Memoir

Finish Line

 The texture of the track is a hard rubber; strong enough so that when the runner explodes from the start line, he has no drag, strong enough to have running spikes jab into it without pulling it apart, strong enough so when a runner pounds into it they will continue speeding up till maximum speed is reach without slipping. As the runner begins the race, he must anticipate the gun like his next heart beat and round the first hundred meters leaning into the track using explosive, quick steps that will carry them for the first portion of the track.

 The sky was a type of blue that you cannot get from crayons; it was a type of beautiful color you could only get from nature. The stands were filled, but silent as the national anthem sounded through the emptiness of the sky. The American flag blew with such pride and confidence, for it resembled a skyscraper in the midst of a ton of tiny buildings. Runners stopped warming up, throwers stopped practicing their throws, and jumpers stopped practicing their jumps, to look up to the skyscraper in amazement, and as the tone of the anthem left the stadium they returned to warm-ups for their races, throws, and jumps. Coaches flew around the stadium, announcers screaming, “Coach so and so, report to the infield tent, or coach so and so, please turn in list of runners to officials.” The chaotic mess of participants, coaches and officials looked as if it could have been the most unorganized meet in the world, however, it was not unorganized at all because once the first event began everything, all the planning, fell into place.

 My mother questioned, “What do you think your gonna’ run?”

 I replied enthusiastically, “I was thinking the 400m, 800m, 100m hurdles, and the 200m hurdles.”

 Excited, she quickly replies, “Wow, sounds like you have your hands full today, better make it count and drop those times! Oh and remember…

I interrupted, “stretch real well and don’t get psyched out, I know, I know.” as if I had heard her say this exact line a million times. As I finished speaking, I turned and ran down the bleachers before she could say anything else to get me even more nervous.

I ran by the “herd” of people engulfing the order of events posted on the wall, I was hoping I was not the first or second event up because I never liked being rushed when warming-up and stretching. I stopped and pivoted toward the wall and maneuvered through the maze of people till I reached the list. I spotted two of my events under today’s event listings and two under Sunday’s event listings. I was going to be running my 400m, the second event of the day, and my 200m hurdles, the seventh event, today.

I turned back and moved through the “herd” screaming in my head, “NOOO!” My confidence level sank into the cracks of the earth and I began running towards the track. Not only did I have to run the second event, but also after finishing the 400m I had to wait for five whole races to finish to run my next event and by then I will be dead tired from sitting around all day.

As I hopped through the gates onto the track, I started my one-mile warm-up. As I ran around the track I scanned the stadium, checking out my competition for the day. I looked for anyone I knew, and looked for new runners or teams to watch through out the day. I spotted a couple kids from Camden Track Club, which would be my main competition for the day. I finished my last lap just in time before I heard the loudspeakers echoed through the stadium, “Beeeeeeep, Testing, Testing, 1, 2, 3. All runners please clear the infield and step off the track. The meet is going to start soon, thank you.” A minute later the loudspeaker repeated, “All runners please clear the infield and step off the track, and all 1600m runners report to the clerking tent on the infield.” The 1600m run flew by, only two heats of girls and two heats of boys. The 400m sprint was called during the last heat of boys and I was dreading this run, I thought I was going to do terrible. My heart was pounding like a hammer on an anvil, my nerves were jolting through my body like an electrical current, and my legs began to tremble as I sat under the clerking tent. I have felt this feeling many times; I just had to keep moving around, stay loose and try not to psyched out on how big the kids I would be running against were. The heat before mine stampeded down the straightaway, track officials stood ready with their watches, “Click!” The runners crossed the finish line, the time on the clock read “59.8 seconds.” I knew my best time was better then this and I could easily run a fifty-eight second 400m now. This built my confidence a little and I stepped onto the track. <span style="background-color: transparent; color: #000000; font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 16px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">As the runner begins the race he must anticipate the gun like his next heart beat and round the first hundred meters leaning into the track using explosive, and quick steps that will carry them for the first portion of the track. However, the start of the race for me is not my best part of my race, I needed a lot of improving still. <span style="background-color: transparent; color: #000000; font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 16px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">The gunshot, “Bang!” <span style="background-color: transparent; color: #000000; font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 16px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">The race began and I was in lane six, I had to get a good start so that I was not left behind on the turns since I was the farthest from the middle of the track. I exploded from the starting line, my right leg pushing me over the line. I pumped my arms and pounded into the track with my feet leaning to the inside of the track working the curve with such expertise. <span style="background-color: transparent; color: #000000; font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 16px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Reaching the first straight away on the track, I began cycling my legs using long strides but keeping my speed to save energy for the end of the race. I felt like a cheetah chasing its prey in the wilderness, hitting sixty miles per hour on a straight away. I continued running down the track and saw a runner out of the side of my eye in lane four, it was one of the kids from Camden. We were approaching the second curve on the track and my plan was to begin to build speed up and start taking my powerful steps to gain more speed for the final straight away. He got a tiny lead since he was closer on the inside so I had to haul ass to catch up to him. <span style="background-color: transparent; color: #000000; font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 16px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">That last straight away, the last 100m on the track was one of the most critical parts of the 400m. If you didn’t get a good start, then you most likely wouldn’t have a chance on the straightaway. If you didn’t begin to speed up on the curve, you most likely wouldn’t have a chance on the straightaway. Everything lead up to this final show down, between who was the toughest one, who could endure the most pain, pushing as hard as they can, squeezing every last bit of energy out of their bodies. <span style="background-color: transparent; color: #000000; font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 16px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> I was about 10m away from the Camden kid in front of me, I just had to push it as hard as possible and run as hard as I could. My legs ached and as the race finished they would feel like jello just like the rest of my body. I was a good 5 steps away from the Camden runner, but still 20m from the finish. 4 steps, 3 steps, 2 steps… <span style="background-color: transparent; color: #000000; font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 16px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> “Click”, the timers all clicked their watches and it was so close I couldn’t even tell. The clock read “57.5 seconds.” I was astonished; this was my best time yet! The Camden kid and I were only milliseconds from each other and I was either 1 millisecond behind or in front. <span style="background-color: transparent; color: #000000; font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 16px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> Whenever I finished a race, I always gave my competition a handshake in gratitude, it makes people respect you and when you look them in the eye they will remember who you are. I wobbled off the field and gave the runner a handshake telling him, good race and he did the same. <span style="background-color: transparent; color: #000000; font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 16px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> I stumbled into the seat next to my mom, she congratulated me on a good race. <span style="background-color: transparent; color: #000000; font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 16px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> I questioned, “So did I look good?” <span style="background-color: transparent; color: #000000; font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 16px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> “Yes, you fought on the straight away and got out strong”, she replied. <span style="background-color: transparent; color: #000000; font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 16px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> “How close was it, did I win?!”, I then asked, enthusiastically. <span style="background-color: transparent; color: #000000; font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 16px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> She answered, “I couldn’t tell from up here it was a bad angle, I guess you are going to have to wait for the results to be posted.” <span style="background-color: transparent; color: #000000; font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 16px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> I hated waiting when it came to results, I would think all day, “I wonder if I got 1 <span style="background-color: transparent; color: #000000; font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 10px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: super;">st! <span style="background-color: transparent; color: #000000; font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 16px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> or did I really run a 57.5!?” <span style="background-color: transparent; color: #000000; font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 16px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> I began warming-up again. The same routine, the one I had rehearsed a thousand times, the one that would help me win my races. I would run for a little, stretch for a little get back up run again and then stretch again. It was a continuous way of keeping me occupied while I waited for five races to finish. After cooling down and getting back to a comfortable state, I found a hurdle and began doing some warm-ups over that. I would do high knees towards the hurdle and then snap my trail leg over the back and then do the opposite and use my lead leg to extend over the hurdle. After getting comfortable with that, I did some run overs till it felt second nature. <span style="background-color: transparent; color: #000000; font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 16px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> The 200m hurdles was not as strategic as the 400m run, it was more skill. You had to know your steps between each hurdle to get over the it on the same foot every time, but still have built up enough speed to wipe out the competition. This was my best race, so I had to keep warming-up and doing what ever I could to keep my energy going so I didn’t sit down and become exhausted. <span style="background-color: transparent; color: #000000; font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 16px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> Loudspeakers turned on and the announcers spoke, “All 200m Hurdles please report to the clerking tent on the infield.” It was my second time to shine. <span style="background-color: transparent; color: #000000; font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 16px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> Before going to the tent however, I stopped at the event results wall and saw that the Camden kid was there too. I walked up and he immediately recognized me and extended his hand to give me a handshake and he said, “Great race, hopefully I can beat you next time.” <span style="background-color: transparent; color: #000000; font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 16px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">I got to the tent received my number and sat down. I was much more patient this time around, with my renewed confidence from winning my 400m. The race before mine finished and we began lining up on the 200m starting marks, the beginning of the third curve. Then the runners lined up and the gun fired in almost perfect sequence. “Boom”, the gun sounded, and then it would do it again. We were little bullets being loaded into a gun and then shot around the track. Then my heat was up. We all walked up in our lanes and waited for the gunman to tell us when to get into position. <span style="background-color: transparent; color: #000000; font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 16px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> The sun today was unusually strong today; standing on the starting line I felt my tan line grow and knew I was in my favorite place. <span style="background-color: transparent; color: #000000; font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 16px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> The gunman screamed,” RUNNNERS’ on your marks, SET, GOO!” <span style="background-color: transparent; color: #000000; font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 16px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> These six words flew threw my head, I kicked off the line and bulleted towards the first hurdle. Fifth-teen steps, I moved over the first hurdle with ease surpassing the skill of all other runners. Seventeen steps, I laughed at the second hurdle as if I had thought of a funny joke in my head. Seventeen steps again, I cleared the third hurdle on the curve and looked into the straightaway, forgetting I was running against anyone and bolted. <span style="background-color: transparent; color: #000000; font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 16px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Fourth hurdle easy, Fifth hurdle easier and now all that stood in my way from first place was the finish line.