relay team comes into sight. I push my legs harder and harder, but I cannot
make them move any faster. There is only one hundred meters left to go before
lane like a jet about to lift off, I see the fans cheering in my peripheral
vision but I remain focused on my objective ahead of me. I move closer and
closer to the red zone, now counting my steps and pacing off the distance in my
mind to the sprinter ahead of me. I ready myself and keep telling myself “be
patient, wait” then …..”Go,” I yell as he harnesses his adrenaline for a good
should I give him the baton? There can be no mistakes on the hand off. If I
miscalculate my steps, it could be disastrous for the team. As I sprint at his
newly energized heels, I yell “Stick!” He reaches his arm back in a robotic-
like manner and I slam the baton in his hand, so he will not lose a handle on it.
quick stop. My journey is over but the next runner’s has just begun.
times over. This may seem like insanity to others but to me it is a way to
working to their potential, I will not make varsity if I do not strive to be the
best I can be, on and off the track. The Baton is my hopes and aspirations and
I have to protect it and not lose sight of it. Because I am a long way from
being the fastest man on the team, I have to work even harder, which poses a
challenge to me. I am not discourages by this but encouraged to work even more
assiduously, which makes the victory all the more sweeter. The relay, inmy
the other man is going to do and when he is going to do it. I know I could not
Though, working together as a team, we can form one graceful body that can not
be overcome. With the perception as life being race, I feel it is my duty to
run as fast as I can and as hard as I can and just don’t drop the baton.