Narrative Essay On The Kite Runner

I often mind myself in the awestruck sight of my friends when I pass by them, running during my practices. They watch me as if they were seeing Mo Farah himself, with his long elegant strides that gracefully propel him forward, past his rivals, past roaring crowds, and right over the thin white line, telling him he’s won it all. To them, they know no one else who runs, and thus in my almighty five foot ten, lanky limbed runner's body type stature, I must be the new, slightly more milky white Mo Farah. They all almost hold the same idea that I’m a gifted runner, and there’s no way they could be good themselves. What i don’t think they’ve noticed is the fact that I started off from the same place that they are all at ,and I’ve only been slowly improving each year. When I first started running, I was always one of the slowest kids in each race. If my place in a race moved up, it was only because there were less kids in that
Throughout the years it helped me relax and relieve stress from schoolwork, but more importantly it gave me something to strive for and helped me to learn to be able to push myself to my limits to achieve excellence in. After after freshman year I wasn’t getting the results I wanted, so I started to rethink the possibilities of perfecting my training as a runner. I spent each practice with a clear mindset to workout as hard as I could ,and when I got home I started testing different regiments of strength training to fine tune my body. From there I started to look at the smaller things in my life that I could change to support my body, and ultimately my running. I read articles and books about mental fortitude, fitness, and nutrition. My diet changed from the american junk food diet to one of whole grains, healthy fats, and lots of fruits and vegetables. I started to sit less and walk more, and used small little psychological tricks to improve my ability to push harder and