My First Making Money
Never did I think I'd become like them, that I could actually rid my vanity to the point where I could run for cover in the bushes with three friends: my two new, wild, cross-country companions and a roll of toilet paper. I was still undecided on whether or not to take another sport under my belt. I compiled a list of pros and cons. The cons outweighed the pros by nearly twice as much, but I still decided to take that risk. And it has provided me with more pain, discomfort, and joy than I have ever hoped for.
At the time, I had acquired a job, and the novel concept of earning a paycheck excited me. In the spirit of novelty, I began a sport of which I soon learned required copious levels of mental endurance and backbone. I figured if I didn't do cross country, my time could allocate itself more faithfully to schoolwork, my job, and spending time with friends. But then, as if going on a gut reaction, I decided that I NEEDED to do cross-country. I thought of memorable summer practices in which I endured endless runs by a creek side; the taste of the first sip of water after miles of exhaustion; my coach's heartfelt words in my ability to succeed. I decided to go through with this grueling sport, and it has given back far more than I expected. I wouldn't have gotten this tremendous return, however, if not for all my heart and soul - my whole being - having been poured into this investment.
I learned that a cross-country race is a constant fight against adverse inner thoughts, against the opponent trying to catch up, and against letting the shooting pain in your legs slow your pace. I felt so out of place at my first race when during the final three-hundred meters, the girls I had been pacing myself with all along had darted for the finish in a final sprint. Panicking, I realized I had invested all my energy in trying to keep up. They had taken off as if they'd been tricking me the whole time with their heavy breathing. In track I knew this "kick," as runners call it, was used in the 400-meter sprint, but I couldn't grasp the fact that we were expected to kick after a 3-mile race. After a few meets I grew prepared for, and mastered the kick. I am in insurmountable pain, but whether or not I increase that intensity is what I struggle over. Though it is easier to remain at a given comfort level, life isn't about remaining comfortable; and I know this will not put me ahead of anyone else. After almost three miles, my senses are going numb. The faces around me are a blur; the noises melt to static. All I can feel is near exhaustion of my legs and dryness in my throat. I realize then I can see the finish shoot, and if some of my senses are capable of going numb, then all of them are. I tune out everything but that finish shoot. When it comes down to it, cross country challenges the mind just as much as the body.
I stood in euphoria as my first-ever medal was awarded to me. I then realized the weight of money in my hand could not come close to the weight of a metal around my neck. I had never won a medal, and what made it count was the effort I put into it, aware that I could've fallen short. I have never been more pleased with myself for having chosen the route of cross-country despite a lengthy list of cons. I realize now that the biggest negative, which was suffering through pain everyday, became the biggest positive of my experience. It gave me a perseverance that I would not have attained through increased hours at my job or nonstop schoolwork. I know that it is this perseverance that will guide me towards my goals as it guided me to the finish line in every race as I finished with a kick.This is great writing;
...my heart and soul - my whole being - having been poured into this investment.
...that I could actually rid myself of vanity to the point where I could run for cover in
I felt so out of place at my first race, when...
...which was suffering through pain every day , became the biggest positive of my experience.
I like how you also finish your essay 'with a kick'!
