Personal Narrative #8

I am assigned to write a scene for my personal narrative. I am thinking a lot about the central message. It has to do with the adaption of my favorite sport to running. I hated running.

I was lost in thought as I sank deep into the soft couch. The lights were low and I had tears brimming on my eyelids. I fought them because I was a man. As I wallowed in my misery, my father sat next to me. He seemed to not sink as deep as me on the couch.
"What are you thinking about?" He asked, knowing the answer before I said anything.
I chose not to respond.
"Things don't always work out like you want. You should start think of options. You aren't just confined to one thing." He said.
I let my Father have a conversation with himself, I wasn't ready to come out of my self imposed prison yet.
"You've always been a good runner," he chirped, "why don't you give that a try?"
I had to chuckle a bit. It was true that I had always been a talented runner. I always pushed myself more then anyone else. But then again, no one in middle school really puts forth an effort in P.E. As repulsive as the idea sounded, I was intrigued. I took a deep breath before responding.
"I'll give it a shot," I wispered. The deep breath I took seemed to make me rise from the depths of our couch.
Before I knew it, I was shopping with my Father for a pair of Asics running shoes and really short shorts.