When at the age of five, my parents began to experiment with and place me in many different activities. The first activity was gymnastics, which was a complete failure. The gym instructor would lift my body to the high bars so I can get a feel for it and in that moment I knew it wasn’t for me. The second activity my parents decided I should try next was track and field. Track was fun at first, I actually like to run and I was pretty fast, I believed. When I joined the track team the season was going to begin soon only giving me three weeks to prepare myself for my first track meet.
I trained for a while thinking I was decent ready for what life has to throw at me, then the day of the track meet arrived. Arriving at the stadium I was shocked to see how behemoth it looked. Before my race I did my warm ups while watching the other kids run there races, with the few hundred spectators, at that’s what it felt like in my five year old mind. The spectators were fanatic after a race which was something new to me, being my first official competitive race. The whole aura of the stadium was something I never felt before and it was exciting, until it was turn to race.
While approaching the starting line preparing to run the 400m dash, my nerves started to get to me so I gave myself a prep talk. If I remember correctly I told myself to run full out and smoke these other kids. At the starting line I was ready and so was my competition, we sat there silently waiting for the gun to go off. In that silence I continue to give myself the same prep talk, I was pumped and I felt like I was going to win. The gun finally shot and racers began a mad dash to the finish line. The first 50 meters I was doing great, still running with the other.
Then came the 100m point the track began to feel much larger than what I was used to, still running with all my might. Then came the 150m mark my legs were dying, I was slowing down still trying to run. And then there was the 200m mark I stop because I had no more to give. I was frozen as I watch the other runners run to the finish line. I was on the track alone, I started to walk to finish line only being half way there. I felt like such a looser I wanted to cry, but I couldn’t because everyone had their eyes on me feeling like a dam about to burst.
This was probably the most embarrassing moment of my life as I was on that track. I was about to walk off the turf and not finish, but then I started to he rhythmic clap from the audience and I knew it was for me. At that moment | started to jog to finish line. I had two forces fighting within me one wanting me to give up and there wanting to keep going forward and not letting people down. If the audience can put the effort to cheer me on, the least I can do is finish. I finally finish and I have never been so happy to finish something in my life.
When I saw my mother | burst into tears, asking her If I can quite running. She allowed me to quiet and I was longer running on the track. That race was probably the most terrifying and monumental race of my life. Even though I gave up running track and field at the moment, my mind set changed I believed I began to work harder after that moment in my life. I try to be more prepared for things so I never have to have that feeling of being such a loser. And this doesn’t mean I need to be in first place every time in everything I do, I just need to always finish strong to the end.
Later in my life a couple years after the incident I decided to track again, and this time I was prepare. I was a long distant runner who could out run most people when come to endurance. I wouldn’t always be the fastest person on the track but I would be the last to give up because I would rather pass out then to give up. I qualified for state where I placed 18th in the 1600m and 21st in the 800m. I have come a long being that kid who couldn’t complete a 400m. I am grateful I experience what I experience when I was 5 because it made me who I am today.
