It was morning. The gentle breeze of cold air glided across my frostbitten nose leaving the rest of my figure trembling. I stood poised and attentive; my mind acting as my loyal companion and dreadful enemy all in the same moment. It was for this reason that the slightest ounce of doubt could be of catastrophic measure; however, a swift exhale was enough to soothe my mind’s erratic behavior. Instead, I redirected my awareness to the sound of crackling voices emitting heartfelt joy as the previous finishers completed the grassy, two-looped course. They had been successful. Suddenly, a voice arose among the chants of rival teams and coaches offering last minute inspiration. The official directed everyone behind the white line painted a half-mile long in the grass. The start was abrupt, and I retaliated with the brisk movement of my legs ferociously striding to…show more content… Hundreds of spectators lined the straightaway awaiting who would qualify for the most coveted race of the year, the PIAA Cross Country Championships, including my own family. The final moments of my race were spent listening to the crackling voices expressing heartfelt joy, but the voices were not for me. When I finally stepped foot across the finish line, I could not resist the oncoming waves of regret, sadness, and anger; I refused to acknowledge any positivity. It was like I had been robbed of all my endless days of training. Later that day, after settling my emotions, I reflected on all the failure I have underwent during my Cross Country career and concluded something extraordinary that day. A failure is not a loss. It is an opportunity to learn, change, and grow as a person. My desire to constantly improve myself as an individual illustrates the lingering affect Cross Country will forever hold within me as I make my transition into college. They were successful in running, but now I had the foundation to be successful in
