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BITTERSWEET BY ADRIANA
RAYBOULD, JOHN F KENNEDY MEMORIAL HIGH SCHOOL, BURIEN, WASHINGTON.
It began when I was young; days of running around the track with not
a care in the world, yet wishing that people would somehow agree to
design every track with a smaller circumference for the sake of all
humanity. The sport of track and field, for me, has always been a
challenge. It is a struggle, yet it can also lead to personal
victory and success. To me, it is the greatest test of individual
motivation and because of it, I have learned so much. From
reflecting on my personal experiences, I have learned to grow and
change, taking with me microscopic lessons that permeate from such a
simple sport into my life. It is easy to see where hardships have
appeared and I have learned because the sport of track and field,
for me, has always been bittersweet, but I wouldn’t change it for
the world.
Bittersweet Lesson Number One: Don’t try too hard!The year was 2008, and it wasn’t even a league, district, or state
meet, but I had placed first in every meet before this so I was sure
this meet would be fine. Every sprinter lined up on the 100 meter
starting line, the gun fired, and we all started sprinting. About
half way down the track, however; I could hear that I was
neck-and-neck with the runner next to me. We struggled until we each
leaned to cross the finish line, each fighting so hard to win, but I
leaned too hard and ended up falling and skidding on the turf,
ramming my spikes into my leg."At least it looked cool..", I thought
to myself as my coach bandaged my leg up."Did I win?", I asked,
confused and exhausted. With a slight smile on his face, my coach
patted me on the back, and we both walked back to the stands. My leg
is fine now, but I still have the scars of over determination, both
mentally and physically, learning that I came in second to my rival
by one-hundredth of a second.
...I said they should have just rounded her time down and I'd
settle...
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Bittersweet Lesson Number Two: Do not consume nachos before a
Hershey’s track meet.
The year was 2003 in Wenatchee, Washington. The air was a scorching
105 degrees the shade, the sun was blazing, and my friend and I were
ravenously starving before the races we were scheduled to run
through the Hershey's Track and Field program. Our personal trainer,
Coach Allen, took us to the nearest town center so we could buy some
"sprintin’ food", as he called it. He urged us to buy carbohydrates
or some sort of protein, but considering how loosely defined "sprintin’
food" was, my friend and I decided to take full advantage of the
situation. Not long after I found myself seated at an Abblebee's
ready to order. We ordered one huge plate of nachos with salsa, sour
cream, and peppers. After devouring the large plate, we stepped back
outside into the blazing sun, realizing that our meet was in about
an hour. Staring blankly to the ground, with her eyes wide open, my
friend proclaimed that she was in drastic need of some Pepto-Bismol.
I seconded that.
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About an hour later, our races were approaching and Allen was
starting to worry, asking why we were just lying face down on the
blanket in the stadium’s grass he provided rather than stretching.
He urged us to go and prepare, and we did. Our races were called,
and we still placed decently, but we both confessed to each other
that the whole time we were running, we really just wanted to finish
the race as fast as possible so we could have a nice visit to the
nearest bathroom.
The lessons of life are learned best through experience, and I feel
that I can say the same though my track and field career. Through
ridiculous circumstances, delicious yet vengeful nachos, and my own
personal struggles with balancing determination with success, I have
learned to accept and love the bittersweet sport that track really
is and I wouldn't trade it for the world.
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College Sports Scholarships
Track and field athletics in
the United States dates from the 1860s. The Intercollegiate
Association of Amateur Athletes of America, the nation's first
national athletic group, held the first collegiate races in 1873,
and in 1888 the Amateur Athletic Union (which governed the sport for
nearly a century) held its first championships.
Fall Into
Glory By Anon Runner. I passed one girl. I accelerated
faster with unbridled passion. I passed another, mentally pumping a fist
of victory.
Track
And Transition By Jeronda Womack. Academics, track, and the coping
with changes in my life has helped me to know who I am. I am the type of
person whether I win or lose a race that will keep perusing the short
and long term goals that I set for myself.
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