“Set!”
I hold my breath.
Boom!
Exploding from my block and gaining speed with every stride, I feel more and more air brush against my face. All the anxiety from crouching back in the blocks is released at once.
I focus on my steps. If I can’t approach first hurdle in eight steps, I will stumble and lose momentum. After four or five steps of acceleration, I stand up tall to prepare for the jump. My strides shorten as I approach my eighth step.
Last short stride! Now right knee up. Lean forward. Leap!
I am airborne.
As I fly over my first hurdle I can’t help but look to the side. There is nobody next to me.
I am winning. I just need to finish the race.
My luck ends there, however. While my eyes drift to other lanes my body twists and stumbles to the …show more content…
The shout offered a rope to flee the vent of despair. With the encouragement I pushed down the hurdle, hopped over the obstacle, and regained my velocity. Putting what had happened aside, I came back to face the hurdles. This time I did not need to convince myself. I gripped my hands tightly into fists and thought of nothing but finishing the race.
As the second hurdle came I took a deep breath and simply leaped. Though I could very well hit the hurdle and fall flat on the ground, I thought about none of that. Flushing the thoughts of embarrassment and humiliation from my mind, my true passion of sprinting returned. With the leap I crossed not only my first hurdle, but also my last mental barrier.
My form was far from perfect, but I have conquered my bane. Finishing the race was the last feat. Every stride, I stretched my legs wildly to make up the disadvantage. Every step I swung my arms, cheek to cheek, trying to accelerate even a tenth of a mile per hour. Inch by inch I closed up the gap. As I leaned into the finish line, panting, the coach approached me.
“Second place. You qualified for the finals. But don’t touch the hurdles next time”
“I won’t touch it again, coach.”
I will conquer
I hold my breath.
Boom!
Exploding from my block and gaining speed with every stride, I feel more and more air brush against my face. All the anxiety from crouching back in the blocks is released at once.
I focus on my steps. If I can’t approach first hurdle in eight steps, I will stumble and lose momentum. After four or five steps of acceleration, I stand up tall to prepare for the jump. My strides shorten as I approach my eighth step.
Last short stride! Now right knee up. Lean forward. Leap!
I am airborne.
As I fly over my first hurdle I can’t help but look to the side. There is nobody next to me.
I am winning. I just need to finish the race.
My luck ends there, however. While my eyes drift to other lanes my body twists and stumbles to the …show more content…
The shout offered a rope to flee the vent of despair. With the encouragement I pushed down the hurdle, hopped over the obstacle, and regained my velocity. Putting what had happened aside, I came back to face the hurdles. This time I did not need to convince myself. I gripped my hands tightly into fists and thought of nothing but finishing the race.
As the second hurdle came I took a deep breath and simply leaped. Though I could very well hit the hurdle and fall flat on the ground, I thought about none of that. Flushing the thoughts of embarrassment and humiliation from my mind, my true passion of sprinting returned. With the leap I crossed not only my first hurdle, but also my last mental barrier.
My form was far from perfect, but I have conquered my bane. Finishing the race was the last feat. Every stride, I stretched my legs wildly to make up the disadvantage. Every step I swung my arms, cheek to cheek, trying to accelerate even a tenth of a mile per hour. Inch by inch I closed up the gap. As I leaned into the finish line, panting, the coach approached me.
“Second place. You qualified for the finals. But don’t touch the hurdles next time”
“I won’t touch it again, coach.”
I will conquer