Breath of Resilience

I stand at the start line, my heart pounding with anticipation, my feet jiggling with excitement. The cool morning air fills my lungs as I glance around, taking in the scene around me. The crowd, buzzing with energy around me, cheering for their loved ones. Runners, of all age and size, each determined to complete these 26 miles. They all seem so strong, so capable, and for a moment, doubt creeps into my mind. How could a teenage girl with asthma possibly complete this grueling marathon? 26 flipping miles.

My name is Emily, and today, I am overcoming my own fear. For years, I have thought of countless excuses to not join the yearly marathon in my city, due to my asthma. I allowed it to be my barrier, my excuse for not doing athletic sports. But not anymore. Today, I am not just a participant; I’m a fighter. I resolved to finish this race no matter what.

I take a deep breath, pushing aside the fear that threatens to destroy my confidence. A bead of sweat already glistens on my forehead, a mark of my nervousness. As the announcer begins the countdown, I ready myself, poised to begin my challenge.

Three!

Two!

One!

Run!

As the announcer counts down and the starting horn blares, I sprint forward with the rest of the runners. The thundering of feet quickly overwhelmed my ears. As I worked to settle in a steady pace, the rhythm of my steps echoed in my ears and calmed me, discretely reminding me of the journey ahead.

As the hours go on, and the miles pass in my head, around midday I began to feel the familiar tightness in my chest, from Mr. Asthma. The heat of the day reaches its maximum, and I've got sweat dripping all over the ground. As my chest constricts, panic immediately begins to overwhelm me. I couldn’t have an attack in the middle of a marathon - this was exactly what I was afraid of. I glanced around, seeing contestants far behind and ahead of me. I focused on steadying my breath, and reach for my inhaler in my pocket. I take a quick puff, the cool medication momentarily soothing the burning in my lungs. As I resumed at a light jog, I began to feel better, and my confidence rose once again. I could do this!

However, with each passing mile, the weight of asthma grew heavier. I refused to let it stop me. I drew strength from the knowledge that my family was waiting for me at the finish line. I remembered their words of encouragement that morning. I knew they would be proud of me no matter what I achieved, as long as I tried my best.

This was not my maximum potential, I told myself. Come on, Em! You can do better.

But as I approach the last leg of the marathon, my body betrays me of its own accord. The steadily growing pain in my chest is almost too much to bear. My legs feel like lead, and every breath begins to feel like a struggle. I tried to push through the pain, as I could see the finish line looming in the distance, like a beacon of hope. I can't give up now, not when I've come this far. I will not let myself down.

Suddenly, a sharp pain shoots through my chest, and I stumble, my legs threatening to give out beneath me. I collapse to the ground, tears stinging my eyes as I gasp for air. My knees sting, and my palms hit the concrete. Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes as I gritted my teeth. Embarrassment and panic flooded through me, and a doubt crept into my head. What if I couldn’t finish?

Almost like a beaker of hope, a kind girl appeared by my side, almost as a hallucination. Was she real?

She gently nudged my shoulder.

"Hey, I know it's tough right now, but you can do this," she said, her eyes brimming with conviction. "You're stronger than you believe. You have the power within you to keep going. You just need the right motivation." As her words reached me, I felt a new determination in my heart. I willed myself to stand back up, my muscles screaming in protest. As the girl faded away into the recesses of my mind, I began to slowly walk off the pain. The pain was almost unbearable, but I refused to let it get the best of me. Taking another quick puff of my inhaler, I gave myself a pep talk as well. You can do this, you will do this, Emily. You’ve come so far.

After what seemed like an eternity, the finish line finally seemed to be getting nearer. I saw glimpses of families, waiting and cheering for their loved ones. I found my family along the sidelines, holding a bright red poster with my name in white letters. Their faces were beaming with pride, and I know that I can't let them down.

I pushed myself forward, and with one final burst of energy, I crossed the finish line. My bent body collapsed into the waiting arms of my mom, and tears of exhaustion and triumph streamed down my face as she hugged me tightly.

“You did it, Emily, dear,” my mom whispered in my ear. “We’re so proud of you.” My dad brought me a bottle of water, which I rapidly gulped down.

In that moment, with my victory in my head, surrounded by the love and support of my family, I realized my strength.

Although asthma was always going to be a part of me, I wasn’t going to let it hold me back, or define me. I could do anything I put my mind to. This race wasn't the end, it was the beginning of a door of opportunities I had opened for myself by facing my biggest difficulty.

With a smile on my lips and a fire in my heart, I walked out of the race, with the newfound strength and confidence in my own body.