Chinea Lowe
Professor Okocha
English 1010
20 June 2014
One Hundred Nine Feet Six Inches

I was the first throw in the final flight for the discus throw at the District meet in Perry. My arms were strong but my hands were shaking and I felt this insatiable urge to crack my knuckles every few minutes. “Lowe up!” The official called my name, as finals were about to begin. I was walking into the finals in 5th place and only the top four qualify for Regionals. I was nervous and all I could keep telling myself to do was relax, keep your arm up, and stop thinking. I entered the circle from the back and moved into my throwing position. I took at least ten quick breaths before my heartbeat calmed down. Then, with three quick but deliberate steps, I launched my discus. I turned around and faced the back of the circle as soon as the disc left my hand, as I did not want to see where it landed. I hadn’t seen my throw but I felt it went far. After the official yelled, “Mark!” I exited through the back of the circle and waited for him to call out the distance. “One hundred nine feet, six inches!” At that moment my heart stopped beating. I was sure I had heard him wrong. The number could not have been right. With that distance, I knocked the leading throw down to 2nd place by two feet. I was going to win the District.
The discus throw has always been easy for me. Throughout my entire track career, I’ve always excelled in the event. I’ve come home with countless ribbons and medals and placing at our Conference meet always earned me my varsity letter. I love to throw and my ultimate goal is to make it to the State meet in Columbus. But this year I had an incredibly late start to the season, hence why I never imagined I’d qualify at Districts.
In addition to being on the track team four consecutive years prior to this year’s season, I’ve been a cheerleader for the same amount of time. Cheer is my life. So, when my squad qualified for the U.S Finals in Virginia Beach, starting my track season late to give time for cheer practices and our final competition was never a question. My squad went on to win our competition, but with such a late start in my track season, I was expecting all the missed practices and meets to show in my performance. However, after the first meet my predictions proved to be wrong. At my first meet, I came out with a second place medal and the next week I did the same at our Conference meet. I had one more meet. I was excited for Districts but like every season before this, even despite my recent accomplishments, I wasn’t expecting to qualify for the Regional meet.
Coming in the season so late, I was learning all the new things I needed for a perfect throw all at once. There was no time to waste. My coach drilled me. Keep your feet quick. Stay loose. Keep you arm up and back until the end of your throw. Land and Utilize power position. Push. Chest up. By the time Districts came around, I had to implement everything she told me into each one of my throws. I could do this. I could make it out. But I had to focus.
When I finally arrived at the Perry meet, my mood was entirely different than what it had been every time I was there before. I was no longer just going to have fun. I was no longer going only to make a personal record. I was going to compete. I was going to win the District. I was going to qualify for Regionals.
“Lowe up!” The official called my name for my second and third throws in finals. I went on to throw a 107’ 9” and a 101’ 3”. I hadn’t thrown farther than my opening throw, but it didn’t matter because I was going to win Districts! But then the girl I had knocked out of 1st place with my first throw was up. I could tell just by looking at how she walked to the circle that something was different. She entered through the back of the circle and then she turned around to begin her throw. Right before she began to spin I saw her face. She was different. She was angry. That anger drove her determination to get her number one spot back. Finally, she released her disc. The official yelled, “Mark!” and I dreaded the moment I would hear the distance. “One hundred and nineteen feet five inches!” She had won the District. I had finished in second place.
Despite not winning the district, I had accomplished something great. Only having four days of practice before officially starting my season, I had placed in three meets and I had created a new personal record at Districts. More importantly, finishing second qualified me for Regionals. So much accomplished in such a small amount of time was unheard of. I knew that with more time to practice next season the question will not be whether or not I’ll qualify for Districts and Regionals, but rather what place I’ll be taking home from states. I accomplished these things as a junior. I still have one more chance. My senior year, I will win.