I almost fell victim to the relentless
boredom of an honors U.S. history class. At the beginning of my junior
year I was placed in Mr. Wilkner's class. The utter uninterest I experienced
there led me to my first time ever falling asleep in class. I just
felt like I wasn't being challenged and so the slumbers continued.
Napping in class became a habit…a bad habit. My inability to
stay awake annoyed me like a pebble in my shoe.
Little did I know the worst was yet to come. My unconsciousness spread
to other classes. I was unwillingly falling asleep as soon as the
teacher said a word. Thus, I came to the conclusion that a schedule
change was needed. I was switched into AP U.S. History and amazingly
a drastic change occurred. I became more interested in history than
ever before and instead of the sleep taking me over, I was overwhelmed
with interest. All of a sudden school wasn't such a drag and everything
seemed to enlighten me.
Fate, if not luck, saved me from this deadly situation. People usually
refer to me as lethargic and I procrastinate more than the average
person. Which is why such a perfect schedule change was unusual. I
was miraculously rescued from the evil grasp of a "bad student"
spirit. Furthermore, I no longer have to face extreme boredom five
out of seven days of the week. That boredom has long since dissipated-but
to think I came that close to an unparalleled misery.
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Can you imagine what it would be like
to be breathing as hard as you could, yet still be gasping for air?
Welcome to the world of cross country; a world where fatigue has no
limits. Yet, after all the pain endured, there is a certain satisfaction
obtained. Is it because you've won the race or merely the fact that
you have finished it successfully? Whatever the case may be, the satisfaction
lingers; just when you thought you couldn't go on any longer, the
competition compels you to push your body beyond its limits.
When I was in 11th grade, I had my first experience with long distance
running. At first, I was hesitant to participate in a sport that was
once a punishment for me when I played baseball as a child. However,
my friend Jason was utterly convinced that I could not possibly beat
him in a 3.1 mile race, but I was fully aware of my capabilities and
I knew that I have always had a natural talent for endurance running.
Being the stubborn person that I am, I decided to prove him wrong.
It was October 12, 2002, and I can still remember the sweet breeze
of the oncoming drizzle. My arms and legs were extremely jittery and
there was a struggle going on in my mind about how my first 5K (3.1
mile) race would turn out. After the girls had finished running, it
was our turn to line up and get ready to race. Of course, our team
huddled up in a circle first and did our traditional and invigorating
"Dirty South" chant. With my newly revived spirits, I headed
towards the starting line and shook my neighbors' hands good luck.
Before I knew it, the shot of the gun had gone off and there was a
full twenty-one minutes and thirty seconds of running ahead of me.
The experience I had that day was quite dramatic, although I can only
remember bits and fragments of my actual race. I can remember coming
through the first mile in a good pack with the rest of my team, but
the rest is just a blur. There was one particular moment, however,
that was particularly meaningful to me. I remember being only a couple
hundred meters away from the finish line when it felt like my arms
could no longer move and my feet were no longer there. I wanted to
give up so badly and yet I overcame what my body thought was not possible.
It was, in short, my moment of truth; would I give up on something
I knew I could do?
My achievements that year earned me a spot on the Varsity South Plantation
Cross Country team. The very same team that was to, later on in the
season, win a #2 in the state victory. The feeling of glory was great,
not only had I proved my friend wrong about my abilities, but I had
also amounted to being a Varsity-class runner.
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