Alright, alright, alright, I know triathlon’s a weird sport, you don’t need to tell me twice. That’s why I always chose the fact that this is my sport as my interesting fact about me during icebreakers. I mean, who would’ve thought? And I gotta tell you, almost everytime I mention this, at least one person always goes, “what’s that?” or, “oh okay, which one's?” Like no. The second question always amuses me. Because they’re almost there. They know what the word “triathlete” means in a way. Its somebody who does three sports right? And yeah they’re not quite wrong, but they’re thinking of like football in the fall, basketball in the winter, and lacrosse in the spring like how many boys at school do it. Rarely, when I mention that I’m a triathlete …show more content…
When I was four, I did my first splash-and-dash. Needless to say, my little four year old self adored it. I started to do biathlons more frequently. My school did one every year, a 100 meter swim followed by a half mile run around the soccer fields. I remember this so clearly. It was one of my favorite times of the entire year. I was also a frequent competitor in the ____. One of my most vivid memories about this was the time I got second, to a boy who skipped the second loop of the run. I was devastated because I was so sure I had won, but eventually the boy confessed, and I got that ribbon I wanted oh-so-bad. I was always so excited to get out onto the run course I wouldn’t finish putting my shoes on. I was out onto the course with my heels jutting out of the backs of my shoes.
Years later, I was rolling my bike up to the site of my first real triathlon. There was no room in my transition so I propped my bike on my kickstand, laid my towel out, placed my shirt with my bib safety pinned onto it and untied my shoes. That’s right. My first triathlon, I took the time to tie my shoes before hopping onto my bike. The memory makes me cringe. I haven’t tied my shoes in months thanks to my speed laces that I put into all of my shoes. Exactly a year after my first triathlon, I got into a pretty bad habit of crashing or falling during the bike (and
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.
My dad was trying to convince my buddy Perry and I to do the hill climb in Logan, Iowa that was the same day as the race. We both kept telling him no because I didn’t want to roll my new bike down a huge hill and we both loved racing. We washed
It was November 5th, 2013 – it was my cross country league meet. I was running the hardest, the fastest, and with more intensity than I have ran with the first three years of my cross country career combined. It was the hardest course in Michigan, but it seemed easy to me as I practiced on it every other day. The competition was at least thirty seconds behind me as the three-story hill was too big of a challenge for them. The screams and cheering of the crowd fueled my adrenaline and I hit my runner’s high. I had tackled the hill for the final time and the crowd was screaming louder than I have ever heard, which caused me to power up the hill, then I stopped in my tracks. I realized what they were screaming about. There was someone, or something, hunched over my coach’s body. It looked human, but there was something off about the figure. The “thing” turned around and looked at me. It was pale, fit, had red eyes, and was covered in my coach’s blood and intestines. My heart stopped. What the hell? Then, I ran. It chased me. I didn’t have time to think about where I was going or what I had just seen, I just ran as fast as I could and as far as I could get. I heard screaming from the other runners and other onlookers, and when I glanced back to see if the thing was behind me, it wasn’t. I ended up in the parking lot, hotwired an older car (by popping
Completing an ultramarathon a feat for anyone. However, for a 16 year old girl it seemed impossible. So why not? As a varsity cross country runner I am no stranger to running. The contradictory love-hate relationship strains the mind and body like to no other. My Junior year I started falling out of love with cross country, the distances, the races, and the running in general had gotten monotonous. I live by the phrase “You must be comfortable with being uncomfortable.” I constantly seek new challenges pushing myself beyond normal bounds. I wanted to do something incredible, so when I saw a sign for a 50k (31.5 mile) race in a few months I knew that it will be perfect!
I would tell myself to be more competitive. Not with others, as I believe the best way to grow to be a more tolerant and knowledgeable person is by actively seeking out and working with peers, but instead to be more competitive with myself. I would tell myself to never be satisfied with my current limits and to find joy in striving to end each day as a better and more erudite person than I was when I woke up.
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.
In November 2008, I received the January 2009 issue of Runner's World. I was thumbing through it quickly, as I normally do, picking out articles that I would read in-depth later and finding online video links that I would review. While scanning the pages, I found an online article by Dan Koeppel, titled Knot Perfect, (2009). I quickly logged on to the Runner’s World website and was shocked to find out that I was in the 50% who tied their shoes wrong. In fact, I had been tying my shoes wrong for almost 40 years.
Dr. D is a cardiothoracic surgeon. He was my hero. He may well still be, even though he is a throw-back to the days when I was more concerned about science than symbolism.
The sun beating down on my face with extreme heat is compared to the surface of the sun or hell, either way, it's hot.
When I was seven years old I learned how to ride a bike I started of in a less bumpy place then I started in a more crowded area. I remember the feeling of the wind flowing through my hair as I rode. My step dad and step brother were both cheering me on. They yelled for me to fall over because I was rolling toward the road. I fingered the ground that was as hard as a rock. I was fine I just got up and brushed myself off.
Swimming has been my whole life, since I jumped into the pool for the very first time. I loved every aspect of swimming from the adrenaline running through my body during my races and getting to spend even more time with my friends and my sister, and the stress of big meets coming up in the schedule. Except everything didn't go according to plan after the first day of school when I got home and I saw my parents sitting by my sister on the coach and my sister was crying.
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.
“I knew this was bliss, knew it at the time.” These words of Eudora Welty, although expressing her feeling from devouring book after book, can also be applied to my life. While not relating to my literacy, Welty’s lexis nonetheless conveys my own feelings after learning the significance of hard work. I’ve put excess effort in performing the roles of a student, an athlete, and a Christian. Success and growth in each component of my life has taught me the value and necessity of a strong work ethic.
Before that one vault. I was in Sartell Sapphires gymnastics for about two years almost three years. I was always able to do a front handspring over vault by myself my coaches still would stand there Incase I would do something wrong. I would occasionally fail, but not as bad I would bend my arms, or not land it. But their was that one time. Good thing my coaches were standing there she was off to the side a little she had to run up to the vault, and try to catch me she cot me my one arm. If she wouldn’t have been their the injury could have been worse, but I Still fell onto the concrete.
I would classify myself as part of a community that shares a strong passion for sports. When one says that they are passionate for sports they are mostly saying that they are always watching sports, or know everything that is happening in certain sports. Being only interested in one sport does not make one less passionate about sports than a person that has an interest in many sports. On the contrary, when one is interested in just one sport they can devote more of their time to following that sport. I see myself as a person that is mostly passionate for one sport, but has a certain level of interest for other sports.