Undergraduate / UW MADISON unnoticed essay- Cross country and social anxiety [4]

I came across a storybook the other day that my dad once read to me at bedtime: The Ugly Duckling by Hans Christian Andersen. Growing up, I always associated with The Ugly Duckling because I lacked the grace, beauty, and social skills of my three older sisters. I used to listen as high schoolers appeared through the doorway of our house every Friday night, while I was upstairs as a third grader learning equations for my accelerated math class. My family praised my accomplishments in school, but what they never knew was that I would have thrown away all my "success" in a heartbeat if I could have been just like my sisters.

I once was a shy person around unfamiliar people, overcome with anxiety when I was required to tell the waitress my two-word dinner order at Chili's. I was chained by the dread that everyone was judging me. Consequently, I relied on the observations I made of my sister's lives to learn how to go about talking to people and making friends. As a result, when they left for college, the Ugly Duckling was lost endlessly swimming in a lake of awkwardness and confusion in every social situation she encountered. In high school I was left to start over in the social aspect, but cross country became my savior.

I joined the team because I was still persistent on being just like my sisters, which included participating in all the same activities them. During my first day of practice freshman year, I apprehensively advanced towards my new teammates. After my long trudge forward, I recognized a few faces from junior high, but I did not have the confidence to approach them. Working up a sweat and standing alone in the midst of the stadium bleachers, my anxiety urged me to flee from the array of faces. Then a girl approached me and introduced herself. I still felt a bit intimidated by the myriad of strangers around me, but my new acquaintance was also a freshman and invited me to run with her. As practice went on, I met many of her friends and by the end, one hundred strangers were not so strange after all. For the first time in a while, I felt as if I belonged somewhere. My new friends helped me physically throughout the season, by motivating me in practice, but also socially, by familiarizing me with several new friends.

Although my four years on the team are over, I know I have made friendships that will last a lifetime. Cross country gave me the confidence to be a leader and break my social anxiety, but most of all; the wonderful friends I have made gave me the self-worth to believe in myself and pave my own path for the future. My three biological role models may have been my downfall in the social sense, but in the end, I am thankful because I would not have found cross country without them. I am much different from my sisters, but I love the person I have become. I have made my debut as a beautiful, graceful swan, fully transforming from my life as the ugly duckling.

Undergraduate / I AM A LOSER; Common App essay (a time I overcame failure)- CROSS COUNTRY [2]

Please provide feedback for me for my Common App essay :) anything would be much appreciated!

Prompt: Recount an incident or time when you experienced failure. How did it affect you, and what lessons did you learn?

I am a loser. Not in the social sense that I am uncool or weird, but in the literal sense: I always lose. It was taboo to have me on your soccer team at recess in third grade, as I would always kick the ball the opposite direction. If we were playing Monopoly, I would somehow go bankrupt, although we know the rarity of that event. However, luck is not what I blame this tragedy upon. I blame my failure upon the fact that I once doubted myself in everything I did. I used to have this mindset about talent, compromising myself by thinking, everyone has a predisposition for their talent so I'll never succeed at this, but a divarication to this self-pitying conviction sprung upon my life because of a literally breath-taking sport, cross-country.

I had previous experience with the sport in junior high, but this "experience" consisted of constantly skipping practice and slacking off during workouts. As you can imagine, this resulted in last place victories and pitying high-fives from my teammates. I never truly understood the meaning of, "practice makes perfect" until a successful failure during my junior year of high school.

I guarantee any runner can boast about the agony of racing, but I will spare you the cliché descriptions of "burning lungs" and "legs like Jello" and cut to the chase (no pun intended). My three mile battle was nearing its end with the usual procedure: survey my prey in front of me, chase after her ponytail, make a swift pass, and gladly stomp across the blue time-recorder mats, but this was not the case. My race did not end in the tenacious finish I could typically muster. My supposed victim from another school pulled up in front of me and plundered my fanfare finish. What happened to me? Well, my mentality about talent was my downfall. She obviously had more talent for running than I did, so I let her pass me. This split second of doubt made me give up my finish.

I went to a website to check my finishing time later that day and I couldn't believe my eyes; I received a new personal record that was a minute and thirty seconds faster than my previous one. Those daily two-hour, agonizing practices were discretely paying off. A simple thought once yelled at me," you don't have talent and you never will", but I prepared my final decision: turn off those voices in my head and open my eyes to the reality of the matter. I am not the best runner, but I can exert myself as best as I possibly can.

I finally threw away my lackadaisical attitude and could comprehend the meaning of the cliché that hard work pays off. A collage of race bibs and motivational quotes plaster a wall in my bedroom to emphasize the expeditions I navigated in the past and the many I have yet to overcome in the future. Being breathless and sore after the run is just as worth it as spending countless hours of my weekend revising this essay. I know I still have an innumerable amount of struggles ahead of me, but each one guides me closer to that ungraspable perfection I seek. There is no such thing as pre-disposed talent, nor will I ever believe there is anymore. Success comes directly from the heart. The inclination to create a goal and chase after it will drive me to places I never dreamed of before.