The debut of a personal statement
Posted: Tue Dec 21, 2010 10:43 pm
This is a first draft of what I hope can be turned into a quality personal statement. It's pretty raw and probably needs a lot of refinement and work. Any criticism would be greatly appreciated. Thanks in advance.
It is a question that I have heard countless times and one that I will be asked countless times more. The question takes on numerous forms, but boils down to the same inquiry, “Why do you run?”.
Four years ago on a sweltering afternoon in July, typical of a Missouri summer, I decided to go for my first run. A mere two miles was the goal I had in mind. A distance I mistakenly believed I would be able to complete without any real difficulties.
By nature I am a competitive and aggressive individual, playing soccer, football, and other sports growing up. Despite my athletic pursuits I was always a reluctant runner.
A large part of my reluctancy was rooted in how hard running is. I had a tendency to shy away from difficult endeavors, and instead focus my efforts on activities that came naturally to me. Running was not among these. I was a terrible runner. In school I was always the kid finishing last in PE class. The only time I ever ran was as punishment issued by one of my coaches. Thinking of running as sport in itself was a foreign concept. Why anyone would want to run mile after mile was an enigma that I could not wrap my head around.
That first run went how one could imagine it going. As a former defensive end, I did not possess the typical body of a long distance runner nor the aerobic capacity to carry me through to the finish. By the time I had ran a mile and a half, I was bent at the waist, gasping for air in a futile attempt to quell the burning in my chest.
The disappointing end to that first run led to eventual discovery. The failure to finish the two miles bothered me a great deal. I made it my goal to continue running until I could finish the distance without stopping. The day when I managed the two miles, satisfaction washed over me, and with it, the understanding of why millions of people put themselves through the pain and exhaustion.
Any of feeling of accomplishment was short-lived; quickly replaced with wide-eyed ambition. I had proven to myself that I could put in the work and achieve running two miles. Who was to say that I couldn’t run three miles? Three turned into four, four into seven, seven into ten, and so on.
Each run became a reward because I knew every one was a piece of my goal. No longer avoiding the difficult, I relished in the demanding and punishing nature of my runs. Scorching heat, blustering wind, and icy snow storms didn’t serve as deterrents, but obstacles that made the finish all the better and more gratifying.
So why do I run? I run because of what it has taught me about myself. Running has shown me that I don’t have to be intimidated by how difficult something may seem. That if I keep my feet moving, my head up, and my eyes forward I can accomplish and overcome the most daunting of tasks. Running has taught me that I am capable of much more than I ever imagined: fashioning a self-confidence that I never had before. No exceptional talent or special equipment is needed for running. Instead, all it takes is an unrelenting determination to put one foot in front of the other until the finish: a stubbornness to never quit when the road steepens or when the weather worsens.
The characteristics distilled in me from running do not remain independent of the rest of my life; they have become central to who I am and permeate through every decision I make and every activity I shoulder. Running has not played a central role in my desire to attend law school, but equipped with the attributes I have garnered through all the miles ran, I am confident and prepared for any challenge that lies ahead.
It is a question that I have heard countless times and one that I will be asked countless times more. The question takes on numerous forms, but boils down to the same inquiry, “Why do you run?”.
Four years ago on a sweltering afternoon in July, typical of a Missouri summer, I decided to go for my first run. A mere two miles was the goal I had in mind. A distance I mistakenly believed I would be able to complete without any real difficulties.
By nature I am a competitive and aggressive individual, playing soccer, football, and other sports growing up. Despite my athletic pursuits I was always a reluctant runner.
A large part of my reluctancy was rooted in how hard running is. I had a tendency to shy away from difficult endeavors, and instead focus my efforts on activities that came naturally to me. Running was not among these. I was a terrible runner. In school I was always the kid finishing last in PE class. The only time I ever ran was as punishment issued by one of my coaches. Thinking of running as sport in itself was a foreign concept. Why anyone would want to run mile after mile was an enigma that I could not wrap my head around.
That first run went how one could imagine it going. As a former defensive end, I did not possess the typical body of a long distance runner nor the aerobic capacity to carry me through to the finish. By the time I had ran a mile and a half, I was bent at the waist, gasping for air in a futile attempt to quell the burning in my chest.
The disappointing end to that first run led to eventual discovery. The failure to finish the two miles bothered me a great deal. I made it my goal to continue running until I could finish the distance without stopping. The day when I managed the two miles, satisfaction washed over me, and with it, the understanding of why millions of people put themselves through the pain and exhaustion.
Any of feeling of accomplishment was short-lived; quickly replaced with wide-eyed ambition. I had proven to myself that I could put in the work and achieve running two miles. Who was to say that I couldn’t run three miles? Three turned into four, four into seven, seven into ten, and so on.
Each run became a reward because I knew every one was a piece of my goal. No longer avoiding the difficult, I relished in the demanding and punishing nature of my runs. Scorching heat, blustering wind, and icy snow storms didn’t serve as deterrents, but obstacles that made the finish all the better and more gratifying.
So why do I run? I run because of what it has taught me about myself. Running has shown me that I don’t have to be intimidated by how difficult something may seem. That if I keep my feet moving, my head up, and my eyes forward I can accomplish and overcome the most daunting of tasks. Running has taught me that I am capable of much more than I ever imagined: fashioning a self-confidence that I never had before. No exceptional talent or special equipment is needed for running. Instead, all it takes is an unrelenting determination to put one foot in front of the other until the finish: a stubbornness to never quit when the road steepens or when the weather worsens.
The characteristics distilled in me from running do not remain independent of the rest of my life; they have become central to who I am and permeate through every decision I make and every activity I shoulder. Running has not played a central role in my desire to attend law school, but equipped with the attributes I have garnered through all the miles ran, I am confident and prepared for any challenge that lies ahead.