Colors Of The Runners example essay topic

The trees lined the crowded path with hundreds of people carrying clipboards and shouting various numbers and words of encouragement. Then one by one at first you see sweat soaked teenagers at the point of exhaustion run by as the people cheer. Their hair is matted to their face by their perspiration, you can barely smell the scent of salt from them. Their faces are contorted in agonizing pain as they stumble by you. As each one passes you hear the screaming from spectators and coaches getting louder. This is a cross country race, the athletes here hold nothing back.

They push themselves over a three mile course pushing through the crowds of other runners striving to be the best of the field. The sky is gray and overcast, there will be no sunshine today. But the runners don't mind, they enjoy this kind of weather. The grass where they are running is neatly mowed with a white dotted line to show them where they need to go. The terrain changes from grass to gravel to small chips of wood that scatter the path.

There are trees that line both sides of the path, large and green. They block any sunlight that could possibly get through on such a dark day. You start to see colors: green, purple, blue, and yellow to name a few. These are the colors of the runners soaked jerseys.

They trot by you at what seems to be a slow jog, but when you try to keep up you realize that it is not. Occasionally you will hear a runner yell, "Catch" as he throws a watch to a spectator who clumsily catch's it. On each of the runners their muscles bulge out like a large package wrapped in too tight of a package. In a steady rhythm their legs move in constant motion, pushing off and almost immediately hitting the ground again to provide them with momentum.

In tune with their legs, arms pump opposite from the legs. Sometimes they are limp and relaxed and sometimes they are rigid and strained from pain. After a grueling three miles, they see it, the finish line. They thirst for it like a worker does water on a hot summer day. A new energy is found within, each runner lifts his chin slightly to see the common goal more clearly.

The rhythmic motion of their arms and legs are broken as they begin to move faster. Their eyes are watery from the salt in their eyes, their body is soaked with sweat, mud, and blood. They look like a child's toy that was left outside overnight. Finally they reach the much coveted tape that signifies the end. As they stumble through the finish chute, the only ticker tape parade these athletes may get is a few of them blowing 'snot-rockets' or one or two of them vomiting.