Persuasive Narrative Writing

Feeling exhausted, I focus on my breathing. I breath in through my nose and then out through my mouth, breath in and out. Repeat. After passing the mile mark, my coach is shrieking for me to relax, because I am on my way to qualify for cross country states. The top twenty girls qualify, and I have been dreaming of this day since freshman year. All I have to do is hold my position, and then I am golden. Suddenly, my legs begin to feel like jello. My running partner slowly fades ahead of me, and I cannot keep up. It feels like I am running backwards as the rest of my teammates pass me one by one. Fighting fatigue, I tell myself I am finishing this race, whether or not I have to crawl like a turtle to do so. I am crossing that finish line.

I go to the grass by where we will line up for the race and I put my spikes on. Making sure every spike is tight; I double knot the laces and stand up. Now my stomach really hurts. The nerves of a runner before a race are one of the worst things to handle. The announcer puts me in line and I take a deep breath once it’s my time to go up to the blocks. I set up my blocks for my standards and take off my sweats. The breeze hits my thighs as my tank top flows from side to side. The sun wishes me good luck just before I start my race. I slightly shake as the announcer tells us, “Runners to your mark!” and I get down. Shaking more vigorously now, my heart is pounding in my chest. It seems like hours waiting for him to yell, “Get set!” “Go!” but once he does I know it’s go time. I push off my blocks, and I run as fast as I can. I can feel my legs moving together in motion as the balls of my feet dig into the track. My spikes are doing their job in helping me grip to the surface as I make my way to the finish line. Neck and neck with the girl next to me I hope she gets winded out near the end and slows down so I can just scarcely make it past her. I feel like I am running as fast as a horse. Crossing that finish line and coming to a slow stop, I breathe heavily as I exhale in relief of being over. I did it, I’m done… and I did well. My legs raw, I get off the track. (AB) Some fellow sprinters congratulate me as I do the same to them. That is what’s nice about track, it seems like most of the people are very friendly. They have no problem congratulating you or talking to you about how nervous they are before a race. We know we are all in the same boat and all we want is to succeed. Every blue moon a distance runner will congratulate a sprinter but I don’t think it has ever happened to me. I don’t know if they are just caught up in their own world or if they are just being stingy about the whole

The flags are in sight and off on a wild sprint! I’m going and across the line I am! Exhausted but satisfied. I thought I saw my time was 28 minutes. I had to know the seconds. ( Yes, every second counts.) I was preparing myself mentally for what my time would be. I was eager to know. I ran to my Coach as soon as he was in sight. I ran to him and I immediately asked for my times. He told me and I had to see for myself. 28:04. 28:04!! I was excited! I can’t remember if I jumped up and down or not. Wouldn't be surprising. One thing I did for sure was, walked away and cried. Not only was it 28:04. It was my heart's desire. Coming close to the end of the season, I couldn’t see myself running a varsity time. So the lowest time I hoped I’d get would be 28 and it was!!

Breathing heavily, a million things run through my mind. I’m dying. I can’t feel my feet. My lungs aren’t taking in oxygen fast enough. However, the finish line and the satisfaction of knowing that I had gotten myself through three miles loom ahead. Clenching my fists, I force myself through the indoor track at JCC. The excitement and pride that I feel when I finally achieve my goal is indescribable.

The highs and lows of competition have constructed in me into an entirely new athlete. My first year of track and field and I made it to Far East by qualifying in the 4x800 relay. I guess you could call it beginner's luck. I would call it dedication and confidence. After almost a week of running and jumping events, the time has come to announce the winners of the banners. With the awkward silence sitting and waiting for the results to be told along with the rest of the crowd, the announcer finally broke the silence. “The D2 Girls Track Champions of 2015 is Zama American High.” This one night as emotional as an groom seeing his bride walk down the aisle knowing that she is all his. Have you ever wanted to take a moment and breathe in the air of accomplishing your

The use of persuasive rhetoric writing can be helpful in the working world, especially when you need people to follow you. Using Ethos, is a way to approach your audience by establishing common ground, instead of coming off as authoritative. Even if someone doesn’t have the same views as you, if you acknowledge their values and beliefs, it’s easier to persuade them, because they see you do care about their opinion. As I move forward in any form of communication it is important to keep that in mind, and next year I’ll being using it a lot as president of CAC. Being the president of club means you have to communicate with your members, and the general public. CAC is involved in getting others to help, with the biggest event we hold, Relay for Life.

This will help me in the future to remind me to be happy, and grateful for the opportunity to run as I do in my life. This race changed my point of view of “opportunity” to try and do things right the first time, and if I don’t, then forget about it because I can’t change it. Before this race, I felt as if I failed, everything was over, and the disappointment would never leave. For example, if I ran a terrible race, with a terrible time, I couldn't stop thinking about it for WEEKS. Now, I let it go and forget it ever happened. This also keeps me humble, by not letting me think about my accomplishments for too long, because there’s always a new opportunity. Walt Disney once

Sweat dripping from your chin, oxygen hard to find, legs feeling numb, eyesight blurred, dizziness setting in, coaches going crazy with words of encouragement and the finish line is only a few feet away. The final stretch is here and all you have to do is catch up to the kid running inches in front of you. You feel like every breath is your last, as your stride gets you that much closer to your opponent. Running out of space, moving legs at turbo speed and doing all you can to catch that kid. Your stomach feels as though as it is on fire, as you get a step the kid. Now you have to pass him and maintain your distance. You can hear the parents screaming your name, motivating you to run even faster. Now the finish is right there, with the adrenaline keeping you going you push yourself through the finish line. Once you pass it you can feel nothing, but your heart pounding like a drum against your chest. You can taste the lactic acid in your mouth, hear the ringing in your ears, see the blur of parents walking up to congratulate you on your efforts. You have done it, you have completed a cross country race.

“Good Job keep going, you can do it, run run faster, you got this!” These were the words coming from the audience as I was finishing my last 100 meters in the cold, pouring, rain during sectionals. I was in second place in my heat and my heart was thumping and I couldn't see through the water stains on my glasses, but I heard someone someone breathing hard and their spikes hitting the track as they ran behind me and I knew I had to push even harder.I remembered the rough trading I had in practice and knew I could do it.

1. The last time I enjoyed writing something would have to be in the argument and arguing class I took. In that class we got to construct persuasive essays, which was interesting, but the real fun came when we were asked to pick apart other students essays. When tasked with this it becomes extremely fun as the source gathering for many students was either using selective information, or outright lies. Using that, you could essentially tear into anyone fragmenting their arguments and leaving you with a nice sense of satisfaction that I really only get when I prove my superiority over someone in a quasi-powertrip.

Ready, set, “bang,” the starter gun goes off, thousands of people cheer, hundreds of runners on your left and right, and the only thing you’re focus on is crossing the finish line. Your heart is pounding, your stomach twists around itself, and the lactic acid builds in your legs to a point where all you can focus on is the pain that each step takes. But this is Cross Country. Outlasting the pain is part of the sport and if you hadn’t known that from the start you wouldn’t have joined right? And you wouldn’t have stayed all four years either.

I take a deep breath. This is the moment I have been training for. The announcer calls us to the starting line. We see that gun raise towards the sky. Ready. Set. Go. Then bang the gun goes off and hundreds of girls take off like they are being chased by an angry pack of wolves. 1 mile in and the pain begins to set in but I push through it. Legs weak and struggling the for air I fly past the second mile mark. Finally, I hear the crowd roaring and the finish line is in sight, I begin to sprint until my legs cannot move any faster. Crossing the finish line, I collapse to the ground. Running 3.1 miles as fast as you can will do that to anyone, but all the early morning and hot summer practices are all worth it in the end. Laying on the ground gasping for air, a smile full of pride stretches across my face because I am a runner and it is awesome.

My feet pounded on the uneven ground, each step increasingly difficult. My breath was loud, uneven to my ears. I could see the girl in front of me, her brightly colored uniform becoming smaller as she pulled ahead. It was now or never; if I did not surge now, there was no chance of making it. I took a deep breath and increased my pace, running harder than I ever had before. But it wasn’t enough. I crossed the finish line, grabbing a tree as I struggled to stand, and look at the timer. With a time of 21:42 for the girls varsity 5k race, I knew I had missed my goal, and my season was over.

This race was one of the first examples from which I had learned the power and importance of hardwork and determination. As I was emerging my teenage years, it was one of the most important lessons I had taken from that period of time; one that I still apply to my daily life. I had only started running for a couple weeks, in which my team and I ran through the frigid early spring weather, the scorching heat, and the fatigue after a seven-hour school day. All the work put in by not only myself, but my teammates and coaches, revealed to me the power dedication, hardwork, and determination has to bring about incredible

Hundreds of family and friends drive hours just to see a eighteen minute race with the possibility of winning being slim but, knowing this race can change someone's life. We get to the meet earlier than we should’ve thinking the traffic would have been horrible on the day of the State Cross Country Meet. Off in the distance we see big fancy busses with tons of runners from experienced facilities stretching in nothing but, the newest brand of athletic clothes. Feeling insecure about our ability to perform as everyone else that earned their spot their.