To everyone out there who likes to run for fun. Keep on keepin' on.

Preview audio:

storyj.mp/ahinknd7bc8x

Table of Contents:

Personal Narrative p. 3-32

Poetry p. 33-39

Non-fiction p. 40-42

Personal Narrative

Thump, thump, thump. My heart feels like it is going to explode out of my chest. Each breath is ragged and hurts my lungs. I can not feel my legs anymore. There is a sharp pain in between my ribs. I am so close to finishing, but can I muster the strength to keep going? Yes, I tell myself. Come on Ali, finish strong. Then, I see it; I see the finish line.

Let’s be clear, I was not very athletically inclined when I was younger. I would call my five-year-old self disastrously uncoordinated. The first day of soccer practice, I was so excited to wear my new uniform and cleats. I had a pink soccer ball that I had been practicing with at home.

Unfortunately, I should have practiced a little bit more because I accidentally kicked Isabella Rodriguez in the shin instead of kicking the soccer ball. After that incident, I decided to try goalie. That couldn’t be too hard right? Wrong. I found being goalie much harder than actually playing, but at least I wasn’t harming any of the other girls.

I continued my goalie career with little success. Even at a young age, I felt the shame of letting the members of my team down. I yearned to score a goal or at least stop the other team from scoring. During our final game of the season, the score was tied: three to three.

I had been sitting on the sidelines when a flying soccer ball made contact with none other than Isabella Rodriguez’s face. As Isabella made her way off the field, my coach signed deeply and looked down at me. I was going to play goalie at our final game! I scurried as fast as my legs could take me and positioned myself in front of the goal.

My only thoughts were to do everything in my power to stop the other team from scoring. The ball traveled with dangerous speed down the field! When I finally noticed that the ball was coming towards the goal, I was too late to respond. I wished I had super speed so I could stop the ball! Unfortunately, I never developed that super power. The other team scored and we lost our final game.

Another super power I did not possess was flexibility. After two long months in gymnastics, I could not progress to the next level because of my inability to do a cartwheel! My gangly legs were too long and always seemed to get in my way. Those tiny, petite girls could do five cartwheels in a row, but I could not do a single one.

They made it seem so effortless. Being the tallest girl was not something I was proud of. I seemed to tower over all of the other kids my age. The girls called me chicken legs and giraffe. I saw myself as an ugly ducking with frizzy, curly hair. Little did I know that my long legs would come in handy later in life.

Another challenge in gymnastics was the balance beam. The strong, brown beam rose a few feet into the air. As I cautiously took each step, my feet seemed to be way too large. One misstep and I would come crashing down to the stiff blue mats. I told myself to keep going and concentrate on not falling.

As I approached the middle of the beam, my teacher wanted me to gracefully jump into the air and land, light as a feather on the beam. I knew this wasn’t going to end well. Giraffes do not jump! I looked straight ahead and raised my arms into the air. Taking a deep breath, I steadied by quickly beating heart. One, two, three! I was airborne!

As soon as I had leaped into the air, I felt gravity pulling me down. One foot landed on the beam, while the other splayed out to the right! I tried to use my arms to balance, but it was too late. My body thumped loudly on the ground as the other girls laughed at me. I discovered I was not cut out for the Olympics gymnastic team.

My failure of sports continued into my middle school years of participating in annual Field Days. Meant to raise school spirit, I thought of Field Day as an opportunity to collect more participation ribbons. It was my worst nightmare. The whole day was dedicated to sporting events.

I went from event to event getting hit in the face with a basketball, tripping over myself in flag football, and even missing all of the pins in bowling. Again, I was a disappointment to the other members of my team.

Finally, in my 8th grade year, I won two first place medals! The first event was new that year and I decided to sign up and try it. It did not involve any round objects to hit me in the face! I picked the least athletically involved sport: cup stacking.

The goal of cup stacking is to take six cups and stack them in a specific pattern. There was one huge problem; it was a relay event! I rallied a small group of my best friends who loathed Field Day as much as I did. We were a team of misfits, but managed to become cup stacking champions.

When it was finally time for our cup stacking event, my team was ready. We were dressed in green superhero costumes complete with masks and home sewed capes. I gave a small pep talk to my friends.

“This is our time to shine team. We are going up against some stiff competition. The Gold Gladiators have been taunting us all day, but they will not stop us from achieving our goal of winning! Some important things to remember: try not to trip over yourself, run in the correct direction, and finally, STACK THOSE CUPS!”

We high fived and hugged each other. I lead my team to the starting line as the Golden Gladiators lurked behind us. I felt my cape catch on something. As I turned around, I saw Michael Ferguson’s size 10 foot stepping on my cape.

Michael Ferguson was the biggest bully in school. He was already almost six feet tall and could easily crush me like a tiny bug. I tugged my cape free as Michael said, “you better make sure you don’t trip on your own cape, loser!” My team was quick to jump in and lead me away from the taunts. I told myself not to get worried, but to be honest; I was terrified of letting my team down again.

All of the teams waited at the starting line. I was chosen as the last person to run. Three, two, one! The relay had begun! Our first member stacked the cups at lightening speed and raced back to the starting line. My hands twitched in anticipation. We were tied with the Golden Gladiators.

Before I knew it, it was my time to cup stack. My teammate’s cheers motivated me to run faster. I approached the table and to my dismay, Michael Ferguson appeared next to me. The world went quiet as I focused all of my energy on not knocking the cups over. Cheers from the crowd quieted to a whisper.

I nimbly stacked while creating a strong tower of cups. A gust of wind tugged at my cape. In my peripheral vision, I saw Michael Ferguson’s cups topple to the ground. This was my chance! I stacked the last cup and ran faster than I ever have to the finish line.

Thump, thump, thump. The finish line shines like a beacon of light as I sprint towards it. The crowd’s cheers get louder and louder. My legs are aching, but I quicken my pace. I fly past the finish line and am greeted by friends and family congratulating me.

My heart is still racing as I glance up at the clock to see my finish time. 22:07. Could it be? I beat my personal record time for running a 5K! Although I’m still trying to catch my breath, a huge smile crosses my face because I am the first female finisher. “You did it!” My mom yells and hugs me. I take a sip of water and realize my accomplishment.

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To everyone out there who likes to run for fun. Keep on keepin' on.

Preview audio:

storyj.mp/ahinknd7bc8x

Table of Contents:

Personal Narrative p. 3-32

Poetry p. 33-39

Non-fiction p. 40-42

Personal Narrative

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"Multi-Genre Book LAE4314"

kannal95

The story is a personal narrative of a young girl named Ali, who struggles with sports and athleticism throughout her childhood. Despite her initial failures in soccer, gymnastics, and other sports, she eventually finds success in cup stacking and running.

(42 pages)

Privacy level: PUBLIC

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