<p>Prompt: Evaluate a significant experience, achievement, risk you have taken, or ethical dilemma you have faced and its impact on you (500 words max)</p>
<p>An Unfinished Race</p>
<pre><code> I was 14 and in the body of a toddler; I still remember crying, whimpering, and requiring Moms help to get out of bed. Three years later, although I can move autonomously, my lower back and right hip flexor are fragile under even the mildest stress. At least Mom and Dad must be proud to see me walk for the second time.
As the Top Newcomer freshman captain under Coach Brock, I led the freshmen with a 3-mile record of 20:05. My time wasnt THAT exceptional, but, for a 100-pound, scrawny novice, it was impressive. Yet I yearned to push my limits further (the sub-20 psychological barrier was a huge deal). Sadly, my career halted at the starting line due to overexertion. I still remember lying paralyzed on my bed, croaking to Mom for another Aleve pill, my crutches, and assistance. While I was having a hard time moving around, my teammates were already breaking the 20 minute barrier.
After the orthopedist gave the go-ahead, I believed I could begin my comeback from last place. During post-recovery training, I said to myself, My friends surpassed me in one year. I need to catch up. Moderate runs to breezy, pleasant San Marino felt unbearable. I felt my ankles shaking the dust off their gears and creaking on a bouncy all-weather track. But though my body was repairable, my mind wasnt. How was I going to match everyones expectations? I wasnt. I couldnt.
Today, my personal record remains at 20:05. My excruciating injury and mental setbacks ended my high school running career at the first checkpoint.
</code></pre>
<p>In retrospect, its ironic. I, the fastest freshman, ended up furthest away from the finish line. Whenever cross-country friends pestered me about my inevitable return, I replied with a forced smile, I dont know, man, maybe next season. Whenever cross-country made headlines in the school newspaper, I was reminded of my lack of conviction. Whenever my joints twinged, I realized my injury didnt force to me retire. I did.
Coincidentally, ex-Coach Brock is now my AP Literature substitute teacher. After class one day, he approached me. Jestin, I know youre still regretting not returning to cross country.
Sorry, Coach Brock. I just couldnt do it.
Whoa, dont apologize. Youre still growing. When you decide to go out for a run in your mid-20s, when your body is more developed, youll find yourself free from a high school regimen and expectations.
I realize now that expectations of friends, rivals, and even Coach Brock arent meant to be taken as the sole goals of my life, whether in sports or even Calculus. Just like a toddler, I must walk not to please, but to grow and reach my own goals. And I know for sure that one day Ill be proud to see myself truly run for the second time.</p>
<p>[Not part of the essay]
This is a failure essay, to be Captain Obvious. But my counselor opposes this failure topic because I'm applying to questbridge among people who "will show only strengths."
Is it wise to do a failure essay if done effectively (my debate coach and friends agreed with me on the failure topic)</p>
<p>I appreciate any time taken from you friends. :D</p>