Undergraduate / 'I strum a G chord on my instrument'; UC Prompt #2 - Learning a guitar [9]

Word Count: 328 (prompt #1 is 639)

This essay is just a rough draft. I still have much work to do on it before I turn it in. I hit writer's block on it, and it's difficult staying within the 1000 word limit for the application. I also have a question on the UC application: Are you supposed to space/indent paragraphs?

Prompt 2: Tell us about a personal quality, talent, accomplishment, contribution or experience that is important to you. What about this quality or accomplishment makes you proud and how does it relate to the person you are?

I strum a G chord on my instrument. It sounds so majestic; note sings in my soul. I never want the sound to end. I look at my rough and calloused fingertips. Ah, the memories! These calluses are my trophies; they represent the pain I endured over the years. I challenged myself and marveled at the work I put into it. Playing the guitar the last two years has been a great achievement of mine.

My fingers strike down on the metallic strings. Two years ago I never truly had a hobby. My parents never encouraged me to attain a hobby until I was a teenager. Since I had friends who have played the guitar, I decided to follow in their footsteps. Learning the guitar has come with many challenges. My first challenge was my parents wanted me to earn my guitar. Over several months I toiled endlessly with chores and menial housework. On my birthday, my parents wrapped an oddly shaped present and handed it to me. What they handed to me was a beautiful guitar. The guitar was a supple red-toned masterpiece. Earning that guitar took precious work. I learned the value of hard work and dedication. I still cherish that guitar today.

Learning to play was a difficult challenge. When I arrived at the guitar studio my first day, I was surrounded by numerous contraptions for many instruments that I could not even pronounce the name of. Luckily, my teacher Ryan took me under his wing and became a wonderful teacher and a great friend. He led me through months of frustration and nipping pain in my fingertips. He explained to me how everyone endures the same difficulties and it would soon pass. Being committed I am glad I listened to Ryan and did not give up, because now I am quite skilled at playing.

Learning to play an instrument has been incredibly rewarding for me. I have been taught skills which I will carry with me the rest of my life. By learning guitar, I have not only learned a new instrument, but I have learned valuable lessons of commitment and dedication; lessons I will carry with me the rest of my life.

Undergraduate / 'Burning legs and Seaside Invitational' - UC Prompt #1: Cross Country [5]

My legs are burning, and my arms are going numb. There are two competitors ahead of me and there is only a half mile to go. I have to pass them; I must push myself. My tread intensifies, while my steps elongate. Only a quarter of a mile left, there isn't much time. I see the finish line. The pain stops and victory begins in one hundred meters. My heart is thumping while I gasp for breath. My mind, body, and soul are stronger because of the commitment I put into cross country. I have become a more successful person.

Cross Country changed the way I live my life. I never expected to join the cross country team. I only joined the team off a whim. On the first day of practice, I felt threatened because I lacked running experience. The idea of how tough this sport is frightened me. I figured that I should not be intimidated by the seasoned runners and I should stick it out. Day after day, the workouts tried to break my spirit but I never let them. The practices were not what mattered, it was the races. Every race I feel a rush of adrenaline that nothing else in the world could match. Cross country is my affection; it is the way I escape reality. When I put on my uniform and begin the race, all my daily struggles melt away.

On one of my regular two-hour grueling practices, I had plenty of time to think. I decided to give myself some lavish goals to break. My most important goal was to break sixteen minutes in a three-mile race. At the time, I was running on average eighteen minutes. To me, it felt like breakneck speeds. Sixteen minutes is such a brisk pace it sounded impossible.

My strong work ethic and determination allowed me to race in my first varsity meet. My first varsity race, at the Woodbridge Invitational, was very nerve racking. Luckily my other six varsity teammates kept my spirits high before the race. They kept telling me how a varsity race was no different than any other race. We stepped onto the chalk line as the sun just struck above our heads. The gun went off, and all the runners swept off the starting line. I forced myself to compete among the other runners. "This is it," I thought to myself, "I am going to break sixteen minutes this race."

Alas, it was not to be. I finished almost a minute slower than sixteen minutes. My failed attempt at achieving my goal brought sorrow to my soul. My heart was sore from disappointment. I knew in my mind I could break my goal, but I required more experience. Every I forced every ounce of my strength went into my workouts.

At my second meet at Seaside Invitational, I lowered my expectations for the race. In that case, I would not be as disappointed in myself. At the crack of the gun, the crowd begins to roar. There was something unusual about this race. I was toward the front of the pack. My body was not in the constant ache I had become accustomed to. My body was telling me, "I must not be pushing myself, I want to go faster." My pace quickened and my strides lengthen. The miles ran, the hundreds of dollars spent on running shoes, the months of work and practice, this was my time to shine.

As I cross the finish line I glance at the clock. It reads "15:58". I nearly trip over my feet from excitement as I walk to the scoreboard to confirm my time. Once again the electronic scoreboard read "15:58." I fall to my knees in both exhaustion and gratitude, and I laid there in the dewy grass for at least 10 minutes. I jump to my feet in excitement and race back to my team's tent.

If I did not take a chance and join the cross country team, I would not be the successful person I am today. I still get butterflies in my stomach knowing disappointment is possible, but the memories of my achievements edge out the tension. I take my stance, ready to jump off the starting line, and the starting gun fires.