The skimpy maroon shorts and matching tank top did little to stop a cool October breeze from sapping heat from my body. The teams huddled against each other at the start line, waiting for the go. I stood motionless among my maroon pack as I got ready for my last 5K race for the school. I reminisced to when I found my passion for running. The journey from when I started running to this final race here. The failure I experienced during start of my running career, yet I decided to continue.
Last year, I joined the winter track team. The lack of physical conditioning and inexperience made me suffer in the practices. In my first meet, I was put into the 4x160 meter relay. I was assigned as “the anchor”, the last leg with the responsibility of finishing
I have always loved sports and the competitiveness that comes along with them. In so doing, I have decided to eventually become either a high school or college coach at some point in my life. Subsequently, I decided to interview the Vilonia High School Cross Country Coach, Coach Sisson. As I walked into her office, I instantly noticed all of the trophies and team photos from all of the past years of coaching. She is also the school nurse so her office has first aid equipment intermingled into the trophies and team pictures. While I set up my notes and questions for the interview on one of the desks in her office, she was finishing up a diagnosis of one of the high school students who felt sick. After her patient left, I quickly started the interview in order to waste no time. She began with how she got involved in coaching. The Vilonia School District expressed their interest to her as being the next cross country coach several years ago. She was widely known for her passion for running and she gratefully accepted the position and has been a coach for numerous years now.
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.
Summiting the infamous Spark Hill, I hear the heavy breathing of four runners and the grinding of loose gravel beneath aching legs. As the course levels and veers left between the boys and girls dorms, I accelerate into the lead. Not one hundred meters later, I question my bold strategy. With still over a mile to go, my body tells me that it’s feeling a lot of pain. I decide to push even harder, for this pain is nothing compared to the pain that woke me up one night during spring break my Junior Year.
The moment of truth was upon me. The official times, this includes whom qualified for finals, for the 400m relay had been posted. My eyes scanned the page for the bold letters that spell ANDERSON. As I ran my finger across the page to where the times were posted, my ears began to shut out all outside noises, leaving me alone with the thump of my heart and the inhale and exhale of my lungs. Both began to increase in speed as my eyes narrowed in on the time.
The walk from my warm bed to the shower is a chilly one, and I make sure to pack three extra layers and a hat in my backpack. Fully suited up in my uni, I hop into the car with a breakfast sandwich that I am too nervous to eat. At 7:30 AM in Boston I already see scullers on the river. Now my heart is beating faster than the music blasting through my earbuds. As I stand with my teammates watching some of the best rowers in the world cross the finish line at the largest international head race, I begin to feel warm in 24 degree weather.
He ran around the neighborhood as fast as he could. The sky was pitch black, the temperature was thirty degrees celsius, and the neighborhood looked like a ghost town. He laced up his running shoes and ran for an hour-and-a half. When he got back, he felt so tired that he believed that that was the last time he ever ran. About half an hour later, after resting, he read a book about running for an hour, until it was time for him to go to school. He kept the things he learned fresh in his head so that he could incorporate them into his cross country training. This would be his schedule for six months until he became exceptional: really
Representing Manitoba was one of the most unforgettable experiences of my life as well as my proudest achievement to date, as my team won a silver medal in the 4x400 relay. In addition to our medal, my team broke the provincial record for the 4x400 relay. The previous record set on August 14th, 1979 was 3:47.00, and on August 4th, 2017 we ran 3:43.65. There are no words to explain how I felt when my teammates and I were told we broke a 38-year-old record. What I realized in that moment was that all the hard workouts, sacrifices, and teamwork that went into breaking that record were worth it.
The end of April is always dreary, but luckily this was the first sunny day in two weeks. Daniel and James, the two closest friends in the world, decided to go for a run. They balance each other perfectly. Daniel, the tall, tan athlete; and James, the small, skinny nerd. They could not be any more different, but, both had a burning passion for running, and felt trapped by the gloomy, somber drizzle. They itched to get out and run. The path they always take runs behind Daniel’s house, and through the wooded city park. They took this path because -for the most part- it was secluded, both found it easy to slip out of reality as they ran. The other reason they enjoyed this path was the challenge it presented, it twisted up and around the steepest
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.
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.
Robert Brault once said “where the loser saw barriers, the winner saw hurdles”. Ever since my junior year of high school this has been my modus operates in life and sports. My main event in Track and Field is the 300 meter, you guessed it, hurdles. However, simply devoting myself to live by this “code” was not enough; actions spoke louder than words in May 2015 when, leading my heat of the race, I clipped my trail leg on the second to last hurdle and was forced down into the track at 20 mph. I didn’t get up, I laid on the track in a ball of self-loathing, anger, and pain. I never finished that race, and to this day that is one of my only regrets.
Then, as the season started up I pushed myself at every practice and ran my heart out every race the coach gave me the opportunity to run in. While some races were full of medals and praise from my peers and coaches, others were full of futile effort and frustration. Even when agonizing setbacks happened, my passion kept me working towards better times. After beating out my competitor for a prized position spot, I ended up accomplishing my goal of making state as a part of our team’s 4x8 relay. Completing my dream of competing on Drake University’s beautiful blue track.
I dip my toes in—feels cold. My nerves rise up and spread like fire throughout my body while I watch—while I wait. Stomach hurts. All those butterflies clash and crowd. They come every time that I race—it never fails. There is so much noise—the splash of water, talking, yelling, whistling, cheering.
April 28th, 2015 is a day that I will forever remember. The end of track season was approaching as my team and I were headed to Lubbock, Tx to compete in the regional track meet. on our way to compete in the Regional track meet. at Fuller Field which is located in Lubbock, Tx. I got the privilege to go to the meet that day because my 400 time was fast enough to compete on the mile relay. Unfortunately, I was the youngest out of the six girls so I was put as an alternate. The mile relay is a team of
As a ninth grader, my chances of making the Varsity soccer team were slim, so the test’s importance was intensified. Anticipation and fear overpowered me as the first beep blared. Upon completing each race, coaches crossed off numbers, and the line dwindled. Knowing my mental stamina was as important as my physical state, I forced myself to continue despite my exhaustion. With the last beep, my legs became lead. Suddenly, the team captain, running beside me, grabbed my jersey and threw me towards the end line shouting encouragement between gasps for air. His act jeopardized his time