When I was little, I was diagnosed with severe, chronic asthma. To say the least, growing up with this disease was definitely an obstacle. Most of my time was spent from the cold, silver bleachers with my mother, as we watched my older, much healthier, brother and sister play soccer, swim, and participate in activities unsuitable for asthmatic patients. As I grew older, I managed to participate in some of these activities, yet I was always held back by the overwhelming fear of not being able to breathe. Upon reaching high school, the feeling started to sink in as though this is how life would be for the rest of my life. However, on May 19, 2012, that feeling changed, when I decided to go that extra mile and accomplish something I had never done before.

Just like any other afternoon, I turned the cold, sliver handle on the black gate and made my way into the giant, red brick building. I was finally here: the JCC, where I had spent almost every day of the past nine months, my second home. As I scanned my card and made my usual route down the long, white hallway and up the back stairs to the fitness center, I was contemplating the number of laps I might try that day. I had made my way from walking on the dreaded treadmill all the way up to running eight laps around the dark blue line on the track, reaching the point where my asthma would begin to take over. However, each time I had run a lap on the track my eyes never failed to see the dark green sign reading: "19 laps = one mile." I was not quite there yet and probably never would be there.

After my usual stretch, I took my "pep talk" lap around the track to prepare for the everyday race I partook in against my asthma. I made my way to my traditional "starting line" and began the run that would change my life forever. With every stride, I was closer to setting my new goal. Even though I was still stuck with the fear of drowning in air, I was not going to stop until I had at least surpassed my eight laps.

Usually, once I had reached my new goal, I would stop; however, this time a voice in the back of my head was motivating me to keep going. Suddenly, I found myself at ten laps, then eleven, then twelve, and finally thirteen. At this point, I knew I was springing for a full mile and would not stop until my new goal was achieved. As I kept on running, the audience inside of my head, kept on cheering. The countdown to how many laps left was getting smaller and smaller and the new number, nineteen, seemed closer and closer. My heart was beating a million miles a minute, while my lungs, on the other hand, were struggling to keep up. Finally, the last lap had come. The final steps to my victory were near. All that I could think to myself was that I had done it: I had run a mile without stopping for the first time in my entire life. The feeling was liberating, as if I had finally broken from the shackles which had been holding me down for the past 17 years. I could not help but flash a giant smile across my face, and I could care less who was there to see. I had just accomplished the biggest goal of my entire life and had never been more proud of myself then in that single moment.

Since the day I ran my first continuous mile, I have continued to run almost every day that I have the chance. Now that I have attained this skill, I would not trade running for the world. The feeling of overcoming a great fear is something one would not want to ever give back in his or her lifetime. Fighting the fear of my asthma has now instilled in me the confidence and determination to never give up on the challenges that may come throughout life and to always go the extra mile.