
THE POWER OF DETERMINATION AND SELF CONFIDENCE
For me, it was normal to be lost at the annually held school inter house sports. Four houses full of students who were ready to lead their teams to a medal and win the day.
Not me. I was too little to be a leader and too skinny to be an athlete. I knew this by the time I was ten, because my seniors and other kids reminded me of it every chance they got. So, when our house needed a fourth runner in the 800m race, I knew I was no one’s choice and came to terms with it.
I hid under the tarpaulins of a canopy as the names of the runners were announced. My body tensed as I heard a house master call, “Michael! Where’s Michael! He’s in this race!”
It was Mr Samuel. His name was Samuel, but everyone called him Sam. He spotted me in the canopy and dragged me by the hands.
“Michael, we need a thirteen-year-old who hasn’t been in other events to run the 800m.”
“But we have three guys already.” I murmured.
“We need four. You’re in.” He replied sharply.
He gave me a push toward the starting line. Trying to save myself from the humiliation of taking last place as students from other houses watched, I pleaded with him.
“But I don’t know my way around the track, and I can’t take the bend.”
“You’re in. Just follow George.” Sam smiled.
George was my friend and the fastest runner in our house. And then Sam said, “When you make it past the curve, just throw your head back and run like you never have before.”
At the starting line, I stood next to George and trembled.
“ On your mark…get set…” The whistle blew and Sixteen of us took off, each wanting to carry the day. Kicking up dust on the sandy road that led to the finish line, I was determined not to get lost. I stayed on George’s heels. Perhaps a little bit close, because he growled at me to back off.
I did. Two guys had passed me, but I kept my eyes on George.
It was tiring. The distance was widening between George and I. Halfway into the race, my energy was spent and was about to drop to my knees to quit when I saw not the fifteen other athletes that I thought would be in front of me, but three.
The crowd was roaring, but I could hear Sam over the rest of them, shouting at the top of his voice, “Run!”
I threw my head back and told my legs to go. I never looked back for those last 100m remaining. I felt free. No one was telling me what I was, or what I wasn’t. My legs were running a race against my brain and I was winning.
I didn’t know when I crossed the finish line.Sam caught me and I collapsed- breathless, but happy that I finished. Then I realised Mr Sam wasn’t just holding me up. He was hugging me!
“You flew! You flew, o boy… Ugbo élu! Second! You passed two guys!”
There was a crowd of students around, patting me on the back, giving me high-fives. I had come in second. George had finished first… by a step, they said.
I was awarded a silver medal and a certificate for second position. Even with that and all the high-fives and cheers of the day, the best prize I walked away with was my confidence.
That year, I discovered I could do a lot of things if I put my energy into them.
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