Wednesday, November 13, 2019
Kevin Rayburs Run :: essays research papers
1968, Six o'clock in the morningThe Olympic village was quiet in its lazy sleep, but Kevin Reybur was already awake, and ready to run. The easy 8-mile morning workout was only a part of the blonde-haired phenomenon's training schedule. Later in the afternoon he would suffer through fifteen miles of pace-work and intervals on the golf cart paths and quiet streets of the peaceful suburbs of Mexico City.Despite his short legs and strong upper body -unusual characteristics for a distance runner- Kevin was really a man born to run. His specialty was the 5000 meter event. By breaking the Southeastern High School Conference record in his junior year, and setting the national record in his senior year, Kevin had the attention of all of the college scouts and was offered full scholarships to many Universities. He chose to attend D.W. Daniel University because they had the best coach in the country; the one man capable of guiding him to the top. Kevin was confident that he would not only beat the best, but also be the best.With no idea of what he would major in, his reality was different from most of his university fellows: he wanted to win, and that is the only thought that consumed his mind and soul. Kevin's performance in collegiate meets got him an invitation to the Olympic Trials, and by winning the trials he earned a spot on the 1968 Olympic team. Just to represent the country in the summer Olympics in Mexico City was never his ambition. He had to win."It's six in the frickin' morning Kevin! Where the hell are you going in this rain?" his roommate Bert cursed." The gold is waiting for me and I can't lose time listening to your complaints, just because it's wet outside. I have to work hard to make up for my lack of pure talent." Kevin replied."Hurghf..." Bert sighed and pushed his head deep into his pillow, as he would do every morning for the two weeks of the 17th modern Olympic Games.Kevin went out in to the bitter morning rain, which quickly soaked through his lucky golden running cap, and covered his head, which was full of thoughts only of the rhythmic pattering of his feet and of the long empty streets ahead. He did not even notice that his toes were wet and blistered. His shoes, well worn from many punishing miles, no longer had the cushioning or fit that he needed.
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