top of page
Search

When the whistle blows again

“You have to fall before you fly,” they said. I have always flown, but I’ve never really experienced the opposite. Today I encountered an incident that made me realise something. Something fundamental. Something that I may not have been aware of.


After being selected for the most prestigious athletic tournament after winning the state meet, here I was, ready to race. I kept shifting my weight from one foot to the other and tilted my head to gaze at the clock hung on the chipped white wall and half-past nine stared back at me. The races were going to commence soon.


Shortly, I heard the announcement, loud and clear, that it was time for the under-14 category to get on the track for the hundred metres hurdles sprint. I snapped out of my thoughts frantically and shifted my gaze from the clock, as it dawned upon me that I was a part of that group. This hit me like a frayed train


barreling towards me at 100km per hour. It was time for me to get on that racing track and give it my all.


A young 12-year-old girl had somehow gathered her courage to sprint at that event. That girl was me.


The whistle blew loud and clear, piercing my ears. I dashed with a speed like never before with my legs skyrocketing in the air, jumping over the obstacles. I was in the lead until I hurtled down onto the red track; my legs remained entangled, my left foot over my right. It felt like I was hurtling to an invisible floor; tumbling through the layers of the Earth.


My jaw dropped and I remained flabbergasted, unable to comprehend that I had fallen. Everything faded into a blur for at least a few seconds and my head started spinning like a ferris wheel. I still pushed the ground with my hands and stood up, despite the agonizing pain shooting up my left knee. I limped over one of the last hurdles, then the next and finally neared the red finish line. I crossed it. I wasn’t happy that I had fallen for sure, but I was proud of myself for not giving up, and more importantly for finishing the race.


I walked away from the podium and away from the crowd. I slowly made my way towards the exit. My knee was hurting. But, I knew I was strong and I knew I wasn’t giving up on my dreams.


***


I am a 16-year-old girl now and I am an athlete. I have had some highs and a few lows in my athletic journey, but I will never give up on my dreams. And when the whistle blows the next time, I will run faster than ever. Jump higher than ever. And leap stronger than I have ever before.



39 views0 comments

Recent Posts

See All

From passion to glory

Passion is often considered the driving force behind success, and in the world of sports, this holds true for many legendary athletes. The journey from a deep-rooted passion for a sport to achieving g

Comentarios


More from us...
Weekly Newspaper!

Weekly Newspaper!

From politics and sports to puberty and movie reviews- we cover it all! Read our weekly newspaper issues NOW!

Start your own newspaper!

Start your own newspaper!

Start a TT Tabloid and join teens in France, Pakistan and America on a journey towards amplifying the voice of your own community!

Dailee content!!

Dailee content!!

From inspiring livestreams to daily news headlines, our Instagram is a youth hub with something for everyone! Check it out and never miss an update from yours trulee...

bottom of page