Race-Personal Narrative

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1 Rowing The wind rushing by my face, the taste of salty sweat, and the drops of water pelting my exposed skin as we tear through the river barely registers in my brain. The effort of slicing my oar nearly gracefully yet mainly just violently into the crystal surface, and me slamming my legs full force to propel the boat fowards is all that manifests my mind. I am being consumed by thoughts of pushing harder, faster, stronger, winning. I am so preoccupied with what I’m doing that I almost fall out of rhythm when I hear the coxswain’s call ahead. “POWER TEN IN TWO,” Oh god Ricky, I can’t go much harder than this. “THAT’S ONE....THAT’S TWO!” The strokes are crawling by, each one feeling like it’s taking a lifetime to complete. Six…Seven. I …show more content…

Relief. Then searing pain. My jaw is being shredded and ripped apart, it seems. The oar is suddenly coated in butter and it slips between my fingers slamming into my face. I grasp empty air and hear frantic screaming from multiple seats. The race is over. You ruined the race. It’s not over yet. In a haze I manage to pry the oar free from it’s spot trapped beneath the water, and I pick right back up where I left off. I realize that while I had lost my oar, the other two boats had pulled ahead. You ruined the race. There’s nothing left inside of me to give. You ruined the race. I pull with all the strengthstregnth I have left. You ruined the race. It still isn’t enough, and most of the boat has lost the determination they had been clinging to so desperately. You ruined the race. As we pathetically cross the finish line, DFLing and breathless, I put my head down in shame. You ruined the race. It’s over. Nothing I can do. You ruined the race. And I realize that we all make mistakes, but that doesn’t mean it feels better at all when we make one. I ruined the …show more content…

This was the toughest part, the heavy old sliding door that led out back to the lake was quite the squeaker and the danger of being caught hung over us like a skunk’s stench infused in the air. I gripped the door so tightly that my knuckles cracked and bit by bit I squealed the door open. The warm balmy air flowed into my face like a gentle wave washingwahing over me, and I could hear the faint splashing of the waves and rustling of the leaves outside. We both squeezed through the door, and I pushed it back shut, the low whine sounding more like an earthquake. Screeeeeeeee. My knuckles were white at this point, and I was barely even breathing anymore, but finally the door shut with a satisfactory click! Realizing that we had both been holding our breath, we let out synchronized sighs. Then, realizing we were safe to make noise again, we let out a burst of gleeful, childish giggles. “We’re out, come on!” Becky said, tugging me along with her as we rushed through the silky green fingers of grass, letting the cool dew coat our toes in the night

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