annet-50331903 @annet-50331903
It was 4pm when I finally arrived home from training. The sun had been shining all day and my feet were sore after running on the track for hours. As I walked in the door, I gave my mother a kiss on the cheek before heading to the kitchen to grab a snack. She was busy preparing dinner so I took some chips out of the bag and sat down at the table to eat them.
The first hurdle race I ever participated in was when I was 15 years old. My coach had been training me since I was 12, and I remember how excited he was for me to finally take part in a real competition. As I lined up at the starting line, my heart was pounding in my chest. The crowd was cheering and the other athletes were all wearing their best uniform - mine looked pretty basic compared to theirs!
When I got home after that first race, my mother asked me how it went. I told her about how nervous I had been but how I'd given it my all and performed well considering it was my first time competing in a real event. She smiled at me and said she was proud of me for even trying - which made me feel pretty good about myself, to be honest.
