That was it, the last moment I would ever have to be in middle school. From this point on I would be a high school scholar, at least that's how I thought of it. But that wasn't the only thing I was focused on going into high school. My father, as most other father's do, would always talk about his high school athletic career. Specifically Track and Cross Country. So when it was my turn, naturally I wanted to follow in his footsteps and join the team.
The only other organized sport I had ever played was little league baseball, and after seeing my teammates cry and wine, I was not very eager to go back. So, as season approached for Track I became very excited to see just how far I would be able to push my limits as an athlete.
I trained hard, and my father even came out to some of my practices, making me run even harder. Then the day I had been awaiting for finally arrived. I real race in against real competition to see how I would stack up.
We lined up at the start line, I waited nervously, asking the other runners what place they thought they would come in. One responded with "I'm not racing anyone, I'm just racing the clock." moments later the gun went off and so did I. Exploding from the blocks I ran with everything that I had, and realized that this was the moment I had been waiting for. for so long.
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