My chest heaves, beads of sweat roll off my forehead, my lungs gasp ... I love to run. Running is not so much a passion as it is a yearning. It's a painful, disgusting sport almost entirely devoid of any glory or gratification, yet peaceful and satisfying. My body aches after a good race or a long day at practice, but for some reason I can never pass up an opportunity to sprint those one hundred …showed first 75 words of 385 total…

…showed last 75 words of 385 total…finish line. I push my mind, body and soul to the limit in a never-ending struggle for self-improvement, ignoring other competitors. If I come in last, but still manage to shave one tenth of a second off my time, I consider my effort a success. Although I've only been on the track team for a few years, I've been running all my life. I don't run away from my problems, but always toward my goals.