All of my friends in my elementary school believed me I was perfect. Off course, I was anything but perfect, but I was outstanding at what were important to be popular in elementary school. I was the fastest every time I ran. I got the highest score at every test. I was always making jokes to let everyone laugh. My friends and teachers regarded me as a naturally talented kid by the outward impressions, but they did not know how much effort I put in to be what they called a genius: running in a park after school, doing muscle training in my home, preparing and reviewing every lesson before going to bed and always looking for something funny to talk to my friends. To make sure, I did all of these just because I wanted to be better at everything …show more content…
One day in my elementary school, when I made one mistake on Kanji test, which was really rare, my classmates and even my teacher were shocked at what had happened in front of their eyes. “How on earth Genji made a mistake in kanji test!” The hubbub in the classroom clawed my heart and made me feel shaky, which amplified my obsessions. These obsessive characters I acquired in the early stage of my life made me harder to live normally. I was always anxious if I was not making any mistakes. My life was depressive, but as the time went …show more content…
Keeping on doing rehabilitation for 6months, I finally came back to practice; however, my body was completely different from before getting the injury. I could not catch up with my teammates. I fell from the top of the team to the bottom. “Is there any meaning to continue track & field? ” “What am I running for?” “Why am I feeling so pity?” I started asking essential questions to myself. To find the answers, I looked back my life. Then, I realized that I had been possessed by obsessional ideas since childhood. I had been missing my true intention to be better at everything, but instead I had been trying to please everybody around me, which must be impossible to do. Moreover, I realized that I was thirsty for praise from others. “I am not running to be faster than others to be praised. I am just running to be faster. Although I am not able to run like I used to, I can still improve myself.” Finally, I rediscovered my belief and started to move forward again. It was at the very last meet that I finally broke my “not injured ” record. Having seen myself struggling for a long time, my friends and coach were extremely excited to see me breaking the record. My heart was filled with soft and warm liquid, which was the feeling of true confidence. “You gave me a hope” My kouhai, who had been suffering from injuries like me said to me. It was the happiest moment in my life to make someone
Cross country has helped me with my transition from childhood and adulthood by teaching me that success is earned through hard work, determination, and leading by example. That's what I did after my first bad race, I worked hard and continued on my quest and showed my coaches and my teammates that I could lead the
I magically picked up my sports shoes again, finally decided to continue my run. And when I finally went back to my team with Coach Chavez, I 'm even more determined that it 's indeed an unexpected luck for me to meet such an inspiring coach who led me to the eventual realization about myself, how I was encircled and almost suffocated by my narrow ego which I looked upon as wisdom. With her, I recognized that in the running towards one 's pursuit, only with the commitment and efforts to one 's utmost, victory could be achieved. And now, as I look up to those athletes, not only that I no longer detest their opinions, I too, join their camps, looking forward to run once again to my heart 's content, with the beginning
The connections made with my coaches and teammates, my understanding of race and body size, and the medical obstacles I faced through athletics, altered my view of the human body, especially my own. These
After a few days of rest, I was still in pain. I began going to the chiropractor three times a week. The chiropractor would always massage my hip muscles and couldn’t figure out exactly what was wrong. I spent the rest of cross country season only being able to practice occasionally. I was only able to run in four meets that season: two at the beginning of the season and two at the end.
That’s when I knew I could beat him. I ran even faster and harder. I turned a corner and I saw the finish line insight. I sprinted as fast as I could. I finished the race with the best time I have ever run by a landslide because I challenged myself.
When I was in elementary school I wasn’t the brightest kid. In fact, I always got B’s, C’s, and sometimes a D at school. Despite getting that score, my parents rarely got mad at me. As a kid, I would always wondered why my parents never care about it, and a lot of time I would think to myself that none of my parents is actually care about me. Going home from school, I got jealous of my friends that got picked up by their parents.
After years of practice, I progressed in the sport and joined my high school team. Initially, running track was a way of escaping the stress from my parents’ divorce. It taught me to endure more pain than I could have ever imagined. With each grueling stride, my mind would fight my aching body to quit. However, I would always find a way to stay determined and keep pushing forward.
As soon as I scraped my sweaty hands into the dirt and pulled myself up to go face my team a startling realization occurred to me. This loss, this heart-shattering defeat, was the ultimate test. Would I let it pull me down, or would I struggle to my feet and come back even stronger? After all, running must mean something to me if this failure hurt so tremendously, I thought.
It was first day of middle school, my mother used to pick me after school but now wasn 't able to so I had to start riding the bus. I 've never road the bus to my house before so I was scared. Once the bell rang for school to get let out I walked outside along with the other kids to find my bus, 210. I spent about 20 minutes looking for my bus
A huge number of kids that are going on to junior Think the won’t be able to survive, most of them are scared to come because they fear that they won’t have enough time between classes, Not opening your locker, and lastly they fear that they will be squashed or pushed by the 8th graders! These are the steps on how to survive middle school. When I came to middle school I was pretty scared to but I survived! The first thing I had trouble with was that I couldn’t get my locker open, every time I tried I couldn’t open it
In the duration of my middle school years, I maintained excellent grades, except I had just one issue that held me back from a satisfying life. That issue was the fact that friends came very hard to me in my middle school years. Before my struggles at my middle school, Trafton, I had a very productive social life in the Elementary school I attended, Roberts Elementary. Here, it was very easy to make friends and have a great social life, since no hard work was required as a kid. Middle school, however, was a great challenge for me.
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,
INTRODUCTION In the book Forrest Gump, the protagonist’s mother tells her son, “Life is like a box of chocolates, you never know what you’re going to get.” Whether reel or real people, life has ups and downs for everybody. Some moments are sweet, some bitter, and some turn out to be the kind of bitter-sweet that bring a smile upon one’s face on recollection. A person can neither comprehend nor control the order in which they will experience these events but rather hope that the hard times are short and great happiness awaits them at the end of each staccato burst of sorrow.
For many years I was interested in becoming the greatest soccer player in the world but I practiced only like once every two weeks. I started noticing that all of my friends were surpassing me in soccer and becoming a lot better than me. I asked myself, “how am I going to become the greatest soccer player in the world if I rarely practice and all my friends are becoming better than me?”. I told myself that I would become better than all of my friends again and that I would practice everyday for three hours.
Despite a few setbacks over the years with injuries, our passion for the sport allowed us to endure through the pain. My relay team and I did not let these setbacks impact us from reaching our goal, and with the determination of our tenacity, we were sprinting