Hard work
Sophomore year of track and field brought me one step closer to achieving my dream of becoming the fastest sprinter in Missouri. The previous year was my first time competing in this vigorous sport. I was very confident in my ability to race against top-tier runners because I have been involved with sports all my life. Soon enough, I ran my first race and was absolutely annihilated. All I remember was the dust other runners left behind while I frantically tried to finish the race. I was left in awe from how talented these athletes were competing. I was inspired and determined to match their level of athleticism. From that day onward a plethora of countless hours were poured into researching effective training methods, diets, and running
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This meet was considered exceptionally prestigious as only a limited amount of varsity runners are able to compete in the race. After practice the day before the race my coach pulled aside to inform me that I was going to be competing in this upcoming meet. As he is delivering the news, sweat is beading down my forehead and the lack of oxygen made from practice made it hard to take in the moment. My heart was beating a hundred times faster than normal as I realize that I am receiving a chance to showcase my hard work and dedication I have constructed for myself. I suddenly start reminiscing about the absurd amount of hours clocked in for this exact moment to happen. My debut freshmen meet was a huge reality check, but I was not going down so easily this time. I was determined to be the one leaving my opponents in the dust. As I walk away nothing, but a giant smile covered my face. Competing in a varsity meet once again had only been a dream of mine. I pictured myself starting the race with the baton in my right hand, rounding the final curve maintaining top speed in first place ready to pass to my teammate. The original team obliterated every opposing school they raced. I was ready to take part in shredding the track and receiving a gold first place …show more content…
I felt extremely nauseous and nervous to run because I was afraid to disappoint myself and the high standard the original 4x400 team had consistently met. Race time was upon us as I walk toward my starting blocks in complete focus. I did nothing, but stare down the lane ready to blast off. The ref signaled, “READY, SET,” *BANG*. The gun shot off and I darted out of the blocks like a bullet from a gun. I storm through three-fourths of the lap, not a person in site. As I rounded the curve my legs all of a sudden felt as stiff as tree trunks. Opposing schools started closing in on me as my gas tank was starting to deplete. I crossed the finish line to pass the baton to my teammate and immediately got off the track and just collapsed on the rough turf of the football field. I was exhausted and could not commit even one brain cell to the race. After climbing my way back onto my feet a great green bile withdrew from my mouth as I vomited proudly, knowing I put all my effort into the race. I was able to comprehend what was going on around me and found out that we took first. I was one step closer to reaching my end goal of becoming the fastest runner in
Walking into Walnut Hills High School right now would have anyone thinking the just walked into the middle of a tornado. Everyone you look there are students running in and out of doors, in and out of cars, and most certainly either turning in missing assignments or retaking tests. There is only one way for you to explain all this ciaos, Senior Year, the year that all teens await with so much excitement and ambition and the year that every single hour long study dates pays off. For the class of 2021 this isn’t just their final year at Walnut Hills this is the year that friends separate and head off to their different university to follow their dreams.
I was told that this, my junior year, would be the easiest year of my high school career. And no, they were absolutely wrong. It was not just school and grades that I was concern about either. I had other things to worry about, things like, driving, clubs, friends and family. I however had no idea that it would be this difficult. Throughout this school year I have learned many things; like the value of sleep, whose really your friend, and that although very important, grades are not everything.
It was an early morning in mid July. The grass was still soaked in dew, and my eyelids were heavy with exhaustion. Me and a couple of my track teammates piled in our car to make the drive to Marquette where we would run our first ever half marathon. Out of the three of us I was the only one who had never ran distance competitively, so I recruited my friend Blake to run with me because I knew I could not keep up with Isabelle and Aimee. The half marathon was just one of many events being put on for the Marquette trails festival, and just after our race there would be a mountain bike race. The run started just at the bottom of Marquette mountain and made a three leaf clover up and around the mountain. There were about fifteen people running this
The course is weird, it’s a two lap which is good. This means you know exactly what the second half of the race was going to be like. Me as the 4th runner, and the 3 and 5 guys, went single file for a good ⅜ ofa mile and we were zooming around corners. during the back half of the race, I was really close to medaling. I went as fast as I could, I had no idea how fast the race had been, I thought when I saw the teens clicking by it was a 19:teens but I got closer and it was 18:17 I was astounded and straight out of breath. That race we were 4 points behind the 2nd place team, and they were in our district. That set us up for a good week and effort during practice because if we had a race at the district race, we were going to make it as a team to state,which is the goal all season long. I was not feeling great that week and I thought it was going to be like my first xc race finishing with a 16:02 time for 2.x miles and a lot of girls beating me. The morning of race day, I felt like crap, but the bus ride nap to maryville made me feel fine and ready to secure a spot to state. There was a lot of scepticism from the seniors, who were facing their last
He we go. Just me and myself now. I can write whatever I want and Mrs. Wesbecher can’t read it. To this point I have wrote about a lot of fun things I have done throughout high school, but that was just the PG version. Sophomore year is when things really began to heat up. One day over at Alex’s we found the key to his parents liquor cabinet. We did exactly what 15 year old guys would do, took some sips and wow did we think we were badasses. Looking back opening the cabinet taking a few sips and locking it back up really quick was quite comical. One night during Sophomore year it was Alex, Cal, and I, Alex drank a lot and we started to walk around town (no license yet). We walked around town for a long time with Alex’s sloppy ass. After a while
I ran faster than I ever thought I would. It was a regular Thursday meet, and I was running varsity that day as a freshman. I had never gone through this process before so everything that happened that day took me by surprise. The insane course, other runners, and the intimidating fans all made it something worth remembering. I saw everything from runner's fainting, the after race vomiting, and the crying from pain. That did not have an affect on me as I found myself gaining confidence every time I moved my feet. I kept passing other runners and my immediate thought was “did I go the wrong way?” or “did I miss a turn?.” I did not know that running came easier to me than it did to other people. Maybe it was the hard work I put in at practice
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.
Pounding, rushing footsteps started to close in on me. The roar of the crowd echoed, as I extended my hand to receive the baton that signaled my turn to run. As I tightly wrapped my fingers around it, I felt the wind rush around me, and my tired legs started to carry me faster than I ever dreamed possible. As I rounded the final stretch of track I remember battling fatigue by contemplating two paths: slow down and give up my chance of winning to gain momentary comfort, or push myself even harder and give up momentary comfort to receive greater rewards later. I chose the second path and later held a trophy that represented my perseverance and hard work. The years of running - consistently choosing the second path - have taught me discipline and perseverance. These qualities will help me cross a different finish line and achieve a new goal: becoming a doctor.
I love to run hurdles, but unfortunately last year, little pulls and strains prevented me from running to my full potential. One Thursday, we had a home track meet against Lake Stevens. For the first time I was in pretty good shape for my race, the 100-meter hurdles. I began jumping up and down partially to stay warm, and partially to let out some of my excitement. By this time, I had butterflies in my stomach and the adrenaline was pumping. The starter asked us to 'Take your sweats off and stand behind your blocks.' 'Runners take your marks.' Hands shaking, I crouched into the starting blocks. The gun was up. 'Set!' 'Bang!' I bolted out of the blocks. I was way ahead of the other girls when suddenly, I realized I didn't have enough speed to carry me over the next hurdle. Gathering all of the strength I could, I grabbed at the air in hopes of guaranteeing clearance. I had just brushed over the wood when my foot hit the ground and my ankle gave out. I fell. I heard a gasp from the crowd and the other racers' feet pounding past me. I got back up. I had never gone over a hurdle with my right leg first, but I did after that fall. Sprinting as fast as I could in between hurdles, I found myself basically bunny hopping over the rest of them. My goal was to cross that finish line and to be able to say that I did the very best that I could, even if I didn't look very graceful along the way. Although it might have seemed like a bad day, I was proud. It was the first time I had ever fallen in a race, and not only did I get back up and keep running, I managed to place second.
It was a sunny summer day when I decided to participate in a dirt bike race at a local track. I have been practicing for weeks, honing my skills and preparing for the adrenaline rush that comes with racing. Little did I know that this race would turn into a near-death experience that would change my perspective on life forever. As the race began, I felt the familiar rush of excitement as I sped down the track, maneuvering around sharp turns and jumping over obstacles. I was in the lead, feeling confident in my abilities.
I attended every conditioning session and practiced diligently, often being the first to arrive and the last to leave. Entering the track season as the fastest on the team, I embraced the role of mentor to many underclassmen. I became a staunch advocate for those struggling in their primary sport, encouraging them to try something new. Our relay team’s achievement of finishing third in the state was a testament to our hard work and determination. This success opened doors for collegiate sports, and I chose to continue my track journey at Wingate
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.
We were behind by about 5 seconds going into the 3rd leg (my leg). I ran my fastest time all year, running harder than ever because I wanted to help our team as much as possible. Not only my 4x800 team but also the whole track team, as for we were a top contender to win conference and every point counted. I made up the gap almost entirely leaving our last runner to finish and win us the race. I have such a high regard for my teammates that when racing, I am almost never racing for me and almost entirely for my teammates.
Sophomore Reflection Sitting at my desk I breathe heavily to find I had just crammed an entire essay in one night, not a moment I was proud of. I was stuck, the conclusion was always the most troubling for me. I remember my teacher saying summarizing would be a waste of time but I didn't know any better.
I worked all season to conquer this course, and this would be the year that I would defeat it. The race started and I pushed hard into one of the top twenty spots. I knew the race was almost over once I passed by the starting line onto the second lap of the race. I raced past the spot I twisted my ankle junior year, past the spot where the dog always barks from the house between the trees, past the spot where my team danced to the newest hit song on the warm-up; I never made past the hill. At least fifty parents and coaches were standing at the bottom of the hill when I hyperextended my knee. My leg felt broken, so out of panic, I yelled for help. I did not know that yelling those four little letters would change everything. I was picked up and put in an ambulance while my mom and I cried; I needed to finish the race though. The EMT had to put me down and let me finish. He had to. I screamed for him to put me down, but my coach came and told me it was too late; I was immediately disqualified when a parent from Jasper picked me up to move me off the course so that I would not be trampled. The race ended without one runner… me. The only way I could continue my running career would be for my whole team to advance, so I waited for the result and cried until there was nothing left. My coach cried when he handed me the results; my team did not advance. It was over. Everything I worked so hard for meant nothing. The early mornings seemed like a waste, the last nights coming home from meets seemed pointless; however, I had to be strong for my