Personal Narrative: Banks County

Ever since I was little and even now, I have always loved sports that involve running, including track. In middle school when I was in seventh grade, I wanted to participate in track because I knew I would enjoy the sport. Track started in the spring during seventh grade, and the first couple of practices I thought were challenging because of what little practice I had before track had even started. From this point on, I knew I would have to work hard to reach the goals that I wanted to accomplish, and to even get personal records in running so that I could compete in sectional or even state meets that include top runners from every school. I had also kept in mind on what events I wanted to compete in, which were the one hundred meter dash,

Have you ever ran in a cross country meet? I have ran in countless cross country meets; I have been running cross country for eight years now. Every race I run is a challenge, no matter what, because I push by body to its limit. Most people do not consider cross country to be fun. The enjoyable part is definitely not the race itself, but the feeling afterwards knowing that I kept pushing myself when my body and mind were both telling me to stop. Our cross country teams won our first meet of the season, but there is more to the story than just the two trophies we brought back. It was an extremely unpleasant race for three different reasons.

Montreat, North Carolina is a Presbyterian Youth Conference located in Black Mountain. We meet so many new people, we exchange opinions, and we share our difficulties. We become so much closer to our youth group, which for the week is referred to as our back-home group. Montreat is such a safe place. I know I can truly be myself whether I am with my friends or with strangers. There are many activities to do while at the college. We rock hop with our back-home group, which is just walking through the creek to a small pool. The pool is about three feet deep and everyone jumps off this big rock into the ice cold water. It was so cold when we got out everyone was steaming. We would also walk to the cafe in the middle of the campus called The Huck. While I was sitting

What’s the purpose of friendship? Unfortunately, I was forced to learn this the hard way when I attended the ‘Virginia Aerospace Science and Technology Scholars’ Summer Academy over the summer of my junior year. The experience at the academy was unlike any other, but the challenge to make new friends was the most intimidating there than anywhere else that I’ve visited, especially at my own school. Yet, my school holds many of the common and well known people, such as teachers, that I could lean on for mental support, while at the academy had everything but Franklin County. What I meant by ‘but Franklin County’, I am actually referring to the wide varieties of different ethnicities and educational backgrounds that imploded into one single summer

On May of 2010 I went to Kansas City, MO to see my Grandma. This was my first long car ride since I can remember , nine hours going speed limit. First, we were in the rough side of Kansas, mostly because we lost signal and got lost. We couldn’t look out the side of the window or there was a fifty fifty chance we may or may not get shot. My father of course being him , decided to race out of the avenue we were then chased out by a gang. However they did not start a drive by and we made it out safe.

A football flies through the air with the velocity and height of a throw from Peyton Manning and finds its way into the ungainly hands of a four year old, who inevitably drops it. Upset, I pick up the ball again and try to throw it back to my brother. He would always say to me “Andrew, Keep your eyes on the prize and catch this ball”. Although it seemed I would never catch the ball, he never took it easy on me. This repeated process happens over and over again. Until, I finally catch the ball, for the first time. It was an incredible feat. My brother, 12 at the time, ran to me picked me up and celebrated with me. For the next 12 years whenever I am faced with a difficult challenge, my brother always reminds me of the football.

In 2014, I entered my freshman year of high school. One of best friends was on the cross country team and he convinced me to join. I never pictured myself as a runner let alone that I would wind up loving it. I had been in a rut for quite a while before that. I had been sick during the winter and I just didn't get excited about anything. I felt like there was nothing I was passionate about. For the first couple weeks of cross country practice I wasn't so sure about it. I kept at it and eventually I wound up loving it. I loved more than just the running part of it. I also loved the team aspect of it and my coach was amazing. My coach, who's name is Mr. Parks, is the biology and anatomy teacher at my high school. He is a big reason why I've become so interested in the field of biology. Mr. Parks was only the coach for my freshman year and then he retired from coaching. The next year we got a new coach and he's awesome too. I was so happy to have found something to be passionate about. It made me happy again and because of it I started to become sort of obsessed with improving myself as a person.

“Set,” Bang! The gun goes off and I quickly shoot ahead of the rest of the field. My strides long and quick as I sprint for the track. I can’t hear anyone behind me, I must be a good 10 meters in front of everyone else. I run around the track and continue to sprint across the field back to the crowd of parents, friends, and girls soccer players who were forced to attend this last cross country meet of the season. As I continue to approach the group, my mind and body turn numb, Everyone is cheering for me, and I realize that I’ll never experience this again. I’m practically floating through the course, still no other runners are near me. That was the way it would stay, all the way through the 3.1 miles as I crossed the finish line in first place, capturing my team’s second league championship and undefeated season.

Next to the roads, where the sidewalks should be, sit large gutters overflowing from the week’s heavy rains. Often covered with plants and weeds or even entirely submerged, the ditches can be treacherous. One missed step and one of us might find ourselves deep inside a drainage canal. As a competitive cross-country runner in Costa Rica, conditions can be perilous on any given day and on any given run. While “cross country” implies running beyond the comforts of a high school track or gymnasium, I doubt that my peers on the Varsity teams in Fairfax, Virginia, where I lived before moving to Costa Rica, regularly dodge crater-sized potholes or run through tropical downpours for months on end. It is out amongst the elements, with the dogs nipping at my heels, cars racing by me, and men riding horses in the streets that I wonder if I would have been the same kind of runner had I grown up in the safe confines of the manicured suburbs of Virginia? Could I or would I have developed the same stamina, mentally and physically?

For me, cross country isn’t just a sport to add to your extra curricular activities, nor is it an “easy” sport to join just because you want to be considered an athlete. Cross country is way more than that. It is a lifestyle. It is waking up every morning at 5 a.m., running countless miles until you can’t feel your legs anymore, having no days off, and having to sacrifice plans with your best friends because you have practices and races every weekend. I saw dedication every time I saw my sister grit her face with determination as she forced herself through the finish line. It was then I realized I wanted to do just that, so I committed myself to cross country.

On a foggy, fall morning sand filled the air which was no different from any other day in Oklahoma.There was no sign of sunlight for many miles.Houses that my friends once lived in were demolished by tractors,hoping mine wouldn’t be next.Unfortunately,soon it would be demolished.My friends have left their houses and moved to open land because of the Great Depression.Familys couldn’t afford to live on the land that they were once on.I am sick,sick and tired of hearing my parents go back and forth yelling until my house begen to convulse,and not because of the yelling.It was another dust bowl.Little did we know the worst one yet.

15-50, the most lopsided score all year. As the last place team running against last year’s State Champions, we knew we were going to lose. The meet resembled David and Goliath except Goliath would most certainly win. We went into every meet knowing we were going to lose, but that was irrelevant, because to us, cross country was more than just the final score.

I remember it hurting, so very much. It stabbed at me hard; I couldn't comprehend it. If only I had been more careful, more attentive, I could've prevented all of it. One of the most devastating moments in my life happened to me was all because of a simple mistake. One little slip-up caused all of it, and it all lead to a catastrophe. It all happened on what I thought would be a fantastic day: the 1st Annual University Interscholastic League A+ competition. The very event I had trained for. The opportunity that would let me earn some academic recognition. I had prepared for months then, going to after-school practice and spending hours of my time memorizing and learning. Of course, I still broke the rules, and paid the price, but at the end of the day, I gained something out of all of it. I learned an important value in life, and it stills sticks with me to

Many important life lessons come from being in sports. The race I remember most from Track is my one of my very first. Although I do not recall what team we were versing, I recall the moments before my race. As I was warming up, I was very nervous and excited. My confidence level was high, because I believed in myself. As I got into the starter blocks and leaned forward I could feel my heart pounding. My teammates supported me a lot since I excelled in sprinting. When the gun went off, I made notes to myself to use my arms and when to look up. No one was in front of me. The cheering of my teammates only made me run faster. When I crossed the finish line, there was more cheering. My breath caught in my throat when I realized I had won. Life lessons I have learned from Track include encouraging others, good sportsmanship, and there is more to Track than just winning.

I had a unique beginning to organized running. I may be one of a very small handful of people that can claim that their first high school cross country practice was on the same day as their first high school cross country race.