I got to wear the super hero cape, I rescued someone in distress—even if it was just myself…. I run because I can. I can run 3 miles hard. There were also a handful of entrants that touched on the idea of running simply because they are instinctively and inherently runners. I particularly liked these thoughts as well. I will always be a runner, even if I go years without running.
I found these essays to be creative, enjoyable, inspirational, and valuable. One of these made such an impression that it was chosen as the runner-up to the best overall essay. Training in the French Alps. Here it is in its entirety:. Isabel reached the darkening refuge after Esther. Absorbed with making tea, Esther does not hear Isabel. As natural as the fall of dark, there comes the desire to push on.
The heat was fading from the ground. Broken limestone underfoot still showed whiter than the sky. Leaves brushed foreheads as they crossed a slim watery cleft; even in twilight its rowan-trees had brilliantly orange berries.
Isabel noticed a smaller path that broke off. It was definite, as if some animal or person had set off, several times, here where there was no obvious change of prospect to take you from the main path. But up it went, boldly, diagonally; you would have to want to go that way, and now Isabel too, Isabel wanted that. Because it had, so would she. Without a break in step, she turned. The gradient steepened, she strengthened her effort. Esther followed; Isabel was leading, and if she was to take them this way, then she would; it was not conscious but in that trust they were partners.
The track ended in a gully where the small animal had desired water; Isabel laughed, that was all it was, but again that was everything. Isabel leaned against the side and took water in her hands. The half-moon was dark, and water spilt down their faces. Creative, well written, and full of poetic symbolism.
Thank you, Lawrence, for taking the time to share this. I look forward to running with you this year in Alaska! Without further ado, here is the winning essay:. Unwilling to concede that one man in tweed figured it all out years ago in just three words, I looked for better explanations. I had more words and a World Wide Web at my disposal and, damn it, I was going to use them! The results were uninspiring.
I had to dig deeper for answers. Hypnosis, Rorschach tests, Jagermeister — attempts to circumvent our own defenses take many forms. Could it be that my true running motivation lurked on my iPod?
I promptly copied all lyrics from my running playlists onto a spreadsheet and created a word cloud showing terms that appeared the most.
The results were startling. It seems past shortcomings accumulated until they formed a mountain impeding my happiness. After each run, this mountain of shadows seems a little smaller, as if the dirt shaken off my shoes came from its summit.
With enough miles, perhaps it will eventually disappear. In conclusion, I want to reiterate how thankful I am for everyone taking the time to submit such thought provoking and personal essays. Every time I run, I race myself, and once a week, I race my peers. I am constantly evaluating myself, reaching a deep understanding of who I am. Through running, I have discovered what I am willing to sacrifice, what I can tolerate, what my priorities are.
To even be able to run is such a beautiful gift. I realized this after being injured for almost an entire season. When I was able to run again, I came to appreciate the things we often take for granted. This summer I met a girl who had chronic hip problems and therefore, could never hope to be as mobile as I am.
She compensated with other things in her life, but as she watched me run, and through the way in which she talked to me, I could tell there was a yearning to be able to do what I could.
It is that mentality I have when I run. Running is not a waste, on the contrary, not running when you can would seem the truly wasteful act. Cross country is run in the fall, and the races take place over every terrain imaginable. Track is in the spring and is run on that oval that surrounds the football field. They are two different sports, united by the common thread of running. I do not care about such trivialities as what type of surface is run on, what time of year it is, or even how long the race is, All I care about is running.
So for me, there is only one sport between the two, the sport of running. The sporting nature is what drives me to work hard. Running brings out the inherent human competitive spirit in me. As children we have all raced to get to the lunch hall before everyone else, and it was simply unacceptable if someone tried to cut in line once you had arrived. During childhood, there is no greater joy than racing your sibling to the car, or to the surf at the beach, or to the nearest thing you can both see, wherever, as long as you make it there first.
I experience this everyday when I run with my friends. We slowly pick up the pace until we are sprinting coming in through the back gate of our school after a good eight miler. The closer you get to the finish line, the more you are driven to win.
I never won a real race until a few months ago. The reason for competing in a race is rarely to win. While it sounds contradictory to its very nature, it is true. The joy comes from knowing that you gave it all you had, and knowing that you are better than you were last week.
As a sport, the greatest opponent you have, and the one you will face the most, is yourself. Sure, it sounds cheesy, kinda like a lame Nike commercial, But I have seen this opponent.
He runs besides me during a workout when I feel tired. When I push myself to my limits, he runs behind me. It hurts for a while, but after every good run, there is an amazing feeling of pride in my heart. I may come in last or a heartbreaking second, but as long as I feel that strange presence just behind me, and that loud voice in my head saying, you gave more than I thought you could I know I am the victor.
I only remember who won about five percent of the races I have been in, but I remember almost every one of my steps along the way.
Apr 17, · Hi, can you help me look through this piece? Thanks so much! Running away David was fed up. The last bit of injustice was just too much for anyone to take.
running away from life Essay Running away from life People sometimes run away from their problems and even from their life just like Willie Aames said “I started running away when I was five years old.
Read this essay on Running Away. Come browse our large digital warehouse of free sample essays. Get the knowledge you need in order to pass your classes and more. Only at canlimacizlemek.tk". Teenagers - Running Away From Home. 2 Pages Words November Saved essays Save your essays here so you can locate them quickly!
I close my door and lie back on the bed as I give up again on running away from home. Report Abuse Print. National Essay Contest; Cover Art Contest; Educator of . Home Away From Home Each small step it took to move into my new home meant bigger and brighter canlimacizlemek.tk the drive down to IPFW to when I laid my head down to sleep was a positive moment that changed my life. This transition was the beginning of a new chapter in my life that I was proud to accomplish. Getting to this stage in my life I .