With my sapped body completely drained at 6:30 a.m., a sudden thought comes to mind: 'Why am I doing this?'. There was a glare from the rising sun entering my bedroom. The room itself was musty, and it was almost as if the humidity in the air from that morning could suffocate me. I am hit with inertia as I start to open my eyes in my snug warm bed. Beads of sweat were dripping down my forehead. It was a hot day, but I still decided to cover up under my blankets. Despite my urge to call in sick, I managed to rise and join my fellow track team after school for meticulous drills. Track and field is a sport that requires nothing more than your body, a will to become great, and a fiercely competitive drive to push you over the top. People can run, but it takes years of practice to run with efficient technique and optimal power production. Sprinting issued a mind-over-matter output for me. Every day I strived to do better than yesterday’s maximum, which ignited a burning ambition inside me. Every time I pass the track down at the FDR I’m reminded of my first track meet. And in this essay, I am going to share my memories.
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I was still in middle school at the time. I’ve always admired the runners I see on the television during the Olympics, and in my mind getting on that track would give me a feeling that I belonged here and would show my talent. I still remember the feeling I had on my way to the event. I was extremely excited, but I couldn’t shake the feeling of these butterflies in my stomach and the feeling that if I didn’t win I wouldn’t be accepted by anyone. I still remember the feeling of pure exhilaration and anxiousness I had felt simultaneously. I remember what felt like crowds of people watching, I felt like the world's eyes were on me. I didn’t really socialize before the race, I came to handle my business and prove myself. I still remember getting down in my starting pose and being so nervous that I thought I wouldn’t be able to move. The weight I felt over me felt as if I had two ginormous cinder blocks on each side holding me down. However, as soon as we were told to go, my legs and arms just began to move on their own, I wasn’t even aware that the race had started for a few seconds. What was nervousness became pure euphoria. I was no longer worried about who was in front of me or behind me, I was doing this for myself now. I crossed that finish line with the conviction that no matter if I wasn’t first I still mattered. I wouldn’t break out and become a sore loser. I would salute the boy that came in number 1 and knowing that there was still room to grow and become number 1 drove me further and further.
This track is where I realized I have boundless capabilities as a human. Some days, the air is humid and unbelievably hot, and surviving practice seems like an unachievable goal. On other days, the coolness strips my esophagus dry. Through shin splints, aches, and unfavorable weather, I developed the most important qualities that I had lacked throughout my life - confidence and determination. I started to become aware and proud of what my body was capable of doing. Every day I am faced with challenges and every day I take on those challenges with the courage and dedication I developed from the middle school track. I have become determined to become a better person than I have ever been before and I believe that I can walk down my path and take on the challenge of anything that comes my way in the future.
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Middle School Memories of My First Track Meet: Personal Narrative Essay.
(2023, December 08). Edubirdie. Retrieved April 28, 2024, from https://edubirdie.com/examples/middle-school-memories-of-my-first-track-meet-personal-narrative-essay/
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2023 Dec 08 [cited 2024 Apr 28].
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