I reach the starting line with my hands cold as ice. The crowd is spinning and silver specks of light flash above my head. The stadium stretches across the finish line. I think about past races won, and hope this one will soon join them. My opponents take their marks on line, and so do I. Out of the corner of my eye I can see #45 kneeling as the announcer yells “GET SET!” I face forward and wait for the “GO!” Before I know it I hear the voice that sends me flying. Whoosh! We’re off speeding through the wind; my arms are pumping, and I feel my nervous heart pounding. My nails claw the palm of my hand as I start to ball up my fist. The halfway mark is almost an inch away. As I finally set foot on it, this surge of energy boosts me like a rocket. I can no longer feel my legs, just the muscles working their magic. The view ahead is a beautiful sunlit orange, bright like the sweetness of victory.

by Nancy, 12th grade

[photo by Matt Devino via flickr]

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