PS First Draft
Posted: Tue Sep 06, 2011 6:24 pm
Sweat dripped down my face and onto the grass below as I stared down at my newly won medal. Ostensibly, the medal signified only that I had successfully completed the requisite 13.1 miles of the South Jordan Half Marathon, and initially, that’s the only value I placed in it. Though tacky and likely made cheaply in some distant country, the medal now represents more to me than simply one race.
Growing up, I was always the target of less than savory nicknames and jokes. I was the fat kid, and everyone made sure I wasn’t quick to forget it. Names like “Cholesterol,” “Michelin Man,” and “Stay Puff Marshmallow” followed me down the halls of elementary and junior high and onto the football practice fields during high school. Looking back, I give my tormenters a “10” for creativity, and unfortunately, a “10” for effectiveness. While I always attempted to take the comments as good natured ribbing, I could never deny how much they hurt me. Even in my happy moments I was constantly reminded of my weight problem. I would laugh at a joke, and be laughed at for laughing because the fat on my face jiggled when I laughed. Even my mother, in a less considerate moment, told me to get my fat (expletive) out of her way. I was teased by those who were supposedly my friends about the way I looked in clothes and the way I ran. My father, a doctor, was constantly worried about my weight leading to high estrogen levels, which effectively emasculated me in my own mind.
By the time high school rolled around, my weight and the derisive comments peaked. I was a 245 pound mess. I felt as if those who were supposed to support me had abandoned me, and those who made fun of me had become more creative, more frequent, and more effective in their insults. I had no confidence to pursue anything; girls, academics, leadership positions, and new friendships were all out of the question. As all of this reached its pinnacle what was left of my self esteem began to unravel. Something snapped in me, and the summer before my junior year a transformation began.
I started a very restrictive diet. I limited myself to 1500 calories a day coupled with at least 30 minutes of vigorous physical activity. The weight didn’t come off easily, but I was able to bring myself to a more healthy weight by the time I finished my first semester of college and set out on my LDS mission to Brazil.
Brazil is where I really became the healthy and confident person that I am today, mostly due to my lucky pairing with a former Boston Marathon participant. He would often show me pictures from the many races he trained and competed in, and would share stories about the elation of the “runner’s high” and the satisfaction that comes with the completion of a long endurance race. At that point, I was in search of hobby that didn’t necessarily have to take up a lot of time, and was something that could translate to something more when I arrived back in the states after my two year sojourn.
Running and I became fast friends. I fell in love with the combination of the cool, yet humid mornings of southern Brazil, and the sound of my feet hitting the concrete with each stride. Two years passed more quickly than conceivably possible, and I arrived home a little bit taller, and whole lot fitter, weighing in at 165 pounds.
5 years and 80 pounds after my peak weight in high school, I crossed the finish line of my first competitive race, the South Jordan Half Marathon. To me, the medal I received that day represents not only the completion of a 13.1 mile course, but my personal victory over a lifelong struggle with weight and self-esteem. Completion of that race eased my doubts about my adequacy to accomplish tasks, silenced my critics, and put my past’s demons to rest.
The feeling of total victory I felt that day has given me not only the confidence necessary to excel in life, but a strong level of empathy for anyone struggling with crippling problems. Because of where I’ve been, and who I have become, I’ve cultivated a desire to help those who may still be in a rut. Law school and a subsequent legal career will allow me to work directly with many people who feel overwhelmed and hopeless about situations they may be facing. This empathy, coupled with my other credentials and skills would make me a solid addition to the incoming class.
It kind of tapers off there at the end... I'm pretty sure I need more of a conclusion.. any ideas? I'm also looking for any kind of feedback be it grammar or content related. Thanks.
Growing up, I was always the target of less than savory nicknames and jokes. I was the fat kid, and everyone made sure I wasn’t quick to forget it. Names like “Cholesterol,” “Michelin Man,” and “Stay Puff Marshmallow” followed me down the halls of elementary and junior high and onto the football practice fields during high school. Looking back, I give my tormenters a “10” for creativity, and unfortunately, a “10” for effectiveness. While I always attempted to take the comments as good natured ribbing, I could never deny how much they hurt me. Even in my happy moments I was constantly reminded of my weight problem. I would laugh at a joke, and be laughed at for laughing because the fat on my face jiggled when I laughed. Even my mother, in a less considerate moment, told me to get my fat (expletive) out of her way. I was teased by those who were supposedly my friends about the way I looked in clothes and the way I ran. My father, a doctor, was constantly worried about my weight leading to high estrogen levels, which effectively emasculated me in my own mind.
By the time high school rolled around, my weight and the derisive comments peaked. I was a 245 pound mess. I felt as if those who were supposed to support me had abandoned me, and those who made fun of me had become more creative, more frequent, and more effective in their insults. I had no confidence to pursue anything; girls, academics, leadership positions, and new friendships were all out of the question. As all of this reached its pinnacle what was left of my self esteem began to unravel. Something snapped in me, and the summer before my junior year a transformation began.
I started a very restrictive diet. I limited myself to 1500 calories a day coupled with at least 30 minutes of vigorous physical activity. The weight didn’t come off easily, but I was able to bring myself to a more healthy weight by the time I finished my first semester of college and set out on my LDS mission to Brazil.
Brazil is where I really became the healthy and confident person that I am today, mostly due to my lucky pairing with a former Boston Marathon participant. He would often show me pictures from the many races he trained and competed in, and would share stories about the elation of the “runner’s high” and the satisfaction that comes with the completion of a long endurance race. At that point, I was in search of hobby that didn’t necessarily have to take up a lot of time, and was something that could translate to something more when I arrived back in the states after my two year sojourn.
Running and I became fast friends. I fell in love with the combination of the cool, yet humid mornings of southern Brazil, and the sound of my feet hitting the concrete with each stride. Two years passed more quickly than conceivably possible, and I arrived home a little bit taller, and whole lot fitter, weighing in at 165 pounds.
5 years and 80 pounds after my peak weight in high school, I crossed the finish line of my first competitive race, the South Jordan Half Marathon. To me, the medal I received that day represents not only the completion of a 13.1 mile course, but my personal victory over a lifelong struggle with weight and self-esteem. Completion of that race eased my doubts about my adequacy to accomplish tasks, silenced my critics, and put my past’s demons to rest.
The feeling of total victory I felt that day has given me not only the confidence necessary to excel in life, but a strong level of empathy for anyone struggling with crippling problems. Because of where I’ve been, and who I have become, I’ve cultivated a desire to help those who may still be in a rut. Law school and a subsequent legal career will allow me to work directly with many people who feel overwhelmed and hopeless about situations they may be facing. This empathy, coupled with my other credentials and skills would make me a solid addition to the incoming class.
It kind of tapers off there at the end... I'm pretty sure I need more of a conclusion.. any ideas? I'm also looking for any kind of feedback be it grammar or content related. Thanks.