Evaluate a significant experience, achievement, risk you have taken, or ethical dilemma you have faced and its impact on you
Possible titles: The Ultimate High OR Rediscovering Running
The start gun fired, but I didn't begin my race until 10 minutes later. I wasn't intentionally giving a generous head start, I was stuck behind thousands of people. Once I crossed the start, I broke into a fast run. I didn't expect to continue running the entire half marathon. My training routine consisted of only 10 miles per week. I was no longer the cross country endurance runner of 8th grade, nor the speedy 5-minute miler of sophomore year. I was mentally prepared to walk half the race and feel pitiful afterward.
Thankfully, my thoughts did not convert to reality. My speed leveled off after 3 miles, as I adapted my pace to that of nearby racers. With little training, I crossed miles 4, 5, 6, 7...at a surprisingly quick pace. I enjoyed the winding course around downtown Miami, through South Beach, passing by residential areas and parks. Cheer zones occurred every mile, and my face lit up as I heard pounding drums and blasting trumpets, usually reserved for football games. I pushed myself to the tune of people chanting, in throngs of 50, "Keep it up! You can do it!" I felt like I could run forever. I was invigorated, competitive, driven, and nearly incapable of tiredness.
At mile 11, I proceeded into a faster run, motivated by the finish line less than 2 miles away. I pumped my arms and lengthened my stride, passing a person per second, giving no one the opportunity to catch up. There was the marker: 12 miles. A little bit faster. Then the road started to narrow, blocked off by thick lines of people cheering "you're almost there!" barely audible over the resonating drums. I matched my speed to the tempo of the music, sprinting through the finish line and bowing so that people could recognize my incredible performance. I received my medal and smiled ecstatically for the cameraman capturing my most prideful moment.
I had done the seemingly impossible. My body was accustomed to running only a couple of miles per day, but it had accomplished the amazing feat of a continuous 13 miles. My passion for the sport was instantly reignited. I desperately wanted to reactivate the runner's high and compete. Without hesitating, I signed up for the 2013 Half Marathon a few days later, and made a commitment to return to cross country and become even faster than before.
Running is the simplest sport, but we've had a complicated relationship. It exhausts me. It invigorates me. I hate it. I love it. But I do it for the moment at the end of the race, where I feel invincible and unbreakable, with a smile bigger than anything else could bring to my face. The adrenaline rush that I experienced represents the pinnacle of physical activity. More importantly, it symbolizes my craving for being the best person that I can be. I want to be the fastest runner possible; I strive to learn as much as I can so that I can be a successful student, and eventually, an extraordinary employee; my weekends are lined with volunteer activities so that I can make a positive impact on my community. I view life as a journey toward reaching my potential, and every second as an additional opportunity to achieve it.
Possible titles: The Ultimate High OR Rediscovering Running
The start gun fired, but I didn't begin my race until 10 minutes later. I wasn't intentionally giving a generous head start, I was stuck behind thousands of people. Once I crossed the start, I broke into a fast run. I didn't expect to continue running the entire half marathon. My training routine consisted of only 10 miles per week. I was no longer the cross country endurance runner of 8th grade, nor the speedy 5-minute miler of sophomore year. I was mentally prepared to walk half the race and feel pitiful afterward.
Thankfully, my thoughts did not convert to reality. My speed leveled off after 3 miles, as I adapted my pace to that of nearby racers. With little training, I crossed miles 4, 5, 6, 7...at a surprisingly quick pace. I enjoyed the winding course around downtown Miami, through South Beach, passing by residential areas and parks. Cheer zones occurred every mile, and my face lit up as I heard pounding drums and blasting trumpets, usually reserved for football games. I pushed myself to the tune of people chanting, in throngs of 50, "Keep it up! You can do it!" I felt like I could run forever. I was invigorated, competitive, driven, and nearly incapable of tiredness.
At mile 11, I proceeded into a faster run, motivated by the finish line less than 2 miles away. I pumped my arms and lengthened my stride, passing a person per second, giving no one the opportunity to catch up. There was the marker: 12 miles. A little bit faster. Then the road started to narrow, blocked off by thick lines of people cheering "you're almost there!" barely audible over the resonating drums. I matched my speed to the tempo of the music, sprinting through the finish line and bowing so that people could recognize my incredible performance. I received my medal and smiled ecstatically for the cameraman capturing my most prideful moment.
I had done the seemingly impossible. My body was accustomed to running only a couple of miles per day, but it had accomplished the amazing feat of a continuous 13 miles. My passion for the sport was instantly reignited. I desperately wanted to reactivate the runner's high and compete. Without hesitating, I signed up for the 2013 Half Marathon a few days later, and made a commitment to return to cross country and become even faster than before.
Running is the simplest sport, but we've had a complicated relationship. It exhausts me. It invigorates me. I hate it. I love it. But I do it for the moment at the end of the race, where I feel invincible and unbreakable, with a smile bigger than anything else could bring to my face. The adrenaline rush that I experienced represents the pinnacle of physical activity. More importantly, it symbolizes my craving for being the best person that I can be. I want to be the fastest runner possible; I strive to learn as much as I can so that I can be a successful student, and eventually, an extraordinary employee; my weekends are lined with volunteer activities so that I can make a positive impact on my community. I view life as a journey toward reaching my potential, and every second as an additional opportunity to achieve it.