State Track
It was wet and rainy to start the day. As I walked off the bus and into the huge stadium for the final day of state track I was already nervous. This was only my second state track meet ever because I was only in eighth grade. For the past few meets I'd been doing really good at the meets before so I was very excited to race. I knew that if I ran my hardest that I could win. I just had to keep doing what I had been doing. There was a lot more competition than at a normal meet. Also it was very slippery from all the rain so this made me even more scared.
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
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worse the meet was delayed about an hour because of the rain. My mom wanted me to come over to her so she could give me a quick pep talk. My mom asked “Are you ready?” I replied “I think so.” Mom exclaimed “Just do your best.
You can do it!”
It was finally time to run. As I got in my lane all I remember thinking about the time I false started so that freaked me out a little. Everyone there was watching, at least that’s how it felt. Probably because it was the first race. Then all of the sudden it was go time. Next I had to set up my blocks. I was ready to go.
“On your marks... Get set... Go…” yelled the person shooting off the gun.
The next thing I knew I was running as fast as I could. I was about half ways done and I couldn't see anyone ahead of me. I had to keep pushing. As I crossed the finish I knew I got first. I was so happy.
After the race it was time for awards. I went over the metal stand, and they handed me a gold medal. I stood in line to get on the award stand. Many of my teammates and even some people I didn't know congratulated me. I remember it as was they called my name up for first
place. The announcer announced“And in first place only an eighth grader from West Central... Averi Schmeichel.” I was so proud of myself. My team and family were too. I had worked really hard all season for this. This was my goal since the beginning of the year. I had just achieved my goal.
I picked up my starting blocks and walked over to the white line along with the seven other girls right beside me. I rubbed the bitter cold from my arms, and took a deep breath. I went to work setting up my blocks, dropping the footholds into the slots that fit my specific measurements. The starter announced that we would have two more minutes to take some practice starts before he would call us to the line. I got down in my blocks, rose up, and finally sprang out of them, just as well as I had been doing in practice the day before. I could not have been more ready for my eighth grade Mid-Southern Conference track meet.
I woke up at six to shower and eat breakfast. We were out the door and 6:30 and off to Ashland, Nebraska. We had the hammer down only stopping in Ashland to grab three Red Bulls apiece. We chugged our energy drinks while driving a couple miles out of town to the raceway hoping to get awaken by the rush of the sugar. We parked our truck by our buddy Jacob after getting signed in and paying our entry fees. We made fun of Jacob for awhile for being such a die hard and having to be one of the first ones at the track. Setting up our canopy and unloading our bikes took about 5 minutes because we wanted to hurry up and walk the track. The track was a freaking mud pit. They had overwatered it. I was hoping that it would stay a little muddier after practice until the moto’s because I could out ride three-fourths of the guys in my class in the mud. After the track walk we all walked back to our trucks and got our gear on. The C riders were first to practice. The first kid to start up his bike just revved the piss out of it not letting it warm up like it should. We started shaking our heads because our dads taught us to respect your things and not mistreat them. Leaving our little camp
I took a deep breath as I walked my horse into the Greeley Stampede Arena. I told myself just to "relax." I loped a circle around the arena to make sure that my horse was warmed up and ready to go. He was ready but I was starting to get nervous. I stopped in front of the roping box to put my piggin' string in my mouth. I looked at my calf in the chute to make sure that it was number 33, which was one of the best calves out of the whole set. It was, and I was ready to ride into the box and rope my calf, or attempt to rope my calf. I began to get more nervous, more nervous than I ever had been at a rodeo.
During the race, I experienced a side cramp and it was uncomfortable. I was thinking about why I signed up for this and how I don’t have to be here running. The race was painful, but I did want to give up. I came to practice everyday and I wanted to keep improving.
The rest of practice was pretty normal. I even shaved thirty second off of my five mile time! Which would’ve been great if I didn’t have this major pain in my chest the whole time. Weird. . .
I would wake up every morning and run, always thinking about my regimen, and always using every mile as inspiration for the end goal: qualification for the State Finals in November. I ran 600 miles that summer. Inexplicably, though, I fell off towards the end of that season. At the conference meet I struggled to finish, and at the regional meet (the state-qualifier meet), I had to drop out. I remember getting in my parent’s car for the long drive home and closing my eyes and finally letting it all out. Warm tears fell down my face. How could this happen to me? I thought. Whatever happened to the saying “hard work pays off,” that is preached by the famous athletes and teachers? I had worked incredibly hard, and I was sitting in our car after a race in which I was unable to finish. Here is an example of one of the low lows of a runner. This was probably the lowest of lows for me. But two weeks later, after the fervor of cross country was over, I was running again. No one told me to, it was simply the resilience of a runner that was hard-wired inside of me. That winter and then later that spring, I qualified for both the indoor and outdoor state finals for track. And the next year, I was able to qualify and compete in the finals for cross-country. That is the amazing thing about running, and about life. Failure is always happening at inopportune times,
I make sure to wash my bike, make sure everything is working properly, and that it is spotless clean. I also make sure to get my clothes ready for when they call me up to the podium and go to sleep extra early because I know I have a very important day the next morning. It is finally race day! “This is where all my hard work pays off” I think to myself. On the way over there I am listening to my favorite music and I am feeling really good! I have not even started the race yet and I feel like I have already won it. I am warming up until they call my category up to the line that’s when I start to get butterflies in my stomach. The countdown started and we took off. The pace was nice and steady, in some parts we really pushed it, but I was able to hold on and maintain the pace. Cycling is all about strategy and working with your team, so that is exactly what I did. We played it smart so none of us will fall behind. The closer we are getting to the finish line, the more confident I feel. I still have plenty of energy for the sprint and in my mind no one can beat me. The last miles mainly consist of long hills, but with the right technique that’s no problem. Five more miles toward the finish line when it happen… I got a flat. I could not believe it, I felt the bike slowing down and in my head I was think “please don’t be a flat, please don’t be a flat.” When I turn and check I slightly had any air left. I quickly got down and looked for help but no
and waited for my turn to race. Little did I know that my first race would end up in disaster, a blown engine. All of the hard work and dedication. towards my car seemed to be a futile effort because of the bad results. & nbsp;   ; After we pushed my car back to the pit area, we took apart the engine, looking for the problem. I immediately found it to be a bent cam.
As I started, I read the first prayer and thought about how I had come so far from practice to perfection. When I got to my torah portion, I was accompanied by an old man that was supposed to help me and make sure I was on the right line of hebrew. I held my yard, it was silver with ornate cutouts and had tiny bells hanging from it. For the second part, I used a green one with crystal grapes on it, that my sister insisted I use. When I finished the last prayer I was relieved, I did it yay. All of my family congratulated me and I was so happy, knowing my family was proud. I felt like I deserved five Oscars for my performance. I also was excited knowing Jack Stein is a true
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 felt a rush of relief and joy while speeding down the hills. When I found out that it was cardiac hill, my heart started beating fast. I assumed that I would take forever to reach the end, but I did satisfactorily. The first time running up, it seemed it was a long way left. Once I arrived at the end, I was heavy breathing with sweat dripping down the side of my head and I could feel how red my face was. When I was told that we were going to run it a second time, I was determined to push harder and receive a better time. A mental block was stopping myself from reaching the finish line faster. On the way down, I did not feel it was as long as I had believed. The second time up my goal was to improve my time I pushed to not stop even when my legs were hurting and I was breathing heavily. In the end, my time was faster by forty seconds. When I finally made it to the end, I wanted to pass out, but I know that means that I pushed more than the first time. Something that kept me going was reminders to strive for the goals that I had set. If I did not attain the goals, I would have felt disappointed in
On your marks get set go! As soon as I heard the ringing of the starting gun I took off, I could hear the wind whip around me as my arms and legs cut through the air. It was my first track meet and I had started it off great, I was in first place and no one could stop me. No one or nothing could stop me, that was the mindset that I had, but later in the race I would soon realize that I was wrong. While I was running I felt my pants slip and when I looked down, my shorts had fallen. At the moment I stopped running and I faced the crowd, I was so embarrassed and all I wanted to do was runaway. I thought about giving up and getting off the track but instead I pulled up my pants and I continued to run. I held unto my pants while I raced to the finish line and I succeeded and still got first place. My only mistake was when I reached the finish line I let go of my shorts and then they fell again.
As the hot wind blew over the runners on the start line, I started to jump up and down in preparation for the imminent race. We were at the first cross country meet of my junior year, and nerves were abundant. I readied myself at the start line and I began considering my success in past years. The first two years of high school passed quickly, and I tried to recall the rapid improvement I experienced. The coming year was different; with other commitments to consider, I was worried my running career would suffer.
I was to run the 100-meter dash, 400-meter dash, and to throw shotput. Shotput and the 100-meter dash flew by, not striking me as too important. When the 400-meter dash came up, I was dreading it. A whole lap?! That was crazy! I got into my starting blocks (I hardly knew how to use them at this point), and waited for the commands. “On your marks. Runners set. BANG!” The gun went off and I flew around the corner. I was full of adrenaline. I ended up winning my heat and getting sixth place overall. I remember getting into the car with my mother and saying, “Thank you for not letting me quit, Momma.” She had to laugh at that, because she had been right, like
I replay the moment I reached the finishing line over and over in my head. The crowd cheered for the runners as they frantically shook cowbells to give us the last boost of energy. When I crossed the finished line, I felt a huge sense of relief. I was incredibly relieved that I was finally done with the marathon after being on the road for six long hours. I was more relieved because I proved my self-doubt wrong. The road to fighting self-doubt was long and exhausting. But, I look back on my experience and say that I am much more than my