awards ceremony. On our way to put away our equipment, one of my girls started crying and apologizing for a mistake she had made, afraid that she compromised the show. I told her immediately that whatever score we made, we earned it as a team. I comforted her with my own struggles of perfectionism and feelings of inadequacy, but those feelings don’t necessarily reflect our
...e bus and off we went. As soon as we arrived we were told that the kick off would be in ten minutes. After a quick warm up we were ready. My hands were shaking, heart pounding but I couldn’t wait to start. When the game started my nerves escaped from my head and I was focused on the match.
The team was ready, we had been working extremely hard for the past seven months for this. We were all in great shape and very rested. A few of the returning players were meeting me at my house to carpool to the final game of the state championship tournament. Everyone knew that the hard work had paid off when we won the semi-final game the preceding day.
The time is quickly winding down and his team needs the victory to win the dual meet. He holds on to his opponent's legs, tightly gripping as the time slips aways. There is a moment of silence from his teammates, interrupted by loud cheers from the opposing team. The match is over. His head droops off his body, as if all his convictions rest upon his shoulders, too heavy to bear the lost.
Billy Thompson and Sam Westfield were similar in many ways. Since a young age they both has excelled at sports and both loved more then anything, the sport of football. While growing up, the boys did not know each other and probably thought they would never have too. But all of that changed with the diagnosis.
Just an hour before, I had arrived to this battleground, stepping off of the bus with my teammates. All of us feeling the same nervousness in the pit of our stomach just at the site of the arena, infested with filthy rats with different colored jerseys. Anticipating the events to come, I jog up and down that magical field, taking in anything that I can use to my advantage.
CLAP, CLAP, CLAP, CLAP, echoes through my head as I walk to the middle of the mat. "At 160lbs Aidan Conner of La Junta vs. Rodney Jones of Hotchkiss." All I can think of is every bead of sweat, every drip of blood, every mile, every push up, every tear. Why? All of this: just to be victorious. All in preparation for one match, six minutes. For some these six minutes may only be a glimpse, and then again for some it may be the biggest six minutes of their life. Many get the chance to experience it more than once. Some may work harder and want it more than others, but they may never get the chance. All they get is a moral victory. Every kid, every man comes into the tournament with a goal. For some is to win, for some is to place, others are just happy to qualify. These six minutes come on a cold frigid night in February at a place called the Pepsi Center. Once a year this gathering takes place when the small and the large, the best of the best, come to compete in front thousands of people. I am at the Colorado State Wrestling Championships.
Growing up as an only child I made out pretty well. You almost can’t help but be spoiled by your parents in some way. And I must admit that I enjoyed it; my own room, T.V., computer, stereo, all the material possessions that I had. But there was one event in my life that would change the way that I looked at these things and realized that you can’t take these things for granted and that’s not what life is about.
A calm crisp breeze circled my body as I sat emerged in my thoughts, hopes, and memories. The rough bark on which I sat reminded me of the rough road many people have traveled, only to end with something no one in human form can contemplate.
I was the 8th person out of probably 20. The benefits of being the recluse I was that I knew everyone but they did not know me. Right next to me was John Grady. Now he was the buff-ist kid in Junior High school, built like a linebacker, all pure muscles. among kids that looked like Steve Urkle. That had not hit puberty yet. He weighed about 50 more than I did and I was dead petrified to get in that ring with him. But I knew at that moment that it was no or never and I wasn’t going to let my anxiety get the best of me. I had to believe in myself. When John stepped in the ring he was confident he was going to win, I was confident he wasn’t. As soon as Enrico blew that whistle. my arms wrapped his neck, slanting my hips I flipped him over. I don’t know how I did it but in seconds John was on his back and legs out of the circle. There was dead silent in the room, for a minute then the guys started Whispering , some of them yelling “did you guys see that”, “Does this kids even go to out school”, “Who is that, I haven’t seen him before” one kid way in the back hollered “we might win state this year”. I was just excited I was able to beat someone. I lasted 5 people before Ian Culley bounced me out the circle; he’d been one of those people who’d been wrestling his whole life so I really didn’t care. At the end of practice Enrico sat us all down “This team is your family for the next 3 months. You have to help each other out in order for everyone to compete. Not we were going to do this at the beginning but I forgot. I want you all you introduce you’re self to your team”. One by one they took their head-gear and stated their names, “I’m Ian Culley, no introduction needed” he said arrogantly. “I’m Mack”, I’m Sunga and this is my brother Muganza“. ”I’m Tyler Peter“. this went on until me, I slowly peeled back my confidence along with my head-gear, ”I’m Patience“. for the
I first stared down my opponent as I walked to the center of the mat. I glanced at him I got the feeling that I was probably stronger than him so I knew I would need to make the first move and go strong in the beginning. We got to the center of the mat and the referee gave the signal to shake hands and at that moment I knew I was ready. I isolated my mind from who was around me and only saw my opponent in front of me. I started getting angry in my mind and thought to myself “It's either going to be him or me who we be victorious.”. As we shook each others hand, I squeezed my hand as hard as I could and can feel that he did too. The whistle blew, our first instinct was to lock arms and get a feel for each other and test our
The nerves are raging, mainly in his stomach as the butterflies flutter till no end. "Is everything ok? Will everything go as planned?" He couldn't stop thinking about what might happen. Images were racing wild as he thought about his teammates going to battle without him. He couldn't comprehend why he had to let them handle it on their own. He has played with them since they were in eighth grade, and when they need him the most, all he can do is sit and cheer. He hates this feeling of helplessness, but at the same time he knows he has to do what little he can do, well.
After our victory, we head over for pictures to be taken. My eyes start to burn from all of the flashes as if I had stared at the sun for too long. We raise our hands to the sky to honor Mr. Leeder and his family. I know he would have wanted to witness our victory, and a part of me thinks he did. The trophy has so much shine I can see my reflection in it. The happiness I feel is incredible. I have never felt anything like it before. I begin to get a big smile on my face, jump around, and hug my teammates. I know it is just a game, but it is a great way to draw a close to our senior year.
Hitting the ending pose of my synchronized skating team’s program at the 2017 Mozart Cup in Austria, I felt my eyes well up from joy and pride. Crying of happiness is a peculiar oxymoronic phenomenon, one I have so far only experienced through my skating career. Reflecting on my nine-year skating journey from stumbling around at my local rink to this moment - winning my first international competition as a member of the Team USA - the exhaustion disappeared from my limbs and was replaced by exhilaration.
I will never forget my first day of sixth grade. I was so scared thinking to myself that I wouldn't know what to do. It was seven-thirty in the morning when I got out of the car and stepped out onto the concrete of my knew school. I started to get clammy when I saw all of the big kids coming out of the building. My knees began to knock and I said to myself “I cannot do this.” I heard mom say, “Close the door and just go, you'll be fine.” for a minute I just stood there looking at the building and then I said, “goodbye, see you later” to mom. As I walked up the pathway, I took a deep breath and thought, “here does nothing”.