Out of breath, I was desperately trying to reach the finish line. With a mud splattered back I was trying to maneuver along the treacherous track. Gasping for breath as various people passed me I thought to myself, "Oh no, I'm getting further and further behind." On my way to the bridge I encountered some of my fellow classmates starting to lag. With a burst of speed I passed them.
Shocked at how much mud had clung on to my shoes, I began to walk. Lagging behind again, I thought a steady jog would help. Pushing myself I picked up my pace. Halfway through the track though I felt a feeling of dread come as my muscles started to ache with pain.
Unsure of where my whereabouts I heard the sound of cheering and I was sure I was near the finish line. Drained of energy, I started to walk. My determination and perseverance disintegrated as I got nearer and nearer to the finish line.
Close to the finish line, I thought I should really sprint now but I was too exhausted. To be honest I wasn’t really proud of my determination, since I walked nearly the whole way. It didn’t really matter to me what I had placed, in the end its all about participating.