The once dreaded 200-meter dash was now a fond memory of mine to hold onto. Each and every muscle in my body was crying out. I had already whipped through the first 100 meters, and the home stretch was waiting, arms wide open, for me to snag a win for my team. You could feel my heart pounding like a drum getting faster and faster. At the same time, little sweat droplets were getting hit by the cold breeze coming into contact with my warm skin. I knew there was a crowd, but all I was zeroed in on was the faint yell of my coach. “Run, Lauren, run.” Subsequently, I pierced the rough black top even quicker with my sharp spikes like arrows into a target, hitting the bullseye with every step I took. As I zipped all the way through the finish line
