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One of the most exciting feelings I have experienced,was that of winning a race as a child. During my early school days, we had the opportunity to participate in several activites during recess. Our group of children were solicited to participate in a race. I quickly volunteer to accept the challenge, knowing that I must practice each day. My father would often invite me to walk with him to the neighborhood store, since this offered me an opportunity to leave my 8th floor home, I gladly welcome this as an opportunity to practice strengthening my little legs. He was a tall, long legged man, and his pace was fast and quick. At times, my little legs could not keep up, but I persisted to stay alongside of him. During these walks I enjoyed the adult conversation and laughter. Shortly thereafter I noticed our walks became brisk and not as strenuous for me. The day of the race arrived, our group gathered with excitment as we lined up for our principal, knowing he would be monitoring our performance. As he walk along the yellow race lines, pass our group, he motioned for my teacher to ask me to come forward. I knew that I had to do the best I could. He mentioned to me "young lady, I want you to run and jump as high as you can" I nodded "yes sir". As I prepared to move forward with all the girlish gusto I ran and jumped as hard as I could, when I reached the mark,I landed flat on my feet. The principal shouted - Good Girl! I say Thanks Daddy--for those evening walks.
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