Personal Narrative: The Tough Mudder

I along with my family moved to Canada in 2004, this was the biggest and happiest day of my life. I had great expectations for my future; since living in Pakistan, I understood that Canada was a land of opportunity. Unfortunately, due to the earthquake in Pakistan on October 8th , 2005, we had to move back to Pakistan since we had lost members of our family as well. The move back to Pakistan at that devastating time was very hard for myself and my family. My father enrolled me to a school in Pakistan since we were going to live there now. The school system in Pakistan just did not seem right anymore, I missed my school in Canada which I had attended for just a year. I struggled to live in Pakistan for three years and in 2008, my mother decided

Wind absorbing through my chest, heat running through my veins, the adrenaline rush. I step up to the line, ready to conquer the unknown, and every noise, even the sound of heat hitting the telephone poles, goes to a halt. All I can hear is the beating of my own heart, uncertain of what is to come. Then, out of nowhere, there is a forceful stampede of athletes, all having the same goal of not getting trampled. Brown smoke is arising from the earth's surface, making me gasp for air. Once it calms down, I see the other runners and their pony tails bouncing side to side, making me go into a trance. Unlike any other thing that I have done before, the sport of running has pushed me to the limits and has made me work with others to achieve the title of running at the Cross Country State Championships, which our school had never done before.

A member in my family has an illness, not like most illnesses that come to mind, such as cancer or other diseases. This illness affects my family 's lives. Most people don´t understand how it can affect others, but it does affect like how most sicknesses do. Many people suffer from this illness. This illness is called alcoholism.

My dad was as sick as a dog and laid on the warm couch on a freezing winter day. I ever so slowly went downstairs to ask my dad if we can go skiing. I thought for sure that my dad would say no. I went to the couch where my dad was covered in layers of blankets. I slowly asked my dad if we could go to Pando to ski. He, in a choppy voice said ‘’Ssssuuuurrreee’’ He said in a very tired voice. First we went to the bunny hill where we got some help on how to ski. When I grabbed on to the rope to take me on to the hill my gloves ripped and there was a big giant hole right in the middle of both gloves. Once we got up there I looked down terrified. I could see the nice glaze of the snow down the hill . I shut my eyes and slowly went down. I felt the

I don’t recall having a hard time learning how to read. It was one of those things that just came easily to me for some reason. For the most part I enjoyed reading as well. The only time I didn’t enjoy reading was when I didn’t understand a certain word or a certain phrase. One of the strongest memories I have from learning to read was when I was unable to pronounce the word “the”.

Failure is not easy to cope with. Failure gives people a sense of apprehension, a lack of confidence that they are not capable of achieving their goals. Although it does not feel the best at the time, this is where success is made. Starting off my ice hockey career at the age of 5 I met many new faces and did not realize at the time that one sport would have such an impact on my life. Through the ups, and the downs, ice hockey has taught me how to be a hard worker, contribute to society, and most of all, how to handle situations when the tide is against you. Here is where my journey, and also the most dreaded part of the year comes, tryout season.

I stared into the dark sky, taking a deep breath. “Tonight...tonight.” I breathed out loud. This past week i’ve felt jittery inside my stomach, holding back the smile i’ve wanted to show. Tomorrow was the day it all happened. I held my legs to my chest and thought about all the good things that could happen.

Albert Einstein once said, “Life is like riding a bicycle. To keep your balance, you must keep moving.” Although I was not born with the best bike, I have learned to pedal through all the hardships—and that has made all the differences.

Lani: I was helping for someone’s project for COMM 245; I was in the video lab, in the studio. I was on campus and decided to contact everyone I knew who comes to the school. I remember I sent out a snap saying guys I think there is a shooting, be careful and then I started sending out individual texts to people making sure they were okay, like hey are you good? Stay out of an area. I didn’t know how many people were getting shot. I just knew it’s not good and that we have to be careful. At first, the campus was like we are unsure, just be careful, and then it took some time till I finally got an email that said stay on campus and were held there for about two hours, I just kept recording.

The Tide detergent bottle gradually moved back and forth, as my father’s elbow creaked, refusing to cooperate. “It’s my own way of physical therapy, you see,” my father boasted. “If I keep it up, I think I’ll be able to move my elbow by the end of the month.”

"Sometimes we need someone to simply be there. Not to fix anything, or to do anything in particular, but just to let us feel that we are cared for and supported."

The allure of nature has never failed to astonish me. Climbing steep mountains, going through the woods, listen to the water splash and birds sing had always been my dream. On Sunday, September 20, 2015 this dream turned into reality when I went on my first hike to Mt. Rainier. Indeed, I felt a sense of triumph reaching the place where I never thought I could with fatigue and stress of knowing that I have to get back over the same rough trail. My legs were severely sore and my lungs were congested but today when I look back on it as an epic expedition, a wide grin appears on my face and I believe it will continue to do so over the rest of my life.

In the beginning of 2001 I was a SGT in the 82nd Airborne Division, by January 2002 I was standing in front of the Battalion Commander’s desk being read my second Field Grade Article 15 in seventy days. I was being demoted to Private First Class, being sent to Correctional Custody in Camp Lejeune, South Carolina for thirty days and being moved to a new company when I returned. The first field grade was for disobeying a lawful order from three senior NCO’s, the Brigade CSM, Battalion CSM, and my Platoon Sergeant. They had all told me in the same day at separate times to get a haircut and I failed too, the second was for stealing from the company supply room while on extra duty from the first field grade.

While I reflect back on Round Three and my experiences with the program itself, I have conflicting feelings. While I feel that I have accomplished more than I assumed I would, I concede that I could have achieved more for the communities I served and for my team. While I remain the finickiest eater on my team, I consumed and appreciated foods that my younger self would not have even considered. I also had the opportunity to witness and experience endeavors that I never thought I would. One of these was hiking up a 14,000 foot mountain. This might have been one of the more difficult activities that I have done in my life in regards to challenging my capability to persevere. When I received news that the team would be working with the American Red Cross, I became particularly excited since it would offer additional work and experiences about disaster and emergency relief. I

I have always aspired to be good at everything that I do. No matter what task I was tackling, part of my objective was to be good. While there is nothing wrong with being good at something, this focus began to cause everything that I did to only be good, never great. I became complacent of where my abilities were and prevented myself from anything special, anything but ordinary.