Descriptive: Perseverance, A Personal Goal, By Willie Willson

Posted by Willie Willson in English 2 - Block on

​All of my life I have been a hard worker.  I have always striven to do the best that I can, in any situation.  This quality has made me try many new things that I never have before, and has also given me the ability to enter these new situations with confidence that I’m going to succeed in them. I have also been given a better idea of what I can do, as a person, and that when push comes to shove, I will put forth my best effort.
        This summer I did an online course of geometry.  I was away for most of the summer, so when the time came to finally start this course, I was substantially behind.  I began and worked slowly for a few weeks, so I wasn’t making any real progress.  Finally, the two week mark came for when we had to hand in this course, And I got a little wake up call.  While I was sitting, watching hulu and looking at facebook, I saw the little red mail sign light up.  It said that I was supposed to be done seventy five percent of the course, and I was barely done a quarter of it.  It was time to go to work.  In the next week I worked 9-10 hours a day, I would wake up early, struggle all day to complete the amount I had set for myself, and managed to finish before the deadline.  For those two weeks, all I did was play hockey, work, and sleep.
        This experience of having to truly work my tail off gave me an interesting insight into how I can really succeed when I put my mind too it.  It shows that even when against the odds, I can come back and finish what I started, and that when I’m finished, I like to be acknowledged for what I have done.
        Another time came when I had just finished my hockey season.  We were all gathered around the firehouse, gazing at it apprehensively.  We knew what lay inside it, many pointless awkward conversations with parents, along with food, and finally the award ceremony.
        As I walked up to the building, I saw a group of my friends playing outside.  I went over to join them, and the violence that ensued thereafter caused us all to leave with smiles on our faces.  At that point we went inside.  Inside the firehouse, all of the parents sat, probably talking about something boring, and there were also drinks.  I got a drink and went over to my buddy’s table.
        At this table there was me, my friend John who is six foot three, and my friend Liam, who is about four foot ten.  Liam has a mouth as quick and snappy as a crocodiles, so I knew we where in for a good laugh.  Together we looked up at the stage area and started to watch the awards being given.  All of the younger teams went up first, and as I stood there, watching, an immense sense of pride grew in me.  These young children where doing a fantastic thing for hockey, and themselves, just by playing.
        When these children where done, It was time for the big whole club wide award.  The award was given to one person who really held up the clubs core values, as well as led his team during the season.  As I was sitting there, paying close attention to what the person giving the award was saying, I realized that the compliments sounded familiar.  Liam was staring at me and after every compliment he would say, “That’s you.”  Finally the man said my name, and I’m sure my face would have looked priceless.
        When I was walking up to accept the award I got a feeling of gratitude.  All of my hard work was about to be officially recognized.  They handed me a plaque, and gave me a signed Chris Pronger jersey.
        This was one of the best moments of my life.  I had been working my hardest at every game and every practice and it finally paid off.  I felt like I was flying.  This shows that I truly do work my hardest, and that people recognize me for it.        

One of the things that I’m best at is doing something through tiredness. One time when I got home from hockey practice, with the familiar feeling of being tired to the bone, knowing that everything will soon become a challenge.  

I opened the door, fighting my primal instincts in order to keep my eyes open.  I stumble as I try to fit the cumbersome bag through the rather petite doorway.  Not for the first time, I throw my bag down, with full knowledge that I will have to move it later, as I all ways do when I get home from hockey.  My throat is dry, as dry as someones in the Sahara desert in a drought, in the summer, if they were excercising.  I try to coax the motor skills back into my limbs, but they simply refuse to return.  I realize that getting to the kitchen will be harder than I thought.

I slip through the doorway, and see my brother, Matthew, in his usual position.  He is lying on the couch, no doubt because he is “hurt”.  I know that I will have to relinquish my hold on the TV remote for yet another night.  My mind shifts back towards the need for water, and I continue my long trek towards the kitchen.

I encounter my first obstacle.  Blocking my path is an abomination of steel and wood, with some type of mesh supports.  It blocks my path, but I’m in a stubborn mood.  I squeeze in my stomach, and try to slip by this strange contraption.  My stomach compresses, and I’m able to slip by the side of the machine.  As soon as I am free of the deadly embrace of the wall and the contraption, I turn towards it and see the paddle sitting on it.  This does not strike me as odd, because the ping pong paddle is sitting on the table that it was named for.

I encounter the second obstacle, a gruesome man made structure used for eating which has been place precariously close the entrance to the door.  I don’t feel like having another encounter with the wall, so instead of sneaking by it, I decide to do the obviously smart thing.  I give myself some room, and try to make the jump onto the table.  My motor skills where still returning, so I slipped and barely recovered in time.  I stop inches from the wall, and look back at the dining room table in triumph.

I encounter the last obstacle, the strange box which is weaved out of some type of straw.  I push it out of the way, and my shirt gets caught.  It tears, but I am to tired to recognize it at the moment.  I walk over to the fridge and start to drink that clear sweet nectar to soothe my throat.

        As you can see, I’ll always try my best at something, even if it is slightly ridiculous.  But through this ridiculousness I feel great because I know that no one can say anything bad about me, and if they do, I can just say that I did my best.  You can also see how I can push myself.  After hockey practice I am all ways tired, and even small things become challenges.  Overcoming these challenges is part of what makes us all atheletes.
The best feeling ever is the feeling of accomplishment.  As I got that award, as I got water finally, as I finish that geometry course, all of these events involve accomplishment, and the feeling that I have pushed myself.  This feeling is what I strive for, and it is what I feel like is the greatest feeling in the world.  

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