Levi Timothy

Mrs. Jackie Burr, Instructor

English 1010, Section 2
September 8, 2016
Essay
I stare out across the trails in the almost desert like environment with the sagebrush
standing erect, trying desperately to hide what is behind it, and the cedar trees off to the left also
attempting to hide the trail that is begging for me to begin and try any way to conquer it. I am at
a cross country meet. This is the place where hopes and dreams come true, or they are crushed. I
am at the Herriman Cross Country Invitational. The place where a human's mental and physical
capabilities are put to the test. You have to prepare yourself in every way possible if you are to
come here. As I gaze across the trails it reminds me of the many workouts I did here to prepare
myself for such a task.
Back near the finish line I seem all the teams setting up camp for the day. They lounge
about like it is a hot summer day on the beach and this is a vacation. As i approach them I see the
fear in their eyes like a turtle poking its head out of its shell waiting for the opportunity to come
out. I do see many people relaxing because they have no idea the hurt they are about to bring
upon themselves. I see many people in pure concentration as they are playing a game on their
phone and cannot quite pass the level they are on and they are trying their hardest to think how to
strategize to beat it, and this is the way they are looking now as they stare at the field of torture in
their eyes that is so plainly clear. I see those who have done this before and know what they must
do to prepare. They are drinking the water from the jugs like they have been in the desert for
days without any sort of substance. They eat carefully as to not ruin their chance to accomplish
their goals for this race. I hear whispers amongst the crowd. I listen closer and hear some say

things as This is the hardest course in Utah and Be Careful at The Mother Cussa or Has
anyone seen my sandwich? I laugh to myself and return to my team as they continue their
private conversations.
My race is soon. My teammates tell me we have to warm up. We leave and I try to listen
to my body, mind, and block out the sounds of cheering of families come to see their children.
We leave to warm up, and we head out on the trails to get a feel for what we are going to do. As
we go runners from my team pass by as they race, and I can see they determination in their eyes
that they will not let the pain over power them. We leave the course and I can smell the sweet
scent of the sagebrush. I feel my feet hitting the ground and sending dirt into the air, and I taste
the dirt as it drifts through the air and it fills me with motivation. As we return I am putting on
my spikes for the race and i look around at all the different kind of spikes. Some are red some are
green, a few black with the occasional white. I look at mine and examine them. They are black
with red laces. They are slim to fit my feet in the best way. They have a few rips but that gives
them character. I jog over with my team to the start line. It is very dusty as we get nearer. The
other teams are already there. The start line is covered with tiny rocks, and a thin line of white
paint as a marker for the start. I notice the other teams staring at us as we aproach and the look
upon their face is anger and envy. We do our pre race rituals and wait. I listen as the other teams
whisper and offer words of prayer, or words of encouragement. They starter comes to the line
and explains what we are about to do. I am not paying attention because I have done this already,
but instead I am looking at the people that came to watch. I see family and friends waiting to
cheer me on. I see my team who has finished ready to give me words of encouragement. We are
now at the line. The starter raises his gun fires, and the race has begun.

I feel the adrenaline running through my body. I am pushed from behind after we start
and sprint to get away from the person behind me. I feel the rush of wind as I sprint past people
already slowing down. As the race goes on my teammate and friend catch up to me and we run
together past the other teams. We pass the first mile mark and I can see the fear and fatigue
setting into the other runners around me. I press on and we come to a part of the trail were the
dust sits in the air and makes you choke on every breath. We pass the second mile marker. And I
look up and behold the Mother Cussa, a one hundred and fifty meter long hill. It gives off the
impression on running up a cliff. I sprint past runners to the top and they immediately begin to
walk and sob uncontrollably. I get to the top and my legs are on fire. The feel like they are going
to give up on me but I push through the pain. I begin the last half mile of the race and I can feel
every part of my body wanting to give up. I see the finish line and push so hard that I begin
seeing spots and can't make out everything around me. I cross the line and my coach is off to my
right and he reads my time and tells me I did a good job today and to be proud of myself.