The day was overcast, which made the coaches and runners nervous. This was our final race of the season, and although there was regionals for the older, faster members of our team, this was the last time we would be competing. People were breaking off of the group at intervals, going to the races they had been signed up for. There were periods when there were only a few sitting in our section and others when there were many sitting with us. Although we were sitting there was a lot of energy, not only coming from us, but also from the other teams surrounding us. Everyone was screaming, cheering on the runners that were representing our school, and when they were anywhere near close to the first runner we were up on our feet, clapping and cheering them on.
My races were later on in the day, and I was trying not to think about it too much, knowing id psych myself out. While we were waiting for our races people were doing anything from reading to stretching out. A couple friends and I were looking over notebooks, note cards, and AP NSL study guides, trying to prepare ourselves for the stress of our first AP test. We were quizzing each other, reading passages aloud and blurting out fun facts. The upper classmen were laughing at how stressed we
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got, and the freshmen not taking the AP test were questioning why we would want to do this to ourselves. After a while of studying, laughing and such, my first race came up. I wasn’t too nervous until they started lining us up. Then I realized that this was actually happening, and my heart started racing. It took about two minutes to get through all the girls in front before we got to my race, and by then my I feel my heart beating all over my body, even in my toes. Then when my string of girls got called up I felt complete silence for a second. I couldn’t hear the crowd, my teammates or the other girls. Then we set up, leaning on our fingers, getting ready to race our hearts out, when a girl miss started, and it was all back. The tranquility that I had experienced before was gone. When we set up again, I wasn’t sure about myself, but knowing I would do as well as I could and not any worse. I ended up in third or fourth place in a sixth or seventh string, which I was still proud of, because I know I had done well. My second and third race went well, with nothing very surprising.
Then came my last race. The one that everyone was pumped for, 4X100. The race is run by four people, who each run one hundred meters. About a half hour before the race, when we were warming up, the more experienced runners came up to the four of us and began to coach us. The main thing they focused on was how to pass the baton when transitioning. Because the transition occurs when both people are sprinting it is difficult to execute perfectly. Because this is so difficult I was starting to get nervous. We practiced so many times I knew exactly what to do exactly when and where to do it, but was still nervous because my hands were shaking so
much. I was the second in the chain, and the hand off from her to me went flawlessly. Other teams, however, were not so lucky. The team to the right of us dropped their baton, and another team had their runner trip. I later wondered how I continued to run knowing what had happened to them, but I was so focused on doing well I was not focused on the others teams. When I had finished my running part and gotten to the next person in the chain we tried to do the hand off, but we missed the first time. The second time we went for it she was able to grab it just before we were out of the hand-off zone. After the race was over all four of us met in the middle of the track and were pumped up. We had won, beaten our record, and knew that if the transition between my friend and I had gone better we would have been even faster. Then, just like in the movies, the sun came out.
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.
The reason for my nervousness was because it was the last rodeo of the High School Rodeo season. The last rodeo just so happened to be the short round of the state finals. The short round was the top 15 cowboys out of the entire state. I had qualified 15th out of about 45 other cowboys in the calf roping. That may sound like it was a great accomplishment, but it really wasn't because I knew I was better than at least ten of the other guys that qualified in front of me. I knew myself that I was someone to watch; even if no one else knew.
Throughout the years I have been cheering, all of my family and friends have supported me. Cheering may not be the most traditional sport that my parents may have wanted me to be a part of, but it is the sport that has brought many good memories to me. Making new friends that have he...
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.
The second year of the competition, I was only one of two returning students. I took an active role in recruiting new students, and our membership doubled. It was a complete role reversal for me because all of a sudden I was the experienced team member. We finished fifth out of forty teams at the regional competition, and at the national tournament, we placed in the top third.
Growing up, I played just about every sport our small town provided: soccer, basketball, baseball, football, boxing, golf, you name it. There was only one sport that I had yet to embark upon: running; however, during my seventh grade year, I decided to try it out, and it ended up being a great decision. From the beginning, the one thing that drew me in was the atmosphere. All of the older runners on the team really embraced us younger runners, despite our youth and immaturity. As a seventh grade kid not really knowing what to expect participating in a varsity sport, this gesture really meant a lot, and it is one of the main reasons that I fell in love with the sport. I stayed with this sport throughout my high school career, and now that I am older, I have the opportunity of being on the other side of the spectrum. My teammates and I love having the middle school kids on the team, and I try my best to ensure that they have a similar experience to the one I had just five short years ago.
It was sunny out, but there was a slight breeze blowing the tent around, making it hard to set up. Friday evening was the practice run, where all the riders got the chance to pre-run the course for the race the next day. When the announcer announced that it was my class’ turn to practice my stomach dropped. It felt as if I was going 100 mph and just hit a dip in the road. I felt like it was time to race. I put on my helmet and difficulty strapped the chin strap. It was difficult with my hands trembling. My knees were weak and I felt like I was going to drop my bike when I was starting it. I gave it a good kick and a fair amount of throttle and it fired up. I could instantly smell the fumes of high quality race gas. That seemed to calm me down. I pulled out of the pits and up to the starting line. All of the riders began to start their bikes. The roar of the engines made me nervous. My hands were sweating and my mouth was dry. The official said, “Remember this is just practice, don’t kill yourself.” That relaxed me reminding me that I could just putt around out there having no worries of winning, losing, or most importantly, crashing.
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.
October 25th, the day of the 2014 Beach District Cheerleading Competition and our chance to go to Regionals. I woke up that morning with a knot in my stomach because I knew our time had come. We worked so hard those past three months to perfect our routine; we knew we were ready to win. As we were in the waiting area for our team to get called, my heart was pounding in fear and excitement. While watching the other teams on the projector, which I would prefer not to do. In a cheerleading competition I worry if the performing team is perfect, because the competition is more serious. Just my luck, it's our turn to warm-up. At that point, I'm terrified, my body became numb. I hate when my body does that because I feel as if I would pass out. Our
As the first meet neared, things were going well. I made it onto the 4x100 team making me the third fastest kid on the team. The other members of the relay were Jason Schmidt, Jeremy Willard and Rodney Schmidt. Jason and Jeremy were both the top dogs and Rodney and I were second from the bottom of the barrel.
When I got there I did not see any other girls over there. They called the first heat for the 400 meters. The first heat is seniors and state runners, obviously not freshman who suck. I started to walk away and the person calling the meet told me to come back. I explained to him I'm a freshman and can not go in the first heat. He told me I had to because no one else was going. In that moment I knew this was going to be very terrible. Evidently the race started and 200 meters in I was so behind. I feel like I could not breathe. Many thoughts were passing through my head like faking passing out or maybe dying. I finished dead last and was so embarrassed. My coach was dumb mad they put me in the first heat. I was upset because I never got last and especially since all my friends were there.Many of my track friends came up to me and told me not to worry because I was only a freshman and I could not compete with them. I’m not even sure if that's what they said, I blocked out everything to just focus on my embarrassment and anger. I was internally dying. How did this happen to me? Why me? Call me an overdramatic teenager but in that moment disappearing seemed like a great
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.
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.
Our coach had changed our handoffs the day before we ran, and we had not been used to them. He also changed our 4x400 exchanges to blind exchanges. This means that we don’t look behind us when receiving the baton. These two facts were the ones that worried me the most. Everyone keeps telling me that I should have faith in myself, but I just keep worrying because I don’t want to get disqualified
I believe that by hosting this event, the track team members who ran the meet also benefited. The joy of playing is often lost as sports grow more competitive, and the Special Olympic team was able to demonstrate the joy that should come with playing and doing your best. This event