“HUMMM,” I could hear the sound of the bus as it tore down the road.I sat on the bus cramped in-between my friend, Christian, and one of his friend’s, Ayan. They were talking about something, but I was too nervous to talk (or pay attention at all for that matter). We were on our way to our third cross country meet of the season. The reason I was so nervous was because last meet I had finished 18th overall, or second place sixth grader, and now I felt an overwhelming needed to finish at least 18th overall. Thoughts kept on running through my head like I was pushing so hard last meet! I don’t think it is possible for me to perform as well this meet, I just got lucky last meet and the other runners must have not performed as well, and that’s why
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I passed one person. Then I passed another person. Eventually I had passed a good 10 or so people. I started to make the turn to break for the finish line when I noticed something odd; no one was ahead of me. I slowed down, then noticed that everyone was turning to run a second lap. I slowed down to a steady jog again. Although I was tired, I prepared myself to run another lap, and then sped up to a faster pace.
In what seemed like only 30 seconds I was almost finished with the lap, and still no body had passed me (I had held my place). I started to sprint. I kept on telling myself push through, hold your place, because I knew that for some reason I could never seem to muster up enough energy to sprint hard enough at the end. Despite being tired, I managed to work up to a sprint, with my legs quickly pushing off the ground, and propelling me forward. I crossed the finish line. The lady handing out the cards looked at me. “You came in 7th” she said. I couldn’t believe it, that was 11 place higher than I got in the last meet. I pumped my fist in the air in jubilation.
It must have been the extra sprinting I had done I thought. I had forced my body to push harder than I even knew it
I passed one person. Then I passed another person. Eventually I had passed a good 10 or so people. I started to make the turn to break for the finish line when I noticed something odd; no one was ahead of me. I slowed down, then noticed that everyone was turning to run a second lap. I slowed down to a steady jog again. Although I was tired, I prepared myself to run another lap, and then sped up to a faster pace.
In what seemed like only 30 seconds I was almost finished with the lap, and still no body had passed me (I had held my place). I started to sprint. I kept on telling myself push through, hold your place, because I knew that for some reason I could never seem to muster up enough energy to sprint hard enough at the end. Despite being tired, I managed to work up to a sprint, with my legs quickly pushing off the ground, and propelling me forward. I crossed the finish line. The lady handing out the cards looked at me. “You came in 7th” she said. I couldn’t believe it, that was 11 place higher than I got in the last meet. I pumped my fist in the air in jubilation.
It must have been the extra sprinting I had done I thought. I had forced my body to push harder than I even knew it