Updated Essay

The Sixth Mile

    Heavy breathing, sweat dripping, heart pounding, I felt like I was going to die. Thoughts were rushing through my head and the little voice in the back of my head said “keep going you can do it.” All I could hear was my feet hitting the pavement and my heavy breaths. My heart was beating so loud I could hear it pounding in my ears. Victory was at the sixth mile.

    The summer before junior year was coming to an end. Basketball season was only a couple months away. I knew I needed to do something so I could prepare myself for the grueling practices. Cross country was the only other sport offered. So I thought to myself “hey, it’s worth a shot.” I was late to start the season so I already felt like I was at a disadvantage. I remember my first day of practice. We started our run at the school in one big group, as we got further and further down the street I started to drift farther to the back of the group. When we crossed the street to the other side of the campus, I saw all of the other runners’ way ahead of me. At that moment I felt defeated. I slowed down and started walking the one person that turned around and came to my side was my coach, Mr.Grima. He talked me up to running again. He told me that if I gave up I would never get better. From then on I never gave up. He stayed at my side for the rest of the run. It gave me hope, and made feel much stronger. I needed that support to push through.


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