Running Past Failure by Taysha

Running Past Failure by Taysha - February 2017 Scholarship Essay

One of my most significant experiences was being dead last in my own race. I was a pretty proficient track runner. I was determined and never gave up. Although this was my first year running, I knew there was something about it that I had liked. I was halfway finished my race and I was worn out and just plain tired. All hope was gone in me winning my race or even making “okay” timing for finishing my race. My peers had doubted me. I had not believed in myself and my coach was the only one pushing. Although he had faith in me, I felt like he was a driver pushing an empty car up a hill. I just knew it was a matter of time until he was going to give up on me.

During the next track meet, I had to run the eight hundred meter race, again! But someone on my team had decided not to run and there was an opening two hundred meters. Even though my coach had declared me a “distance runner”, I felt like deep down inside I was a sprinter. My coach already had his mind made up that I was not fast enough or good enough to be categorized as a sprinter. However, I had the right to be asked which one I wanted to try to be. This dark cloud of doubt from the team made feel as though I was not worthy of being on the team at all. It was like a sprinkle of motivation. I broke out of the sheltered bubble and announced,” I can run the open two hundred”. I could not understand why everyone looked so shocked at my statement, as if a runner as never taken the place of another. I just took their doubt as encouragement.

A new life had taken control of me as I put on my spikes as a sprinter, not a distance runner but a sprinter. There were six lanes on the track and only four runners. We were positioned on a diagonal. I felt like I had lost even before I started. The official called, “Runners on your mark, get set-“BOOM! The gun shot up in the air and blasted. I took off running. In third for five seconds I was edging and craving that number one spot. I was like a car with a turbo engine. I thought to myself, “Just a couple more meters, come on, pass her.” I ran through the finish line, out and past it actually. I was in first place at the end of the race. I had left that meet with way more than I had when I entered it. I figured out that no one is made to help you guide your way in failure or success. Only you are truly in control of your outcome. I believed in myself, worked hard, and had earned my loss and my win. I was that rare plant growing from the concrete with such beautiful and divine stems and roots.