I take my first steps on this familiar, yet foreign place. It is a sight so bitter, so sweet, and I loving every second. My heart races as the gun starter lifts up his hand; my stomach rising into my chest. I don’t dare to move, to look, to feel, as he pulls the trigger. My legs are pounding on the hot, rigid track; my mind becomes completely aware of the world around  me. The aroma of greasy food washes over us like a wave, and the obnoxious parents and coaches are numb to my ears. The grand stands roar with liveliness while girls are fighting for the spot in the front pack. The pain has driven me over edge but I push even more. I see my mother; her lips are moving frantically but I can't hear a sound. As I round the corner, and see the score board with a timer ticking by, I realize its only the beginning.