I tried to show how I persevere through daily problems using one of my favorite ec's, weight lifting, as a back drop. Please be harsh on mostly content and cohesion.
Lastly, Do I answer the prompt?
In this second essay, please reflect on something you would like us to know about you that we might not learn from the rest of your application--or on something that you would like to ay more about. we ask that you limit your essay to fewer than 500 words.
Many men before me have been in this exact position, suspended by a hard object resting parallel to my spine. These men I have talked to, they are the same seen on the walls and through the dust. They constantly utter the phrase, "the mind is key. Control the mind, control the body." Though wrong body position could cause me to enter an early grave, they are only focused on my mind's focus. I drown out all external sounds. I tighten my gear and ready myself for battle. I attempt to concentrate but my mind loses focus on the task at hand. My mind loses focus at the wrong time. My mind drifts towards the past.
Yelling fills the vacuum my brain has created. But who is yelling? The men... or me? I cannot tell as I have heard their screams and have seen their blood and sweat, yet I have also felt the pain of my own labor. The body can only handle so much. Somehow, the men always push on while I slowly deteriorate under the pain. Maybe that's why they are on the wall? Do they not yell the same yell as I? I confirm they do, but somehow they are still superior.
I shift back into the present: contemplating, analyzing. These men still surround me and I decode all of their screaming. "Push it the f*** up" is what spews from their mouths. As my mind tries to listen to this command I drift back into the past.
This isn't my first confrontation with these men. Last time I saw them my body broke down as I was defeated, but there they still were; still hanging on the high walls surrounding me while I sit slumped in the corner as their prey. Every battle I encounter they are there. Always yelling and screaming.
Their purpose is yet a mystery as...
I shake off my quandaries and resume my focus on the task at hand. I tighten my wrist straps and lean back guided by pure adrenaline. My chalked hands cut the bar into thirds and I let out a deep grunt. The bar lowers and I push it back up with ease. Four more reps go up then suddenly I hear profanity aimed in my direction. As the bar slows with every rep the yelling gets louder. Defeat will not be tolerated! The men are back and larger more irate than ever. I force up the last three repetitions and rack the weight. My muscles feel as if they are tearing apart.
I sit up victorious; knowing I have pushed my body passed its limits. But then it dawns on me. I look through the empty weight room and look for the pictures plastered high on the wall. They are nowhere to be found.
Lastly, Do I answer the prompt?
In this second essay, please reflect on something you would like us to know about you that we might not learn from the rest of your application--or on something that you would like to ay more about. we ask that you limit your essay to fewer than 500 words.
Many men before me have been in this exact position, suspended by a hard object resting parallel to my spine. These men I have talked to, they are the same seen on the walls and through the dust. They constantly utter the phrase, "the mind is key. Control the mind, control the body." Though wrong body position could cause me to enter an early grave, they are only focused on my mind's focus. I drown out all external sounds. I tighten my gear and ready myself for battle. I attempt to concentrate but my mind loses focus on the task at hand. My mind loses focus at the wrong time. My mind drifts towards the past.
Yelling fills the vacuum my brain has created. But who is yelling? The men... or me? I cannot tell as I have heard their screams and have seen their blood and sweat, yet I have also felt the pain of my own labor. The body can only handle so much. Somehow, the men always push on while I slowly deteriorate under the pain. Maybe that's why they are on the wall? Do they not yell the same yell as I? I confirm they do, but somehow they are still superior.
I shift back into the present: contemplating, analyzing. These men still surround me and I decode all of their screaming. "Push it the f*** up" is what spews from their mouths. As my mind tries to listen to this command I drift back into the past.
This isn't my first confrontation with these men. Last time I saw them my body broke down as I was defeated, but there they still were; still hanging on the high walls surrounding me while I sit slumped in the corner as their prey. Every battle I encounter they are there. Always yelling and screaming.
Their purpose is yet a mystery as...
I shake off my quandaries and resume my focus on the task at hand. I tighten my wrist straps and lean back guided by pure adrenaline. My chalked hands cut the bar into thirds and I let out a deep grunt. The bar lowers and I push it back up with ease. Four more reps go up then suddenly I hear profanity aimed in my direction. As the bar slows with every rep the yelling gets louder. Defeat will not be tolerated! The men are back and larger more irate than ever. I force up the last three repetitions and rack the weight. My muscles feel as if they are tearing apart.
I sit up victorious; knowing I have pushed my body passed its limits. But then it dawns on me. I look through the empty weight room and look for the pictures plastered high on the wall. They are nowhere to be found.
