Denne stilen skrev jeg i begynnelsen av 9. klasse og har senere forbedret den. Oppgaven var å skrive en tekst om å stå distansen og/eller gripe sjanser. Selv er jeg veldig fornøyd med den. Tror den kan være noe av det beste jeg har skrevet. Hva synes du?
Running marathons had been my hobby for as long as I could remember. It was my mum who introduced me to this hobby. In 2003 Paula Radcliffe came to London to run the London Marathon on home ground, and my mother took me to see the marathon. I was 13 years old, and I loved it. Paula Radcliffe set a world record, and she then became my number one idol.
My mother had supported me from the very beginning. Although she was my mother, she was one of my best friends. Always ready to help and support me. I can never thank her enough for what she did for me. She sacrificed a lot in her life to be there for me. Want to hear the reason? Well, this is my story.
I had just turned 18, and all I cared about was to go all out on running marathons. To run marathons you have to work on your condition and stay fit. I wanted to succeed. My target and my dream was to be as good as Paula Radcliffe. Her best time was 2.15.25.
There were races twice a month. Usually I got a good position in races. I loved to run. During races I didn´t have to think. I just had to focus on keeping my feet in motion. Nothing else existed, just me and my two feet. Not to forget my mother, a cheering spectator along the road, yelling "Come on, Bailey, you can do it!" I knew I could. I never doubted. Not until that day. The day I realised I wasn´t getting any better.
I day by day gradually started to breathe more heavily, and my heart started to beat more intensely. But that didn´t stop me from training. I gladly went out for a jog. As the days went by I got sleepier than ever. Not to mention that I was frequently dizzy.
"Bailey, are you ready for a run with me?" my mother asked me a Tuesday afternoon. She was a real marathon enthusiast herself. I told her I felt sick. She laid her hand on my forehead.
"You´re having a fever, darling, you should go to bed", she said softly. I went to bed, and immediately fell asleep. I had a sweet dream about me running the race of my life. The real race of my life was in five months. I was going to compete with the pros. That could be my breakthrough. I couldn´t wait!
When I woke up, my bed was soaked. During the night I had sweated immensely. Revolting!
After a shower, I went out for a jog with my mother. She was fairly good as well. Midway in our jog my legs started to hurt and all my joints were aching. My mother was confused and disturbed. Her daughter was well trained. What was wrong?
The condition I was in frightened my mother to take me straight to the hospital. I had to take a blood test, and then we were allowed to go home. Later we had a phone-call from the doctor. He wanted to see us as soon as possible, and we went to see him immediately.
The drive to the hospital seemed to last forever, and when we finally reached our goal, I was extremely tired. On the waiting room minutes felt like hours. It was the lull before the storm. All I could hear was the clock ticking. A quarter to eight and the doctor came out, looking unhappy and kind of scared. Something was definitely wrong, and I was anxious. So was my mother.
Inside the doctor´s office, she told us the bad news. I was expecting her to say that I had vitamin deficiency or lack of protein, but the truth was way harder. At first I thought I misheard what she said, but when my mother bursted into tears, I knew this was serious. I felt hopeless. Inconsolable. I had got leukaemia. I knew that was a serious condition. Time went by, so slowly. Silence lay over the room. Both my mum and I were struck speechless by the fact. We were just looking at one another and crying.
Thousands of thoughts ran through my mind. Did that mean I could die? My mother didn't know. Neither did the doctors. Suddenly my mum stopped crying, and looked at me.
"You know what, Bailey? We should make the best out of this", she said, and smiled. She was right. And I was going to make this.
"But first you have to go home and pack your bag. You're admitted to stay here, at the hospital", the doctor told me.
The days in hospital rushed off. Days felt like years when I was alone. A day could go extremely slow, but when it was over, I realised I hadn't used enough time to take pleasure in it. Staying at hospital gave me lots of time to reflect and philosophise about life. I wasn’t afraid of dying, but the thought of leaving earth and all the persons I cared about was frightening.
Until now no one could look at me and say "That girl has got leukaemia", but now I started losing my weight.
“You have to enjoy the time you have left”, my mother had told me. And I would. Even though I didn’t know how long it was before my time was over. It could be a month or a year... To enjoy life was for me to be allowed to run. Now that was taken away from me. I was permitted to jog, but I couldn’t run, so that I lost more weight.
I lived my life. Not exactly the way I thought it would be, but I enjoyed it. Nevertheless, the thought of leaving earth in so early life frightened me out of my wits. With an eye to my beloved mother, how could I ever leave her? Having a sentence like this gave me, in a way, time pressure. Pressure to do all the things I wanted to do in life, before it was too late.
The worst part in my life was when I started losing my hair due to the treatment. I felt like everybody could see that I wore a wig.
As time went by I got worse every day. I laid in my bed, feeling exhausted, and I knew my time was running out.
“Mum?” I said weakly, “I’m worn out”.
“Stay strong, darling”, she whispered to me.
“I can’t... do it... anymore”, I said as my head fell down on the white hospital pillow.
“I know”, she said, “I love you, Bailey. You are a strong girl, and you will always be. You’ve been running a race you cannot win. I ran the distance with you, but we couldn’t come any longer. We seized the opportunities we had, after you got leukaemia. You’re tired, I can see that. Sleep tight, honey. I will always love you”.
“Mum?” I said weakly. My voice almost disappeared when I finished: “You have fulfilled my dream. You stood the distance with me. I’m so grateful”.
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