My breath was heavy, legs numb, I was ready to give up, ready to quit. But as I saw the finish line and fellow sabers encouraging me, I knew I had to finish. For the team, for the coach, and for me. It all started near the end of sixth grade. Mr. Miller announced that we could use the time to sign up for fall sports that we wanted to do the following year in middle school. I was curious about which sports there were and I really wanted to get involved. So I went up to the front of the class to see the options. There were three sport sign-ups. One for volleyball, one for football, and one for cross country. I knew that my mother and her siblings did cross country so I went for it. When I told my family, they were ecstatic. It was official. I was in cross country. But what I didn’t know, was that running was going to become a part of me. And it would help me discover things I thought I couldn’t do. It was like an unknown adventure, and I could wait to start. …show more content…
I never realized how hard it was to run like that. During workouts, I would be last or close to last finishing. I got very frustrated, digging my feet into the track, trying, pushing myself as far as I could go. But instead of getting better, I felt like I was getting worse.Then seeing the older kids pass me by easily just ignited a spark inside me. I felt determination boiling up inside me. So I worked harder, harder than I ever did before. But maybe I was overworking. As I was running, sweat dripping down my face, I felt a sharp pang in my ankle. It was thumping and thumping and I couldn’t stop it. I didn’t know what I was going to