"Runners, On Your Mark" by Ellie Arsenault
“Bang.”
The gunshot rang in my ears as I took my first stride. Immediately, I heard the sounds of heavy breathing and felt the rhythm of my feet hitting the rubber, and my heart pounding against my chest as though it was trying to break free. I was aware of muffled shouts coming from little blurs of color all around me, but I couldn’t make out the words they were saying as I dashed by. The world was moving so fast that sounds couldn’t reach me in time to avoid getting lost in the dizzying speed.
***
I was racing in the Almquist Invitational, a spring track meet that is the closest thing to State for middle school. I was seated as 8th and this was my last opportunity to get a personal record, or what we call a PR in track. I had started the season with a race time of 1:22 for the 400 meter when I came in second to last. But over the season I had improved and I wanted to do my best in this race. I was there with my friends, along with my dad, and even two great aunts. It was a big deal, but the day was shaping up to be difficult. It was cold with a bit of rain, and in only shorts and tank top, I felt freezing.
***
I was far behind everyone making the first turn. The nerves from before the race came rushing back as I fought to not come in last. I felt sick to my stomach as I picked up the pace but speed only muted the outside sounds. My hands were clammy, my head was throbbing, and my throat was burning from the cold. The thoughts seemed to suffocate me but I tried to steady my breathing by using the techniques that had been drilled into my head by coaches and teachers. I was still counting my breaths when suddenly, a gust of cold breeze came and blew away my thoughts. All I could think about now was the sharp aching sting on my skin that felt like needles stabbing me a hundred times.
Focused on the lanes full of people, I came around the second corner, my breathing quickening. The gap between me and the person in front of me began to close. The world disappeared and I concentrated on the runner ahead. My lungs felt as though they’d reached their breaking point. I felt the sweat as it slowly made its way down my face, but every stride closed the gap a little bit.
Finally, I caught up to the group. At the 200-meter mark, I started to pass people. The third corner came into focus. Little by little, I gained on the person in front; the worries had almost disappeared. When I turned the fourth corner, I heard my dad's voice urging me to go faster. My pace quickened and his words echoed through my head.
***
Seeing him standing there cheering me on brought me back to the beginning of my running career. I have been around running since before I can remember. I have heard stories of my dad running with his gray shirt soaked with sweat while pushing me in my stroller. He had been my coach all of my life, helping me get better, and now he was my middle school track coach.
***
My ponytail whipped the back of my neck as the wind whistled in my ears telling me to go faster. The noise grew louder when I saw a faint smudge of white in the distance with crowds of colorful blurs on either side of it.
I could just barely make out the two people already crossing the finish. I was going as fast as I could, but the pounding of my heart made breathing even more impossible. One last push and I was there, I told myself. Then there was only one person in front of me. I tried as hard as I could to pass them, but just as I was about to get in front, they crossed the finish line. The whole world seemed to pause while I took my final stride across the white line of the track.
I came to a stop and everything slowly came back into focus. I saw my family smiling at me from the crowds of people where the colorful blurs used to be. My head, pounding from the adrenaline, felt as though I was on a merry-go-round that had suddenly decided to stop. Waiting for the others to finish, I caught a glimpse of the board that showed the results. The time 1:10 bounced around my head as I stepped off the track.
I made my way dizzily back to the team area and waited for them to announce the girls 400-meter times. I held my breath, waves of anxiety crashing over me. Would my name get called? The voice booming over the intercom announced the top three. I started to doubt that I had made it in the top six, and just as I was about to give up on the idea completely, I heard the words I'd been hoping to hear all day:
“And in fourth place, from Orono Middle School, with a time of 1:10– Ellie Arsenault.”
I walked out of the team area, happiness coursing through my body. I had done it! Pride added to the happiness as I saw my dad nod his approval from afar. I went up to collect my medal like I was walking through a dream.
Ellie Arsenault is 14 years old; she lives in Orono, Maine and attends Orono Middle School in RSU 26. Ellie writes that she likes all kinds of sports from field hockey, skiing, and of course track. In her spare time, she enjoys biking around town and hanging out with friends.