Which is why the essay was a huge point of contention. Sure, the grades and extracurriculars were all there, but this was an opportunity to show that I was more than decent grades and a theatre resume. As it's become evident, I have a very distinct writing style: very candid, occasional flowery language, and generally too-long sentences.
My parents are amazing in supporting me. But we just have different writing styles. After months of arguments and 8-hour saturdays of writing and re-writing, this is the essay we came up with:
I never saw myself as a runner. I had always been the kid who walked the timed mile in gym class with my friends, and ended up coming in last. So, not surprisingly, I was reluctant when my mom told me to sign up for a cross country class at summer camp. After much discussion, I agreed to sign up, and prayed that the class would be full. However, when I got to camp, there it was on my schedule. The very first class was a timed four mile race. With the sun blazing and the air heavy, I huffed and puffed on the dusty roads around camp for forty-four painful minutes. It was the hardest thing I had ever done. At one point, one of the counselors said to me, “Hey, we can turn back now if you want.” When I heard that, something changed in me. I realized that I couldn’t back out. I had started this thing and I would finish it properly. When I hit the entrance of the camp, I sprinted with all I had to the finish line. My classmates had already left. I was tired and dehydrated, but I felt really refreshed and my head was clear. Although I was exhausted, I felt ready to face anything.
I continued to run occasionally when I returned home from camp. It was my sophomore year, I had a rigorous schedule and started to fall behind in chemistry. I decided that the best way to catch up was to review my homework with my chemistry teacher, Mr. Spooner, during his office hours. Unfortunately, Mr. Spooner’s office hours were only at 6:30am. It was awkward at first; Mr. Spooner was not accustomed to students coming in that early, or that regularly, for help. In fact, most mornings, it was just Mr. Spooner and me. I tried to diffuse the tension by being especially polite and enthusiastic. Gradually, Mr. Spooner and I began to enjoy each other’s company, and eventually he lost his morning grumpiness. On my progress report, Mr. Spooner called me the “comeback kid.” I was so excited by what I had accomplished, that evening I ran farther than I had ever run before.
At this point, I was running almost every day. My determination was tested again when, as a junior, I was selected to attend my first ever Model United Nations (MUN) conference. In MUN, each delegate is assigned a country to represent and a room in which to compete. Each room is assigned a topic to debate. Over the course of the conference, the delegates work together to draft and propose resolutions which are then debated on the floor. I was assigned to represent the country of Guatemala. My room, the Disarmament and International Security Room, had 90 delegates and was the largest room at the conference. It was very intimidating as it seemed that the other delegates were so much more experienced. Still, I hit the ground running from the first night of committee. I was not going to let the other delegates, even if they were representing larger, more influential countries, overpower me. I joined an alliance with the United States and worked hard to be an effective advocate. Not only did our resolution get passed, but I was named as one of the top 5 delegates in my room. As my name was called at the awards ceremony, and I as walked up to accept my award, I felt energized and so thrilled by what I had accomplished.
Now, I run everyday, regardless of the weather. By challenging myself to new speeds and distances, I have found the determination to meet other challenges. From a heavy class load, to a packed schedule, running helps me relax, focus and prioritize. I am very proud that running has helped shape the person I have become.
If I ever want to feel like I’m capable of greatness, I run in the rain. The raindrops that fall from the clouds and drip from the hunter green oak leaves run down my face and my arms, meeting my adrenalized endorphins with a cool calm that makes me more clear minded and empowered. It propels me to farther and faster. Even if I don’t reach a “personal best” each time, and I run up the stairs of my porch panting and sweating, I still grin, because running has changed my life.
After my freshman year I was headed to Camp Lochearn to be a counselor in training after four great summers as a camper. Life as I knew it was happy, busy and filled with purpose. Right before I arrived at Lochearn, my life quickly came to an unfathomable pause: my cousin Ellie was killed by a falling tree while on a camping trip. Everything felt off kilter; I had just seen Ellie two weeks ago, how could she be gone? Because of the funeral, I arrived at Camp Lochearn a couple days late, feeling lost, empty, and very confused. Being a “Lochearn Lassie” was the last thing on my mind.
At the last minute, my mom convinced me to sign up for the Cross Country class as one of my activities. I didn’t really think that I would make it through all four weeks, so I agreed, with the intent to drop out of the activity after the first or second class. Because I arrived late, activities had already had their introductory classes. In fact, my very first session of cross country was the tryout for the race around the lake, a ten kilometer run. I huffed and puffed for forty-four painful minutes, coming in last in my class. I didn’t think that I was going to make it through a whole month of that, but at that week’s campfire, I was recognized for my courage to try to qualify on my very first day of cross country. It was the first time I had really smiled since Ellie died. If all it took to be good at cross country was to try and cheer on everyone else while you lagged behind, I thought, then this might not be too bad.
I decided to stay in cross country. It didn’t matter that I wasn’t fast; I came to realize that the feeling I got after running and taking a hot shower was really soothing. Running left me a little happier, as I tried to come to grips with Ellie’s death.
I requested to give a small speech at our Sunday Night Campfire. The theme that night was friendship; I got up and told the entire camp, all two hundred and fifty people, about my friendship with Ellie, and about how the friendships I had at Lochearn were vital for making me get through this difficult time. I didn’t mention the friendship I had newly formed with running; but running had become my closest friend.
I continued to run when I got home from camp and now I run every day no matter what the weather is like. Running gives me resilience, an open mind, and a sense of optimism. The pavement on my street has been where I’ve thought about Ellie, but it has also been where I’ve been able to think about anything that’s come up in my life. That forty-five minutes of my day is where I ease my stress, stop my negativity, and boost my confidence. Ellie’s memory will never die in my mind, because it is always there for me on the pavement of the street.
Honestly (and this is the end of the year so everything can be out in the open without me feeling bad about it) I do like this essay better. I wonder whether or not Georgetown would have liked this better. Regardless, I got in to my top choice, and I know that there really isn't anything to be upset about, but I do think wondering is justified. I wish I could submit my app again and use this essay, just to see. Is passion better than trying to cram in all of the accomplishments that didm;t make it on your resume? I don't really know. But its worth wondering.
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