Descriptive Essay: The Catholic League Regionals

I remember the day like no other. Wisps of cold wind struck through the barrier of the slightly overbearing sunlight. The bright green grass and the fresh smell of spring complimented the atmosphere radiated by the large audience residing in the bleachers. It was the perfect equilibrium of temperature and disposition. It was the perfect day for a track meet. However, this was no ordinary track meet, it was the Catholic League regionals. Now it may not seem like a grand event from first glance, but this was the pinnacle of enduring all those rigorous training days for small private-school track teams in the area. On the surface, my persona beamed with intimidation, but deep inside I felt an overwhelming large amount of confidence that morning.
Situated amongst the bustling streets of Madison Heights, Bishop Foley High School is nothing short of a grand old school compared to the other Catholic institutions in the region. As I continue to observe my surroundings, I could not help but take a moment of appreciation for how picturesque this area really is from the precisely cut and glowing grass to the vast gleaming bleachers occupied with a variety of people and colors. This location appears to be the ideal setting for me to conquer my competitors. Joined by my fellow teammates, all nine of us perform our warm-ups in perfect unison. After the exercises, we gather at our signature position beneath the grand stands to begin the first event. At the start of the opening race, I am reverted back into reality as the POP of the starting pistol reverberates inside my head. There is something about the sound that seems to suck the confidence from even the boldest of individuals. As each POP progresses, my self-assurance is ever so slowly sucked dry until I no longer perceive the sound, for it is drowned out by the increasing resonance of my beating heart. All of the sudden, through the hustle and bustle of the crowd, I hear the announcer, with a declaration as clear as