There I was, triumphantly standing infront of hundreds of kids as my name came over the loudspeaker. I can barely hear anything over the clapping of my classmates. This was only my first year in Cross-Country and I've already made a big impact on everyone by proving that I could stickthrough the whole season. I remember my first race, the "Hickory Invitational". The Varsity had already ran, and only Jr. High was left. "10 Minutes Until Jr.High boys" the Hickory coach yelled over the loudspeaker as i was putting the last spike in my shoe. As I walked up to the starting line I saw some of my competition. Tall and skinny runners lined the starting line. Sweat beading on my forehead as I did my usual warm-ups, I could here the other coaches talking to their runners. When my coach came up to the starter box we went over what I should do and then he left. As soon as he left the starting box a man with a shiny silver starter pistol walks up. "Runners Set!""Go!" he yelled as the sound of gunshot echoed through the air. I went about 700 metres then fell back to conserve energy for my finishing sprint. I was still well ahead of 5 people when i felt a jolt of pain shoot up my spine. I then fell into a heap on the ground. When I stood up I noticed a hole where I had stepped. I couldn't finish. As I hobbled over to the Sports Medicine tent my coach walked over. "What happened to you out there?! You were doing so well!" he yelled. "I stepped in a hole and twisted my ankle" I explained. That was my first loss. After that loss I toughened up and won the respect of my peers. Through the season I improved exponentially, and now I am standing infront of hundreds of kids, as a winner.