It was a hot summer day in Virginia.

The stadium was filled with 25,000 fans.

I was eleven. After 2 hours of waiting in the hot July sun

my name was called to do the long jump.  My whole

body was shaking because I could feel everyone’s

eyes on me. I was eleven. I bolted down the runway

and snapped off the board as far and high as I possibly

could. I was Eleven. “Fifteen Feet,” the official called out.

A huge weight was lifted off my shoulders because

I knew that jump was far enough to qualify me for the finals.

After a few hours the meet officials announced the top 8 finalists.

My name was called. I was currently in seventh. I was given

three more attempts.  So I did my three jumps but

unfortunately none of them were as far as 15 feet.  I was eleven.

However it was still far enough to

earn a national ranking and a big, shiny medal

to go around my neck. I stood there on the podium

smiling for the flashing cameras, I was eleven.


CC BY-SA 4.0 I.S.O. Stafford by Vail is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 4.0 International License.

  1. Brenda 2 years ago

    I like how repeated that you were eleven. The idea that you a national ranking and was only eleven years old was great. i don’t think i would be able to do all that. You must have put in a lot of work to get there. ! I love the poem.

  2. Anna 2 years ago

    I really like this poem. I liked the repeated “I was eleven” because it added more depth. Nice work.

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