[font="times new roman"]“Runners on Your Mark…”[/font]
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[font="times new roman"]Routinely, every Saturday morning I wait in line to use the Porta Potty. The idea of cooping myself up into an area that is barely large enough to bend over is not appealing, regardless of the fact that with each breath I take, I inhale a bountiful amount of airborne bacteria emanating from the deposits of the previous users. Yet, I continue this torture, despite my wrinkled nose and yearning for a traditional porcelain commode, because comfort during my cross-country race overrules the minutes leading up to the event. I can use the available facility, or face the consequences of adding seconds to my time. This issue begins the hassles and decisions faced by every runner and myself each race.[/font]
[font="times new roman"] Following the visit to the Porta Potty, my teammates and I pray to the Lord and wish each other good luck as we carefully position our feet on the starting line. Here we are, standing, waiting, waiting to be manipulated or to manipulate, to be conquered or to be the conqueror. We stand on the course, vulnerable and unknowing of what lies ahead. The gun goes off; the pack sprints like gazelles. In that first minute, I encounter several elbow jabs. Fighting back is an undeniable reality because submissiveness is the key to failure. I have to get out and position my self in the race. The beginning is essential. It is the building block of all things; the beginning can make or break anyone.[/font]
[font="times new roman"] As the race progresses, decisions are to be made. Do I attempt to run with the lead runner and risk jeopardizing everything during the last eight hundred meters? Or, do I remain in my comfort zone and risk having the burden of energy after the race? The possibilities are endless, as well as, the consequences that follow them. During each stride I am keenly aware of my surroundings. The girl’s rattling breath to the right of me demonstrates her weakness; however, the individual to my left shows strength after each lengthy gait. She challenges me. Surging, she picks up the pace. I can drop back and watch her pony tail bob rapidly away, or I can go with her, maybe even discourage her. I choose to go. Imagining the guilt I will feel hours after my race encourages me to take the opportunity and run with it. I venture to the mile mark. Coach calls out my mile split, in addition to words of encouragement and the whereabouts of the competition. Charging ahead, I store the bits of wisdom she has instilled in my mind, because my pleasure is dependent on her acceptance of my performance. As I persist, my body begins to feel fatigued. My entire body feels as if it is equipped with a suit of armor. As each girl passes, I feel discouraged. I realize the more I drop back, the more control they have; I do not want to be their tool. I pick up my pace; only eight hundred meters remains. Opening up my stride and concentrating on using my arms, I select runners in front of me to pick off. As the finish line nears, the girls I have selected are moseying in my footsteps. However, one selected victim slips from my grips. Tired and discouraged, I back off. I cannot overtake her. Meanwhile coaches, parents, and teammates are cheering my name. I hear them, yet, I feel defeated. The finish line is approximately one hundred meters away; the race is over for me. Suddenly I look up, my inspiration is staring me in the face. The ticking of the official race clock shows the near availability of a personal record. In shock, I forget my pain and anguish and sprint as hard as I can. I pass more than I planned, including the origin of my premature defeat.[/font]
[font="times new roman"] A runner’s racing method and style on the course reflect everyday decisions. These actions correlate with how I live my life. The ups and downs in those crucial moments define who I am. My attitude on the course demonstrates my thought process in life. Through running I have come in touch with my inner person and discovered who I am. Runners race the way they live, and live the way they race.[/font]
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