In the midst of filling out college applications and scholarships (and not having ran all last week because there was an incredible pain in my foot, and not having run for the last three days because of a combination of a blizzard and wind chill temperatures, which did get me three snow days), I have realized something important. The ability to make up information to make yourself look good is underrated.
Technically, I guess it's not making up stuff, it's just writing the story in a way that makes you look better than you should. I'm not really that kind of person though, kind of like how I don't like making excuses. Because the colleges don't really want to know you, they want to know how good you think you are. And besides that, the one thing they truly care about is leadership. Which I am getting tired of real fast.
I'm sure leadership is a great quality to have, but it's not the top quality and plus someone is going to be needed to follow all these leaders. And maybe the real reason that I now detest leadership, is that I'm not really a leader. I don't do clubs or councils, they are too much like team sports, and I'd rather be doing something else. I don't organize community service activities, although I do volunteer. I'm involved in two sports that do not truly have team captains, although I can claim being a cross country captain because I participated in captain's games at our pep assembly. Licking peanut butter off of fiberglass while wearing a pirate mask should count for something afterall. I'm the oldest child in my family, which can also give me a little bit of leadership. But I don't have official leadership titles or duties. As my coach once told me, I lead by example and not by talking.
I'm sure this probably makes me sound like a loser who doesn't deserve a scholarship, but I'm really a good student. I have a 4.2something GPA, have a great ACT score, and have numerous academic awards. I am ranked 12th in my class of like 400 kids. But the answers to these scholarship applications evades me. Even when I try to write about something I actually enjoy, like running, I just don't know what to say. These people aren't going to understand it. And it won't stand out from all the others. Even if I use running as my example in my "challenging situation", it's not going to be interesting to someone not a runner. They won't really get it.
Although the leadership questions bother me, I could see the merit of asking them (except I don't think it is worth the multiple essays I have had to write on the subject). A question that really bothers me, is when they ask "do you want us to know anything else about you" or "what should we know about you". Do they really want to know anything about me? Do they really care? Because this is what I would tell them:
I love running. I dislike it very much sometimes, but it plays a huge role in who I am. The aspect of hard work, quiet determination, and perseverence are all parts of running, and therefore they are a part of me. I also enjoy the sport of professional cycling. Those aspects I have previously described can also be found in this sport. And plus, there is just something that draws me to the sport. Which is why I follow it even though I have few people to discuss it with.
I am often described as a quiet person, which I do not enjoy, because really, I'd talk more if everyone would just shut up. I also tend to take a cynical view sometimes, when not talking about what I really love. I'm not looking forward to college because I am going to have to leave a lot of what I consider me behind. I won't have any practices to go to, or teammates to cheer on. I won't get to see my friends everyday, I'll have to live somewhere else, I'll be forced to make my own decisions, I'm not going to know the teachers, and I don't even get a locker. I kind of like what I have now and am not exactly thrilled about having to change.
I am going to major in engineering because of the process of elimination of all the careers I do not like. My favorite school subject is history but there is no real career in that besides teaching. I really only like male teachers, because they treat you like adults and not little kids, and plus most kids hate history so it would not be enjoyable teaching them. One of my friends (whom I have many sarcastic, cynical conversations with) once asked me what I wanted to do when I grew up. He told me he wanted to be a migrant farm worker. I told him I wanted to be a podium girl in the Tour de France. Which is really what I'd rather do,
And now I would like to thank the scholarship commmitte for reading my essay about me. I am not the prime example of the potential of greatness of our youth. That's because I am a real person who has unique hobbies and decision making issues. And that is what you should know about me. Besides the fact that I was tired of filling out scholarships midway through my first one.
Thursday, December 10, 2009
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
THAT DAY
One year ago, everything changed. My dad had a heart attack. My dad, who has come to almost all my sporting events and cheers me on, who takes me to see all the politicians that come talk, who introduced me to the Tour de France, who loves to play Scrabble. Who was the subject of my greatest thanks that year, because my dad was okay.
It was to be the first day back from Thanksgiving break. Early that morning, the phone rang. It kept ringing and ringing. My driver's ed teacher told us about two weeks later that early morning phone calls are hardly ever good, because good news can always wait until morning. He was partly true.
I can still remember the phone ringing over and over again. The answering machine clicking on, and my mom's voice telling one of us girls to pick up the phone. I answered it half asleep. And then my mom told me that she had taken my dad to the hospital. He was having chest pains but he didn't want to wake me up because he thought it wasn't that big of deal. But my mom told me the sweetest words I could hear after she told me where they were at. He was okay. He was going to be okay.
I stayed up after that, waiting for the phone to ring again, and for my sisters to wake up. I remember the look on my youngest sister's face when I told her that dad was in the hospital, that he was okay, but we didn't have to go to school. That was one of that hardest things I have had to do. To tell her words that I didn't even want to hear. But he was okay. And that's what mattered.
We were allowed to visit him later on, and I don't think I have ever been so glad to see my dad. He looked weak and sick and okay. He had watched what he ate, he exercised- went on bike rides and went running with me, he did what his doctor had told him. He did so much right, and what scares me is what went wrong. There are so many fat, unhealthy, junk food eating guys out there and they weren't the ones who this happened to. They are the ones who it is supposed to happen to. But my dad has done even more since that day. He goes walking all the time and lifts weights. And he's still there at all my meets.
On that day, a year ago, I went for about a six mile run. I had been running at most like four until that day. But then I needed to run. I needed to get out of the house, and run long and deal with everything. My grandparents had arrived so I didn't need to act like the grownup anymore. I could act like the kid that I felt like through the whole experience. So I ran. I ran because it was my therapy, I could get out my adrenaline, my fear. I could be myself and didn't have to pretend when I ran. Running that day, that week, became something I wanted to do, something I had to do.
I'm not sure how my mom dealt with everything, because I was so terrified myself, and I knew from the beginning that he was okay. The way she acted has made her an even stronger woman in my opinion. One of the really hard things that week was actually going to school and sitting in class and listening to everyone's conversations. I couldn't make it matter to me, what really mattered was my family. And a year from that scary day, the same thing matters. My family matters.
It was to be the first day back from Thanksgiving break. Early that morning, the phone rang. It kept ringing and ringing. My driver's ed teacher told us about two weeks later that early morning phone calls are hardly ever good, because good news can always wait until morning. He was partly true.
I can still remember the phone ringing over and over again. The answering machine clicking on, and my mom's voice telling one of us girls to pick up the phone. I answered it half asleep. And then my mom told me that she had taken my dad to the hospital. He was having chest pains but he didn't want to wake me up because he thought it wasn't that big of deal. But my mom told me the sweetest words I could hear after she told me where they were at. He was okay. He was going to be okay.
I stayed up after that, waiting for the phone to ring again, and for my sisters to wake up. I remember the look on my youngest sister's face when I told her that dad was in the hospital, that he was okay, but we didn't have to go to school. That was one of that hardest things I have had to do. To tell her words that I didn't even want to hear. But he was okay. And that's what mattered.
We were allowed to visit him later on, and I don't think I have ever been so glad to see my dad. He looked weak and sick and okay. He had watched what he ate, he exercised- went on bike rides and went running with me, he did what his doctor had told him. He did so much right, and what scares me is what went wrong. There are so many fat, unhealthy, junk food eating guys out there and they weren't the ones who this happened to. They are the ones who it is supposed to happen to. But my dad has done even more since that day. He goes walking all the time and lifts weights. And he's still there at all my meets.
On that day, a year ago, I went for about a six mile run. I had been running at most like four until that day. But then I needed to run. I needed to get out of the house, and run long and deal with everything. My grandparents had arrived so I didn't need to act like the grownup anymore. I could act like the kid that I felt like through the whole experience. So I ran. I ran because it was my therapy, I could get out my adrenaline, my fear. I could be myself and didn't have to pretend when I ran. Running that day, that week, became something I wanted to do, something I had to do.
I'm not sure how my mom dealt with everything, because I was so terrified myself, and I knew from the beginning that he was okay. The way she acted has made her an even stronger woman in my opinion. One of the really hard things that week was actually going to school and sitting in class and listening to everyone's conversations. I couldn't make it matter to me, what really mattered was my family. And a year from that scary day, the same thing matters. My family matters.
Thursday, October 22, 2009
XC RACE REPORT: MY LAST GOODBYE
"Everything you do is your legacy." ~Aaron Douglas Trimble
Every story has a beginning and an end. Mine began on a hot August day. I was a sophmore and arrived about 20 minutes late for my first cross country meet. My coach was probably mad, but he always seemed that way and I didn't know him that well. He just told me that I was too late to run fresh/soph and would have to run JV. I finished in 20:07, right ahead of my middle school nemesis. The only thing I really remember, besides that, is seeing this varsity boy from another school be given oxygen through a mask after his race. I remember seeing a bunch of ambulances, fire trucks, and police cars in the parking lot. It was at least 95 degrees out with a heat index of over 100. Four people were taken to the hospital. And that was my welcome to cross country.
My coach wrote that I was "going to have to do a lot of work to catch up" on my pre race sheet that day. But today, today he gave me 3/4s of a hug and told me I did a good job and that he was proud of me. While we were both on the verge of tears. I've come a long way between these two days. It's been a journey filled with tears, smiles, determination, perseverence, and a little bit of courage. But I would love to experience each of those days over again. Even if everything happened the same way.
The top three teams and top ten individuals qualify for state at our district meet. According to the results at the Supermeet (since the divisional results couldn't be accurately compared), I had a chance to be the 10th person. My team also had a chance to be that third team. We would be the dark horse. And this is why I've been nervous for this meet for about two weeks. I didn't want it to come. I didn't want it to end. But it had to come. And it had to end.
I woke up on Tuesday with a sore throat. I told no one. I figured it wouldn't improve by telling anyone and I ignored it. Because I didn't want it to be there. And then people would keep bothering me about it. So I just kept telling myself that I was fine.
On Wednesday, I woke up with a sore throat. It got worse throughout the day. I had to cough every time I tried to talk and it burned a little during practice. My last practice. It was 70 degrees out and the sun was shining. It was a beautiful day. The leaves crunched under our feet as we ran the two miles in a pack. We came up the parking lot in a line. And then we did 6 strides. As I ran that last stride, I tried to remember it. The way the sunlight shone down on us. The way my lungs burned and my calves protested. The way the grass felt under my feet as I ran across the soccer field toward the school. Something that I've done so many times before.
I didn't even bother opening my backpack when I got home. I kept drinking water and just rambled on to my mom because I was so nervous. She did make me spaghetti and sweet potatos for supper (yes, it's kind of a weird combination) and I was in bed before 8:30. It was kind of hard to get to sleep because I was really nervous about the meet and sad about what it could mean. But when I finally got to sleep, I actually had a couple of dreams. They were all different versions of our district cross country meet, held in different places, with different results. One took place in a parking lot around cones. But when I woke up, I felt rested. My legs felt okay and my throat didn't even hurt that much. Of course, it didn't stay that way but it did give me a little extra confidence.
As I put on my cross country shirt before school, I realized that no matter what, this was the last time I would get to wear my xc clothes to school because of a meet. Not that I was able to pay attention to anything at school anyways. I should've been given a pass that said "most important cross country meet of life, please excuse".
I don't have a 6th hour so I went home before our meet began at 4:00. It had been steadily raining the whole day, it was windy, and was only about 45 degrees. When I got home, my mom told me that only four districts out of 20 hadn't been canceled. And lucky us, ours was still on. I got all my stuff together and put on all my clothes. I decided to wear my underarmour like top even though my coach told us not to wear anything if it was above 40 degrees. I figured he could deal with it and got ready to leave. It really kind of hit me then, the whole significance of the meet. That it could be my last cross country meet. I started crying and I just couldn't stop. My mom gave me a little pep talk that made me feel better. I drove to the meet crying though. I heard my favorite song ever, "Far Away" by Nickelback and another song I like "If You Only Knew" by Shinedown. I was still really upset and nervous though. This made me kind of glad that it was raining when I got to the meet because it would hide my tears.
I arrived at 3:00 but I was the first person from my team there. My coach was getting the tarp out of his car so he could put it under our little tent (that had sides). He said something to me about someone who was probably going to be at the meet but I was wondering where my teammates where. We finally started warming up at 3:11. It was bittersweet, because I knew this could be the last time I would warmup for a cross country meet. I knew that this was the last time I would get to run on my home course. Since the course had changed a little, my coach told us to do the second half. I told me teammates this but they said we were going to do the whole thing. I figured that was there problem then and I would do it later on my own. My coach came over after the first mile though and told us to do the second part, like I had said. This made me a little frustrated, because no one had listened to me and then it seemed like my fault. I was a little more worried though about how I felt. We weren't warming up at a high speed but I was breathing heavily. My legs were doing okay but there didn't seem to be anything special. I desperately wanted this though, so I ignored it all. I concentrated instead of remembering this course, this warmup, and how the rain didn't feel that bad anymore. I then finished the warmup by myself because I stopped at the lone Portapotty and kind of wanted to be alone. I ran the part of the course that had changed and then went back to the tent. My coach gave me my number. Number 304. My last cross country number.
We stretched under the tent, on a tarp that was still folded up, as it rained. The course wasn't as muddy as last week but there was standing water at some parts. Apparently, there was also a tsunami warning for the pond. JS arrived with the signs she had made from poster board and paint. I kept the sign that she had given my mom to hold. She is such a great teammate. My family then arrived and we were almost ready to go. I tied on my spikes and did my last stretches. I put my yellow race headband in my hair along with my gold hairband. My LiveSTRONG wristband was placed in my shoe, and I left the tent. My mom wished me luck as I held back tears. And then I walked to the line. For the very last time.
I only did two strides before standing on the line. After our first stride that took us to the middle of the course, our team did the traditional spike circle with our right feet. With our arms around each other in the huddle, we wished each other luck and thought about state. While everyone else shouted their cheers, we whispered cougars. And then our last stride to the line. As I stood on the line (outside box on the right, aren't we always), I looked at the crowd through the rain. I remembered how many times I have stood before on the line, waiting to run a cross country meet. At my first ever meet. At my first varsity race, the first time I wore that green jersey. At my last first meet, when everything seemed possible. At that meet where I finally broke sixteen. This could be my last time. And this could be my last chance. The gun went off, for my last cross country race.
My coach told us that we had to be in the top 15 near the beginning if we wanted a chance of qualifying for state individually. I didn't want to count on my teammates, because I wasn't sure what we could do, so I was aiming for the top 10. And I truly thought I could do it. My first 800 was in about 3:06, done next to my freshmen teammates JR and TM. My throat felt a little clogged up but I was more concerned about my legs. I was ready to go but my legs didn't seem to want to go with me. I just reminded myself that this might be my last race unless I did something so I kept going. Along the muddy course that was raked of leaves in some parts, I could see my parents and my teammates cheering me on. I had told my other friends that I didn't want them to come. If I was going to make it to state, I wanted to experience that feeling with my teammates, my coach, and my family. And if I didn't make it to state, I wanted to say goodbye with my teammates at this last meet.
There wasn't that many people at the meet and bell guy wasn't there so I didn't get the whole Tour de France experience. As I ran up the hill after the bridge, I could feel how tired my legs were beginning to feel. I had decided that I was just going to go as fast as I could for as long as I could. I also did not want to admit how I was really feeling. It was about .75 mile in when JR and TM began to leave me behind. I tried staying with them but my legs just wouldn't go. I can't just blame it on how I felt sick, my legs weren't working either. My coach yelled at me before I turned the corner to catch up to them but I was trying as hard as I could. I ran the first mile in 6:26, which concerned me a little bit. I knew our times would be slower because of the wind, rain, and cold, but this was a little too slow. Plus, I was falling behind and was just getting slower. So I thought about state.
I knew the next part, the second mile, is always the hardest so I tried to concentrate on catching the girls ahead of me. There was a girl from one of the teams we were trying to beat ahead of me and I was trying to get her. Then we went up the hill and all of a sudden, AK was beside me. I knew that she was coming and I didn't freak out. I just tried to stay with her. She went past me a little and my coach yelled five fast steps at me. I tried but my legs just wouldn't go. They were numb and cold and not fast. I knew this could be my last chance to make my mark so it wasn't like I wasn't trying. I was giving all I could.
We crossed the bridge again and ran across the ditch. I tried moving up to AK but at least the gap wasn't getting bigger. As I passed by the middle school football field, I could see the leaders of the race. JR and TM looked like they were close to the top 10, which almost seemed like a good thing, because I knew that the only way I would get to state would be if we made it as a team. My coach thought we could do it though. He also was yelling out only encouraging things at me. I appreciate the fact that he didn't tell me I sucked during my last race. I also appreciate that he didn't give up on me.
When I went up the hill to get next to the road, I remembered that this was my last chance to run the course. I even caught up to the other girl and AK a little, but then they pulled away. I hit the two mile mark in something:45. I didn't even want to know what time I was running. I could feel my throat burning and my legs slowing down. But I kept going.
We crossed back over the ditch and we entered the finishing loop on my home course for the last time. I was trying to sprint and I noticed a girl moving past me. I checked her jersey and sure enough, she was from a team we were trying to beat. This made me feel like I had to at least try to keep up with her but my legs just wouldn't go. I watched the girl catch up to AK and I cheered for her in my mind. As I turned the corner and ran the last straightaway, I reminded myself that this could very well be my last one. And even though I hadn't felt like I had anything left for the last 1.5 miles, I wasn't going to let anyone pass me and I was going to try to pass someone. I gave it my all to get to that line. I (kind of) sprinted to the finish. And even though I didn't catch up to anyone, no one caught me. AK passed the girl from the other team on the line and I came in behind them. One of my other freshman teammates came in right behind me but I pretty much knew she was back there. The girl in front of me gave me a high five in the chute and I congratulated my teammate behind me. All along, I had been worried about how my other teammates would do at this meet. And when we finally got to districts, it had been me that had struggled.
When I got out of the chute, I didn't know what to do. I might have just finished my last cross country meet. I congratulated AK and watched as my mom walked up towards me. She congratulated me and told me that it didn't matter how we did. She was proud of me. My coach walked up and gave me 3/4s of a hug. He told me "thank you" as his voice cracked and he sounded like he was going to cry. I felt the same. He told me he good job, that he was proud of me, and that it was going to be close.
I talked to JS, the assistant coach, and my teammates. I finally got cold enough that I realized I was shivering and went back to the camp to get clothes on. My senior teammate EOB was in the tent putting on her sweats. Her eyes were all red but I didn't know what to say. I sit next to her in AP Economics and we've been teammates for 3 years, but we don't talk that much. I guess I never realized how much she cared about it too. Not because she wasn't as fast as me, but because of her attitude. We both seemed to be on the verge of tears as we put on our clothes. AK walked in and got her stuff but we all just crouched around under the tent. Some of my other teammates came in and we learned that JR and TM had gotten 11th and 12th. I shouldn't have felt this way, but in a way I was kind of glad. I wanted us to all be in it together if I couldn't go by myself. That's selfish I know, but it's how I felt.
Our whole team stood around waiting for the resutls, knowing it was going to be close. And then my coach walked by the other side of the tent. Somebody must have asked him about the results and he told us. We had placed 4th, by 4 points. We weren't going to state. It had been my last meet. My last cross country meet. We all just kind of looked at each other, in some state of shock. Nobody really knew what to say. Then my sophmore teammate MT said we needed a group hug, so all of us stood in the middle of the tent hugging each other. When we stood back, EOB started crying and then I did. I gave her a hug, partly because she needed one, and partly because I needed one. JR gave me a hug after that. We both stood around the tent crying and everyone else didn't know what to do. I guess it was something you wouldn't understand until it is your last meet. You don't really know how hard it is until it happens. EOB said she was going to cooldown and I said I would go with her. I needed to say goodbye. I stepped outside of the tent after wiping away some of my tears and my coach walked by. He patted me on the back and told me I had done a great job. I didn't really say anything because I knew I would just start crying again, but somehow that gesture meant a lot to me. It was like he didn't know what to say and that he knew I was upset, but that it would be okay. And then EOB, AK, and I cooled down together after our cross country meet for the last time. EOB and I were both crying during the cooldown but we did it quietly with tears streaming down our faces. I knew our eyes were all red (although it was raining) but I didn't really care. We ran together, not talking, on the other side of the bridge. Sometimes I thought I would be okay but then it would hit me all over again. We ran the loop and then went back across the bridge. The three of us all kind of stopped running at the same time and walked towards camp. I saw my mom with my dad under their umbrellas and I walked towards them. My mom gave me a hug and then I really started crying. I was sobbing, hugging my mom, under an umbrella in the middle of a rainy district cross country meet. And I could have cared less about what anyone else was doing. When I got myself together, all the girls had left so I got my stuff. My mom and I walked back to my car together. We saw JS and the assistant coach in the parking lot. I didn't talk very much to them because I was still very upset. I got in my car after that and I just started crying really hard. I drove home that way, hearing the "Second Chance" song by Shinedown. I probably shouldn't have been on the roads because it was raining and I had no idea how fast I was going. I just cried all the way home.
I didn't even care that people beat me, or that I had a bad time, or anything. I had done all that I could so I didn't run bad on purpose. I was a senior who had only gone to state as an alternate. Of course, I was trying with everything I could. I wanted to prove to myself, to everyone else, that I had really become a runner. I wanted to run my last meet at 11:00 on Halloween in Fort Dodge. I wanted to say goodbye at a place that truly cares about cross country.
And if I wouldn't have had my bad day, we might've made it. All the freshmen had great meets. AK didn't have the best meet but she did better than me. And I was supposed to be the leader of the team. I should've been up there. And then we wouldn't have been four points behind in fourth place.We should be going to state. Even though we haven't beaten the third place team in years, we would have deserved it. It was only four points. And we almost made it. We almost made it.
Every story has a beginning and an end. Mine began on a hot August day. I was a sophmore and arrived about 20 minutes late for my first cross country meet. My coach was probably mad, but he always seemed that way and I didn't know him that well. He just told me that I was too late to run fresh/soph and would have to run JV. I finished in 20:07, right ahead of my middle school nemesis. The only thing I really remember, besides that, is seeing this varsity boy from another school be given oxygen through a mask after his race. I remember seeing a bunch of ambulances, fire trucks, and police cars in the parking lot. It was at least 95 degrees out with a heat index of over 100. Four people were taken to the hospital. And that was my welcome to cross country.
My coach wrote that I was "going to have to do a lot of work to catch up" on my pre race sheet that day. But today, today he gave me 3/4s of a hug and told me I did a good job and that he was proud of me. While we were both on the verge of tears. I've come a long way between these two days. It's been a journey filled with tears, smiles, determination, perseverence, and a little bit of courage. But I would love to experience each of those days over again. Even if everything happened the same way.
The top three teams and top ten individuals qualify for state at our district meet. According to the results at the Supermeet (since the divisional results couldn't be accurately compared), I had a chance to be the 10th person. My team also had a chance to be that third team. We would be the dark horse. And this is why I've been nervous for this meet for about two weeks. I didn't want it to come. I didn't want it to end. But it had to come. And it had to end.
I woke up on Tuesday with a sore throat. I told no one. I figured it wouldn't improve by telling anyone and I ignored it. Because I didn't want it to be there. And then people would keep bothering me about it. So I just kept telling myself that I was fine.
On Wednesday, I woke up with a sore throat. It got worse throughout the day. I had to cough every time I tried to talk and it burned a little during practice. My last practice. It was 70 degrees out and the sun was shining. It was a beautiful day. The leaves crunched under our feet as we ran the two miles in a pack. We came up the parking lot in a line. And then we did 6 strides. As I ran that last stride, I tried to remember it. The way the sunlight shone down on us. The way my lungs burned and my calves protested. The way the grass felt under my feet as I ran across the soccer field toward the school. Something that I've done so many times before.
I didn't even bother opening my backpack when I got home. I kept drinking water and just rambled on to my mom because I was so nervous. She did make me spaghetti and sweet potatos for supper (yes, it's kind of a weird combination) and I was in bed before 8:30. It was kind of hard to get to sleep because I was really nervous about the meet and sad about what it could mean. But when I finally got to sleep, I actually had a couple of dreams. They were all different versions of our district cross country meet, held in different places, with different results. One took place in a parking lot around cones. But when I woke up, I felt rested. My legs felt okay and my throat didn't even hurt that much. Of course, it didn't stay that way but it did give me a little extra confidence.
As I put on my cross country shirt before school, I realized that no matter what, this was the last time I would get to wear my xc clothes to school because of a meet. Not that I was able to pay attention to anything at school anyways. I should've been given a pass that said "most important cross country meet of life, please excuse".
I don't have a 6th hour so I went home before our meet began at 4:00. It had been steadily raining the whole day, it was windy, and was only about 45 degrees. When I got home, my mom told me that only four districts out of 20 hadn't been canceled. And lucky us, ours was still on. I got all my stuff together and put on all my clothes. I decided to wear my underarmour like top even though my coach told us not to wear anything if it was above 40 degrees. I figured he could deal with it and got ready to leave. It really kind of hit me then, the whole significance of the meet. That it could be my last cross country meet. I started crying and I just couldn't stop. My mom gave me a little pep talk that made me feel better. I drove to the meet crying though. I heard my favorite song ever, "Far Away" by Nickelback and another song I like "If You Only Knew" by Shinedown. I was still really upset and nervous though. This made me kind of glad that it was raining when I got to the meet because it would hide my tears.
I arrived at 3:00 but I was the first person from my team there. My coach was getting the tarp out of his car so he could put it under our little tent (that had sides). He said something to me about someone who was probably going to be at the meet but I was wondering where my teammates where. We finally started warming up at 3:11. It was bittersweet, because I knew this could be the last time I would warmup for a cross country meet. I knew that this was the last time I would get to run on my home course. Since the course had changed a little, my coach told us to do the second half. I told me teammates this but they said we were going to do the whole thing. I figured that was there problem then and I would do it later on my own. My coach came over after the first mile though and told us to do the second part, like I had said. This made me a little frustrated, because no one had listened to me and then it seemed like my fault. I was a little more worried though about how I felt. We weren't warming up at a high speed but I was breathing heavily. My legs were doing okay but there didn't seem to be anything special. I desperately wanted this though, so I ignored it all. I concentrated instead of remembering this course, this warmup, and how the rain didn't feel that bad anymore. I then finished the warmup by myself because I stopped at the lone Portapotty and kind of wanted to be alone. I ran the part of the course that had changed and then went back to the tent. My coach gave me my number. Number 304. My last cross country number.
We stretched under the tent, on a tarp that was still folded up, as it rained. The course wasn't as muddy as last week but there was standing water at some parts. Apparently, there was also a tsunami warning for the pond. JS arrived with the signs she had made from poster board and paint. I kept the sign that she had given my mom to hold. She is such a great teammate. My family then arrived and we were almost ready to go. I tied on my spikes and did my last stretches. I put my yellow race headband in my hair along with my gold hairband. My LiveSTRONG wristband was placed in my shoe, and I left the tent. My mom wished me luck as I held back tears. And then I walked to the line. For the very last time.
I only did two strides before standing on the line. After our first stride that took us to the middle of the course, our team did the traditional spike circle with our right feet. With our arms around each other in the huddle, we wished each other luck and thought about state. While everyone else shouted their cheers, we whispered cougars. And then our last stride to the line. As I stood on the line (outside box on the right, aren't we always), I looked at the crowd through the rain. I remembered how many times I have stood before on the line, waiting to run a cross country meet. At my first ever meet. At my first varsity race, the first time I wore that green jersey. At my last first meet, when everything seemed possible. At that meet where I finally broke sixteen. This could be my last time. And this could be my last chance. The gun went off, for my last cross country race.
My coach told us that we had to be in the top 15 near the beginning if we wanted a chance of qualifying for state individually. I didn't want to count on my teammates, because I wasn't sure what we could do, so I was aiming for the top 10. And I truly thought I could do it. My first 800 was in about 3:06, done next to my freshmen teammates JR and TM. My throat felt a little clogged up but I was more concerned about my legs. I was ready to go but my legs didn't seem to want to go with me. I just reminded myself that this might be my last race unless I did something so I kept going. Along the muddy course that was raked of leaves in some parts, I could see my parents and my teammates cheering me on. I had told my other friends that I didn't want them to come. If I was going to make it to state, I wanted to experience that feeling with my teammates, my coach, and my family. And if I didn't make it to state, I wanted to say goodbye with my teammates at this last meet.
There wasn't that many people at the meet and bell guy wasn't there so I didn't get the whole Tour de France experience. As I ran up the hill after the bridge, I could feel how tired my legs were beginning to feel. I had decided that I was just going to go as fast as I could for as long as I could. I also did not want to admit how I was really feeling. It was about .75 mile in when JR and TM began to leave me behind. I tried staying with them but my legs just wouldn't go. I can't just blame it on how I felt sick, my legs weren't working either. My coach yelled at me before I turned the corner to catch up to them but I was trying as hard as I could. I ran the first mile in 6:26, which concerned me a little bit. I knew our times would be slower because of the wind, rain, and cold, but this was a little too slow. Plus, I was falling behind and was just getting slower. So I thought about state.
I knew the next part, the second mile, is always the hardest so I tried to concentrate on catching the girls ahead of me. There was a girl from one of the teams we were trying to beat ahead of me and I was trying to get her. Then we went up the hill and all of a sudden, AK was beside me. I knew that she was coming and I didn't freak out. I just tried to stay with her. She went past me a little and my coach yelled five fast steps at me. I tried but my legs just wouldn't go. They were numb and cold and not fast. I knew this could be my last chance to make my mark so it wasn't like I wasn't trying. I was giving all I could.
We crossed the bridge again and ran across the ditch. I tried moving up to AK but at least the gap wasn't getting bigger. As I passed by the middle school football field, I could see the leaders of the race. JR and TM looked like they were close to the top 10, which almost seemed like a good thing, because I knew that the only way I would get to state would be if we made it as a team. My coach thought we could do it though. He also was yelling out only encouraging things at me. I appreciate the fact that he didn't tell me I sucked during my last race. I also appreciate that he didn't give up on me.
When I went up the hill to get next to the road, I remembered that this was my last chance to run the course. I even caught up to the other girl and AK a little, but then they pulled away. I hit the two mile mark in something:45. I didn't even want to know what time I was running. I could feel my throat burning and my legs slowing down. But I kept going.
We crossed back over the ditch and we entered the finishing loop on my home course for the last time. I was trying to sprint and I noticed a girl moving past me. I checked her jersey and sure enough, she was from a team we were trying to beat. This made me feel like I had to at least try to keep up with her but my legs just wouldn't go. I watched the girl catch up to AK and I cheered for her in my mind. As I turned the corner and ran the last straightaway, I reminded myself that this could very well be my last one. And even though I hadn't felt like I had anything left for the last 1.5 miles, I wasn't going to let anyone pass me and I was going to try to pass someone. I gave it my all to get to that line. I (kind of) sprinted to the finish. And even though I didn't catch up to anyone, no one caught me. AK passed the girl from the other team on the line and I came in behind them. One of my other freshman teammates came in right behind me but I pretty much knew she was back there. The girl in front of me gave me a high five in the chute and I congratulated my teammate behind me. All along, I had been worried about how my other teammates would do at this meet. And when we finally got to districts, it had been me that had struggled.
When I got out of the chute, I didn't know what to do. I might have just finished my last cross country meet. I congratulated AK and watched as my mom walked up towards me. She congratulated me and told me that it didn't matter how we did. She was proud of me. My coach walked up and gave me 3/4s of a hug. He told me "thank you" as his voice cracked and he sounded like he was going to cry. I felt the same. He told me he good job, that he was proud of me, and that it was going to be close.
I talked to JS, the assistant coach, and my teammates. I finally got cold enough that I realized I was shivering and went back to the camp to get clothes on. My senior teammate EOB was in the tent putting on her sweats. Her eyes were all red but I didn't know what to say. I sit next to her in AP Economics and we've been teammates for 3 years, but we don't talk that much. I guess I never realized how much she cared about it too. Not because she wasn't as fast as me, but because of her attitude. We both seemed to be on the verge of tears as we put on our clothes. AK walked in and got her stuff but we all just crouched around under the tent. Some of my other teammates came in and we learned that JR and TM had gotten 11th and 12th. I shouldn't have felt this way, but in a way I was kind of glad. I wanted us to all be in it together if I couldn't go by myself. That's selfish I know, but it's how I felt.
Our whole team stood around waiting for the resutls, knowing it was going to be close. And then my coach walked by the other side of the tent. Somebody must have asked him about the results and he told us. We had placed 4th, by 4 points. We weren't going to state. It had been my last meet. My last cross country meet. We all just kind of looked at each other, in some state of shock. Nobody really knew what to say. Then my sophmore teammate MT said we needed a group hug, so all of us stood in the middle of the tent hugging each other. When we stood back, EOB started crying and then I did. I gave her a hug, partly because she needed one, and partly because I needed one. JR gave me a hug after that. We both stood around the tent crying and everyone else didn't know what to do. I guess it was something you wouldn't understand until it is your last meet. You don't really know how hard it is until it happens. EOB said she was going to cooldown and I said I would go with her. I needed to say goodbye. I stepped outside of the tent after wiping away some of my tears and my coach walked by. He patted me on the back and told me I had done a great job. I didn't really say anything because I knew I would just start crying again, but somehow that gesture meant a lot to me. It was like he didn't know what to say and that he knew I was upset, but that it would be okay. And then EOB, AK, and I cooled down together after our cross country meet for the last time. EOB and I were both crying during the cooldown but we did it quietly with tears streaming down our faces. I knew our eyes were all red (although it was raining) but I didn't really care. We ran together, not talking, on the other side of the bridge. Sometimes I thought I would be okay but then it would hit me all over again. We ran the loop and then went back across the bridge. The three of us all kind of stopped running at the same time and walked towards camp. I saw my mom with my dad under their umbrellas and I walked towards them. My mom gave me a hug and then I really started crying. I was sobbing, hugging my mom, under an umbrella in the middle of a rainy district cross country meet. And I could have cared less about what anyone else was doing. When I got myself together, all the girls had left so I got my stuff. My mom and I walked back to my car together. We saw JS and the assistant coach in the parking lot. I didn't talk very much to them because I was still very upset. I got in my car after that and I just started crying really hard. I drove home that way, hearing the "Second Chance" song by Shinedown. I probably shouldn't have been on the roads because it was raining and I had no idea how fast I was going. I just cried all the way home.
I didn't even care that people beat me, or that I had a bad time, or anything. I had done all that I could so I didn't run bad on purpose. I was a senior who had only gone to state as an alternate. Of course, I was trying with everything I could. I wanted to prove to myself, to everyone else, that I had really become a runner. I wanted to run my last meet at 11:00 on Halloween in Fort Dodge. I wanted to say goodbye at a place that truly cares about cross country.
And if I wouldn't have had my bad day, we might've made it. All the freshmen had great meets. AK didn't have the best meet but she did better than me. And I was supposed to be the leader of the team. I should've been up there. And then we wouldn't have been four points behind in fourth place.We should be going to state. Even though we haven't beaten the third place team in years, we would have deserved it. It was only four points. And we almost made it. We almost made it.
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
WHY I LOVE CROSS COUNTRY
I might only have one cross country practice left. I might also have more than a week of practice left. Either way, I don't have that many practices left. But this has only intensified my feelings for the sport. It has made me love it even more.
I complain a lot about cross country. I complain about how no one else in our school cares, how no one comes to our meets to support us, how almost no one knows our school has a cross country team, or even knows what cross country is. I complain about how we have one of the smallest sports teams in the school and how no one pays attention to us. But really, I don't think I'd want it any other way. I love how cross country is its only little sport. I love how hardly anyone goes out for cross country, because it means that the majority of the people of the team really care about the sport. I wouldn't even want a large team because I love how it's just us. I love how the rest of the school thinks we are amazing superhumans because they don't really know anything about cross country. I love how other sports teams both look down and look up to us. I even love when people ask me why I participate in the sport, although it kind of bothers me. It's like they are both confused and impressed with us.
I love being able to do one of the things I love best with people who are some of my best friends. I love how I know all these personal things about my teammates but I barely talk to them in school. Before and after a race, people share all kinds of things they'd tell no one else, even though its their true selves. I love the races, seeing the colorful, long lines of people stretched out across the fields. I love cheering my teammates on, and cheering other people on, just because they run cross country. I love riding the bus after meets and laughing with my teammates. I love hearing people cheer for me. I love how we congratulate each other after the race and how you don't have to win to do your best. I love how we run in all kinds of weather and just deal with it. I love how it is just one race but also many races. I love how it is an individual yet team sport. How everyone counts on you but you count on everyone.
I love practices. I even look forward to most of them. I love the track workouts, the long runs, the tempo runs, and everything else. I love running around the lake, knowing that I can do anything because I am a cross country runner. I love seeing the creepers on the trail and speeding up as you pass them. I love getting out of the way of bikes and dogs. I love looking down the trail at the yellow dashed lines painted on the asphalt as the sun shines above. I love running with the leaves crunching under my feet. I love losing what feels like gallons of sweat while knowing the person next to you might be sweating even more. I love running in the rain, looking at each other knowing that both of you are going to jump into the puddles to splash each other. I love how you can act like a 5 year old on rainy runs. I love knowing you are almost done with your run but I also love when you know that you are just beginning.
I love knowing that I'm not the only one who has a whole wardrobe of running shirts. I love that I can easily convert miles to kilometers or meters and calculate any kind of split. I love knowing that my teammates will be there for me no matter what. I love knowing that my running shoes and socks might smell but I'm not the only one. I love being able to wring the water and sweat out of my clothes after practice. I love how this sports gives back even more than the great amount you put into it. I love how it changes you and makes you into yourself.
I love looking off into the distance, hearing the steady beat of my feet hitting the ground, knowing that I am a cross country runner. I love having this place to belong. I love cross country. Even more than I thought I could.
I complain a lot about cross country. I complain about how no one else in our school cares, how no one comes to our meets to support us, how almost no one knows our school has a cross country team, or even knows what cross country is. I complain about how we have one of the smallest sports teams in the school and how no one pays attention to us. But really, I don't think I'd want it any other way. I love how cross country is its only little sport. I love how hardly anyone goes out for cross country, because it means that the majority of the people of the team really care about the sport. I wouldn't even want a large team because I love how it's just us. I love how the rest of the school thinks we are amazing superhumans because they don't really know anything about cross country. I love how other sports teams both look down and look up to us. I even love when people ask me why I participate in the sport, although it kind of bothers me. It's like they are both confused and impressed with us.
I love being able to do one of the things I love best with people who are some of my best friends. I love how I know all these personal things about my teammates but I barely talk to them in school. Before and after a race, people share all kinds of things they'd tell no one else, even though its their true selves. I love the races, seeing the colorful, long lines of people stretched out across the fields. I love cheering my teammates on, and cheering other people on, just because they run cross country. I love riding the bus after meets and laughing with my teammates. I love hearing people cheer for me. I love how we congratulate each other after the race and how you don't have to win to do your best. I love how we run in all kinds of weather and just deal with it. I love how it is just one race but also many races. I love how it is an individual yet team sport. How everyone counts on you but you count on everyone.
I love practices. I even look forward to most of them. I love the track workouts, the long runs, the tempo runs, and everything else. I love running around the lake, knowing that I can do anything because I am a cross country runner. I love seeing the creepers on the trail and speeding up as you pass them. I love getting out of the way of bikes and dogs. I love looking down the trail at the yellow dashed lines painted on the asphalt as the sun shines above. I love running with the leaves crunching under my feet. I love losing what feels like gallons of sweat while knowing the person next to you might be sweating even more. I love running in the rain, looking at each other knowing that both of you are going to jump into the puddles to splash each other. I love how you can act like a 5 year old on rainy runs. I love knowing you are almost done with your run but I also love when you know that you are just beginning.
I love knowing that I'm not the only one who has a whole wardrobe of running shirts. I love that I can easily convert miles to kilometers or meters and calculate any kind of split. I love knowing that my teammates will be there for me no matter what. I love knowing that my running shoes and socks might smell but I'm not the only one. I love being able to wring the water and sweat out of my clothes after practice. I love how this sports gives back even more than the great amount you put into it. I love how it changes you and makes you into yourself.
I love looking off into the distance, hearing the steady beat of my feet hitting the ground, knowing that I am a cross country runner. I love having this place to belong. I love cross country. Even more than I thought I could.
Saturday, October 17, 2009
XC RACE REPORT: THERE IS NO BAD WEATHER
It is hard to describe cross country weather. My perfect cross country weather would have to be 45-50 degree, sunny with blue skies. But that is perfect cross country weather. Real cross country weather though, can be just about anything. The guy's coach told us that he has been to a meet where the snow was deep enough that you couldn't see the white line so they had to shovel off parts of the course. My first cross country race took place in over 95 degree heat. There were a couple ambulances, fire trucks, and police cars there, and four people had to be taken to the hospital afterwards. I have raced in varying levels of rain, heat, cold, and sun. Cross country meets can take place in any kind of weather (except for lightening) and that is part of what makes us so tough. We run in everything. Including a course where most of the white line has disappeared in the mud while it is cold and drizzling rain. And you know what, it was fun.
We got out of class at 12:40 on Thursday. The divisional (or conference) meet was being held about 1.5 hours away on a course that we ran twice last year. Both times, I did not do well. I wasn't really looking forward to this meet because of this. Strangely enough though, I really wasn't nervous throughout the day. Even when I thought about the meet, it didn't really affect me. This made me worried that I was going to do something similar to my last meets. Before, during, and afterwards, I kind of had a feeling of indifference, that I didn't really care that much. I would think about the race and I would not want to run it. Practices would be okay, but thinking about the misery and pain during the races made me not want to race. But I love racing, so I don't really get it. I was determined to care about this race though, because I don't have many left.
On the bus ride to the course, I had a discussion with JS about our childhoods. While eating some of my snacks, I noticed that it was raining outside. We had known the weather; it was supposed to be about 42 degrees but feel like 36 and it was going to rain. Looking outside at this weather though, from the heated comfort of the bus, it looked even worse than it sounded. But then I remembered that cross country runners are supposed to be tough. We are not soft people. And plus, I could tell all my non running friends about this and they would think I was amazing.
We arrived late, only about 45 minutes before the fresh/soph race. My coach told varsity to stay on the bus while everyone else left to set up camp in the rain. One of the people in charge of the meet apparently told my coach to make everyone warmup off the course so they could save it for varsity. It's not like anyone is going to listen to this though, because most of the teams don't run here regularily so they don't know the course.
My teammates and I stayed on the bus for awhile, only getting off to go for a bathroom break (they actually had real bathrooms because the course was at a multi level soccer complex). We did go cheer on the fresh/soph runners because it was their last meet for the year. This was our first look at the condition of the course and it looked a little muddy. More like a lot muddy, actually. While I was standing with JS while she took pictures (she is now the team photographer), we saw a couple of girls run by with mud all up one side, indicating that they had fallen. Everyone else just had mud on their legs, although we did see a girl with mud on her face. It was drizzling rain, the course was turning into a path of mud, and it looked slippery. And I was actually kind of looking forward to the race.
Varsity was supposed to run at 5:30 (although they were running ahead) so we began warming up a little before the JV girl's race. The freshmen didn't know the course so we made sure to do most of it, although it loops around a lot. Both the boy's and the girl's race loops around part of the course three times, so it was aready a mud pit by the time we began.
We got out of class at 12:40 on Thursday. The divisional (or conference) meet was being held about 1.5 hours away on a course that we ran twice last year. Both times, I did not do well. I wasn't really looking forward to this meet because of this. Strangely enough though, I really wasn't nervous throughout the day. Even when I thought about the meet, it didn't really affect me. This made me worried that I was going to do something similar to my last meets. Before, during, and afterwards, I kind of had a feeling of indifference, that I didn't really care that much. I would think about the race and I would not want to run it. Practices would be okay, but thinking about the misery and pain during the races made me not want to race. But I love racing, so I don't really get it. I was determined to care about this race though, because I don't have many left.
On the bus ride to the course, I had a discussion with JS about our childhoods. While eating some of my snacks, I noticed that it was raining outside. We had known the weather; it was supposed to be about 42 degrees but feel like 36 and it was going to rain. Looking outside at this weather though, from the heated comfort of the bus, it looked even worse than it sounded. But then I remembered that cross country runners are supposed to be tough. We are not soft people. And plus, I could tell all my non running friends about this and they would think I was amazing.
We arrived late, only about 45 minutes before the fresh/soph race. My coach told varsity to stay on the bus while everyone else left to set up camp in the rain. One of the people in charge of the meet apparently told my coach to make everyone warmup off the course so they could save it for varsity. It's not like anyone is going to listen to this though, because most of the teams don't run here regularily so they don't know the course.
My teammates and I stayed on the bus for awhile, only getting off to go for a bathroom break (they actually had real bathrooms because the course was at a multi level soccer complex). We did go cheer on the fresh/soph runners because it was their last meet for the year. This was our first look at the condition of the course and it looked a little muddy. More like a lot muddy, actually. While I was standing with JS while she took pictures (she is now the team photographer), we saw a couple of girls run by with mud all up one side, indicating that they had fallen. Everyone else just had mud on their legs, although we did see a girl with mud on her face. It was drizzling rain, the course was turning into a path of mud, and it looked slippery. And I was actually kind of looking forward to the race.
Varsity was supposed to run at 5:30 (although they were running ahead) so we began warming up a little before the JV girl's race. The freshmen didn't know the course so we made sure to do most of it, although it loops around a lot. Both the boy's and the girl's race loops around part of the course three times, so it was aready a mud pit by the time we began.
Our shoes were sinking into the mud and there were still two races to go before we raced. It was lightly raining out and it was cold. My pants were wet with mud up to my knees in the back and my new shoes had grass stuck all over them. The fresh/soph race results were about 45 seconds slower and more people were falling in each race. But this is cross country, so we were going to have to run.
After our warmup, we stretched under our little tent on the tarp. Our coach chose this time to give us his version of a pep talk. He told us that our times would suck because parts of the course were 6 inches of mud. He said it would feel like 3.1 miles instead of 2.5 miles and it would feel incredibly long. We shouldn't try to run preplanned times because we would get incredibly tired after the first mile. We shouldn't go out fast but we would catch people at the end. It was cold, rainy, and muddy, and there was a long gradual hill that we would have to run twice. Needless to say, it wasn't exactly a peppy pep talk. Our coach was telling the truth, however.
Before we went to the starting line, one of my teammates called my name. She started laughing and told me not to fall like I did earlier in the season. Such helpful advice. We went to the starting line early because the meet was running ahead. I ran a few strides with my teammates before going back to our box (which was on the outside, what a surprise). And then we were told to take off our sweats. Then the guy told us we had two minutes until the race. It was in the mid thirties out so there was more than a few of us that were a little angry at this. I was only wearing my underamour like top under my uniform so it was a cold wait.
It was then that my teammate TM realized that she had forgotten her race number. She is just a freshmen but that is just something you don't do. This meant that she had to run back over to the tent or the bus and back while she still had her sweats on. When she made it back, most of us were on the line. A few of my other teammates helped her get her sweats off while she tried to pin her number on. I stood on the line and got ready to race. I wasn't trying to be mean or uncaring but it really was her problem. I still had my race to run and I didn't want to get off focus because of her mistake. So when the guy lifted his hand and was going to shoot off the gun, while TM was trying to pin her number on, I was on the line ready to go. She was yelling at him to wait but he couldn't hear her. He did make us wait a little though, because he said we were moving around too much. TM managed to get two pins attached to her jersey before the gun was shot off. But I was ready.
The first 200m of the course were actually not that muddy. It wasn't very wide however, so everyone was trying to get into position. I ended up a little farther than I wanted to be at the beginning but I remembered what my coach said about starting out fast. We ran up a little hill to the next level of soccer fields and there the mud began.
The mud wasn't that big of deal until we turned the first corner. The first corner itself was almost pure mud. There were flags all over the course that we had to make sure to go around so everyone was moving to the left in order to do this. We were all still in a pack so it was very crowded. And then a girl near me fell. All of us immediately tried to avoid her so there were elbows flying as we cut each other off. I felt someone spike me but it didn't really bother me. I was just trying not to fall.
We then ran the loop that had been raced on 12 times before us. Not to mention everyone that had warmed up on the course. It was a muddy mess which made it kind of funny. We ran down the hill to the next soccer field (making sure not to fall) and turned the corner, going around the flags, as some guy yelled that the corner was slippery. Obviously. And then the muddiest stretch began.
When running on a muddy course, most people would run to the side to avoid it. Except so many people had done this on the course, that there really wasn't anywhere to go. One side sloped down so it wasn't an option. Then there was the 15ft. wide mud path. On the side of that, there was slightly less mud and more water. While running on it, you would sink down and feel it seep into your spikes. On one of my steps, I could feel my shoe slip a little from my foot as the mud grabbed at it. When going back up to the other soccer field, I was grateful for my spikes so I could kind of grab into the ground. AK had been ahead of me until this point but I didn't freak out and passed her on the hill. I just felt confident that I could do it.
The next part took us near some trees and into more mud. I'm pretty sure it was raining during my race but I didn't feel it because I was more concerned about the brown stuff on the ground. I did pass this guy with a cowbell during this part though. Yes, a cowbell. He was cheering for everyone too, so I didn't figure out what team he was really from. I made it around the multiple soccer field loop though, and moved into a better position. I was ahead of a bunch of packs, but there was a pack about 10 seconds in front of me with most of the girls from one school. I was kind of stuck between the two groups by myself but I kept going and didn't move back.
We passed the mile marker sometime in the next section, but I didn't remember where it was and no one was yelling out times, probably because they didn't matter much. We began going down the big hill loop. AK told me last year to stride down this hill and somehow this always makes us laugh when we go to this course. I remembered what she had said and did my best to stride down the hill. I slowed down before I turned the corner though, because it was looking kind of slippery. I made it around without falling and ran a flatter part before going up more of the hill. You can't quickly power up the hill but you can't just go up slowly so it just sucks all the way around. Add this to the fact that the hill is only about 10ft. wide between a fence and a downward slope. The hill was pure mud and there was no avoiding it. I tried running on the edge for awhile but it didn't really make a difference. I made it though and didn't fall that far back. My coach just kept telling me that these girls were coming back to me and that I was going to beat some of them.
Shortly before the turn onto the third time around the soccer field loop, I realized that I didn't feel that cold. Then I looked down at my legs to make sure they were still there. Keep in mind that this was towards the end of a race while it was raining and felt like it was in the mid 30's. I was not thinking straight. My legs were still there though and they looked a little muddy. But as I went around that loop for the last time, it was really kind of hilarious. The conditions were so miserable that it was funny. And I was enjoying it.
I reached the two mile mark and remembered what my coach had told us earlier. It looks like a long way to the finish line but our coach said that we had to start kicking anyways. I ran down a slight hill and turned the corner. I was catching up to the girls in front of me. One of the girls pushed one of the flags out of her face so her teammate pushed it out of her way and it came around to hit the girl a little behind them right in the face. I avoided the flag. As we went up half of the long, gradual hill though, I didn't even try to avoid the mud. I didn't run through the center of the course, because it sucked you down like quicksand but didn't go out of my way to get away from it. Then I was up the hill and near the finish line. We had about 250m to go and I was getting really close to a girl ahead of me. I passed her with about 175m to go and then ran up a little hill to the soccer field where the finish line was.
This was no 400m finishing straight. It was 100m, but actually not that muddy. There was still a pack of girls ahead of me from the same team and I knew I had to try and get some of them. One of them was my grandma's neighbor (she absolutely adores these kids) and I knew I wouldn't hear the end of it if she beat me. I pulled out all the energy I had left and raced her to the line, barely getting there before her. The chute was backed up but both of us sprinted past the line. I ran into one of the ladies managing the chute and then some guy yanked me back by my jersey. Right after I had just finished a race. I wasn't going to cut and there really wasn't a way to cut so I'm not sure why this was neccessary. I talked to my grandma's neighbor after this, although she was a little too talkative for still being in the chute. She seemed a little mad that it was me who beat her at the line, but that is why I wanted to beat her anyways. She had a PR by 2 seconds though and I ran a 16:41, my second slowest time of the season. My coach had told us our times would suck and they did. After analyzing the results, I figured that I was about 5 seconds slower that I should have been but I placed 20th.
After getting out of the chute, I waited for my teammates. One of the freshmen beat both TM and AK which was a little surprising. I was talking to AK near the line when she looked down at my legs and told me that I was bleeding. I didn't really know what she was talking about until I looked down at the lower part of my right leg. Sure enough, next to all the mud plastered on my legs, blood had dripped down. I figured it was from the girl who had spiked me on the first corner, but I was pretty proud of it. My coach came up to me and after congratulating me, he said he liked my battle scar. My dad then took some pictures of me and my muddiness before I went back to camp and talked with my teammates. I put on most of my sweats and then ran over to my down as a cooldown. I talked to him and some other people for awhile, got a conference Tshirt that raised money for breast cancer research, and then ran back to the bus when I realized my team was leaving.
I ate my Subway sandwhich, harvest chedder Sunchips (which taste amazing after a race), and chocolate chip cookie. This was going to be my last cross country bus ride and I wanted to remember it. JS and I talked on the way home, and my coach even joked around with us. Looking around at a few of my teammates who had stayed to ride the bus, as we rode home, it was sad. We all share something that binds us together. I love knowing that we have cross country in common, that we all participate in one of the greatest sports.
Our team placed 5th out of 7th, and most of varsity didn't run that well. One of the freshmen really confirmed that she was hurt and is not going to run in the next weeks. My coach seemed okay with the results the night of the race, but on Friday, he was very angry. He acted like he used to act. He was almost 15 minutes late to practice and considered skipping out on us. The week before districts, the state qualifying meet. It made me remember why I like the newer version of my coach. Regardless of this, I want to remember these next days of cross country. Remember what makes the sport so great. Remember why I am going to miss this sport. Remember why I love this sport so much.
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
XC RACE REPORT: WHERE THE STREETS HAVE NO NAME
Last Thursday, was my last MVC Supermeet. The last time I will run on that particular course. The last time I might run against some of those teams. Cross country is almost over. But I'm not ready for it to end.
We got to leave school early because the fresh/soph girl's race began at 3:30. I was racing at 5:10 so I had a ways to go. I didn't really do much on the 30 minute bus ride except to think about what my mom had asked me that morning. She had known that I didn't have a goal and struggled more with my race last week because of that. She asked me what my goal was for this meet and so I was trying to think of one. It was the same course as last week, only with different teams. It was also colder (in the low 40's) and rainy. Out of the four times I have ran at that course though, three have been rainy, so I was used to it.
When we arrived, my coach told us to set up camp as far away from the boys as possible, because most of them don't care about xc (this didn't work because we got there first). We put up our little tent, that is kind of embarrassing because it only goes up to about half the normal height of tents. My coach talked to us for awhile and I had some snacks. We cheered on our teammates and then I began warming up with AK, because everyone else had left earlier.
As I ran the warmup, I tried to make myself realize how much I want it. Wanting it more than everyone else makes a difference. You can push yourself so much harder. I knew my legs could do it, if I made them and realized that this was something I wanted. I also tried to tell myself not to freak out if my teammates were near me. AK and the freshman, TM, were near me in the last race and it made me panic. I wanted to beat them. I was determined to just run with them though, and not try to change my race just because one of my close competitors was wearing the same jersey that I was.
During the warmup, I also passed the spot where one of my senior teammates had asked me if I was going to miss xc, at our meet the week before. I had told her that of course I was going to miss it. I remembered that I didn't have many chances left in cross country so I had to make every single one count. Including this race.
Our team was in the second box from the left. We stood around and tried to keep warm in our sweats before we had to take them off. Then we told each other good luck and the gun went off. The opening stretch is very long, about 400m, and it's wide, so you don't have to cut over right away. I felt like I got off to a little faster start than I wanted, but I managed to settle in before we turned the first corner. I wanted to get into my rhythm so I could begin running my race.
It had rained almost the entire day so the course was a mud pit. There was a big mud puddle after the first 800m that I managed to avoid but I couldn't keep away from all of it. Four races had already been run on the course which made it even muddier and the rain had made the leaves slick. There was a couple of places that felt like I wasn't even running in my spikes because I was sinking down into the mud. It didn't bother me too much though, because it reminded me of how tough xc runners are compared to everyone else.
I ran the first mile between 6:00 and 6:10; I wasn't sure what was yelled out but I think it was 6:05. This meant that I had started out faster, but I didn't know if that was a good thing. I was slightly ahead of my teammates though, so that made me feel a little better. My legs felt okay and I didn't feel tired yet.
The next part of the course involved a hill that had a slanted surface when you came down it. I still haven't figured out the best way to go down it, the right, the left, or the middle. I made it down without tripping though and made my way to a flatter stretch, where TM caught up with me. I reminded myself not to freak out and that she was just another competitor in the race. My reaction was a little better than last week but I did change my rhythm a little. I was just trying to keep up with her when we hit a spot where my legs began feeling tired. It was almost the same exact spot as last week; it was about 1.75 miles into the race. It was all I could do to remind myself of last week's quote, "when you feel like giving up, remember why you held on for so long". So I kept holding on.
There is a slight hill, just a little before the 2 mile mark. It really shouldn't be that big of deal but when it comes near enough to the end of a race that you feel really tired, but not close enough to the finish line for it not to matter, it really does matter a lot. I tried staying with TM as we went up that hill because I knew I would give up if she had gotten away from me. My coach was yelling as we went past him and he seemed very excited.
At almost the same part as last week, slightly before we turn the corner to the uphill finishing straightaway, TM got ahead of me. I stayed calm though and kept a little closer than I had before. I waited until a little after the corner before giving everything. I sprinted past TM and climbed up the hill. I just told myself that I had to get up the hill and then I was at the finish line, although that isn't true. But once it was flat, I knew I could make it. I could see the numbers changing on the clock and the people beside me that passed me going one way or the other. I finished in 15:52, but that's really all I remember about finishing. According to the results, there was a girl right in front of me who finished in the same time, but I can seriously not remember anything about it. I didn't even know in the chute. I took 18th place, with TM getting 20th, in 15:57. AK didn't have her best race and was farther back. TM told me after I had congratulated her, that she sucks at sprinting at the end. I told her it was because she had left it all out on the rest of the course and then I found my parents. I felt a little dizzy after my race though, kind of like the week before.
AK and I did our cooldown together, which consisted of running from camp to the middle of the finishing straight, cheering on the varsity boys, and then running back to camp. We were cold, wet, and tired. Then, the few of us that were riding the bus home had to wait for about 45 minutes because both our coachs had just left us. It was getting dark out, and my pants, socks, and shoes were wet. We all talked to each other though, talking about random topics, with a feeling that can only be felt after a race. It's like everyone is relieved and happy and free of almost all emotions. It's when you feel like you are really yourself and you can talk about anything. And when we finally made it back to the bus, that feeling stayed. My coach was really happy because we placed fifth and he thought that at best, we'd get 6th. We actually beat a ranked team. Then our team all joked around with each other (after changing into dry clothes) and it was just fun. This doesn't happen in track, because the sprinters are there. It only happens in cross country, and I'm really going to miss it.
I talked to my coach the next morning so I could look at the results. I only briefly looked at my time, and I didn't even look at my place. What I really cared about was my place when the runners not in our district were taken out. The top ten individuals and top three teams make it to state. I counted down the list and realized that I would have been 9th. Ninth place. I could have a chance. Three of the four teams that had beat us though, are in our district. And one of those teams was not running their number two runner, who probably would have placed second. That bumps me down to 10th. I'm on the edge. But looking at this meet, it did go okay. I had a PR. It was my third race under sixteen minutes. What I have to remember though, is that I want it.
We got to leave school early because the fresh/soph girl's race began at 3:30. I was racing at 5:10 so I had a ways to go. I didn't really do much on the 30 minute bus ride except to think about what my mom had asked me that morning. She had known that I didn't have a goal and struggled more with my race last week because of that. She asked me what my goal was for this meet and so I was trying to think of one. It was the same course as last week, only with different teams. It was also colder (in the low 40's) and rainy. Out of the four times I have ran at that course though, three have been rainy, so I was used to it.
When we arrived, my coach told us to set up camp as far away from the boys as possible, because most of them don't care about xc (this didn't work because we got there first). We put up our little tent, that is kind of embarrassing because it only goes up to about half the normal height of tents. My coach talked to us for awhile and I had some snacks. We cheered on our teammates and then I began warming up with AK, because everyone else had left earlier.
As I ran the warmup, I tried to make myself realize how much I want it. Wanting it more than everyone else makes a difference. You can push yourself so much harder. I knew my legs could do it, if I made them and realized that this was something I wanted. I also tried to tell myself not to freak out if my teammates were near me. AK and the freshman, TM, were near me in the last race and it made me panic. I wanted to beat them. I was determined to just run with them though, and not try to change my race just because one of my close competitors was wearing the same jersey that I was.
During the warmup, I also passed the spot where one of my senior teammates had asked me if I was going to miss xc, at our meet the week before. I had told her that of course I was going to miss it. I remembered that I didn't have many chances left in cross country so I had to make every single one count. Including this race.
Our team was in the second box from the left. We stood around and tried to keep warm in our sweats before we had to take them off. Then we told each other good luck and the gun went off. The opening stretch is very long, about 400m, and it's wide, so you don't have to cut over right away. I felt like I got off to a little faster start than I wanted, but I managed to settle in before we turned the first corner. I wanted to get into my rhythm so I could begin running my race.
It had rained almost the entire day so the course was a mud pit. There was a big mud puddle after the first 800m that I managed to avoid but I couldn't keep away from all of it. Four races had already been run on the course which made it even muddier and the rain had made the leaves slick. There was a couple of places that felt like I wasn't even running in my spikes because I was sinking down into the mud. It didn't bother me too much though, because it reminded me of how tough xc runners are compared to everyone else.
I ran the first mile between 6:00 and 6:10; I wasn't sure what was yelled out but I think it was 6:05. This meant that I had started out faster, but I didn't know if that was a good thing. I was slightly ahead of my teammates though, so that made me feel a little better. My legs felt okay and I didn't feel tired yet.
The next part of the course involved a hill that had a slanted surface when you came down it. I still haven't figured out the best way to go down it, the right, the left, or the middle. I made it down without tripping though and made my way to a flatter stretch, where TM caught up with me. I reminded myself not to freak out and that she was just another competitor in the race. My reaction was a little better than last week but I did change my rhythm a little. I was just trying to keep up with her when we hit a spot where my legs began feeling tired. It was almost the same exact spot as last week; it was about 1.75 miles into the race. It was all I could do to remind myself of last week's quote, "when you feel like giving up, remember why you held on for so long". So I kept holding on.
There is a slight hill, just a little before the 2 mile mark. It really shouldn't be that big of deal but when it comes near enough to the end of a race that you feel really tired, but not close enough to the finish line for it not to matter, it really does matter a lot. I tried staying with TM as we went up that hill because I knew I would give up if she had gotten away from me. My coach was yelling as we went past him and he seemed very excited.
At almost the same part as last week, slightly before we turn the corner to the uphill finishing straightaway, TM got ahead of me. I stayed calm though and kept a little closer than I had before. I waited until a little after the corner before giving everything. I sprinted past TM and climbed up the hill. I just told myself that I had to get up the hill and then I was at the finish line, although that isn't true. But once it was flat, I knew I could make it. I could see the numbers changing on the clock and the people beside me that passed me going one way or the other. I finished in 15:52, but that's really all I remember about finishing. According to the results, there was a girl right in front of me who finished in the same time, but I can seriously not remember anything about it. I didn't even know in the chute. I took 18th place, with TM getting 20th, in 15:57. AK didn't have her best race and was farther back. TM told me after I had congratulated her, that she sucks at sprinting at the end. I told her it was because she had left it all out on the rest of the course and then I found my parents. I felt a little dizzy after my race though, kind of like the week before.
AK and I did our cooldown together, which consisted of running from camp to the middle of the finishing straight, cheering on the varsity boys, and then running back to camp. We were cold, wet, and tired. Then, the few of us that were riding the bus home had to wait for about 45 minutes because both our coachs had just left us. It was getting dark out, and my pants, socks, and shoes were wet. We all talked to each other though, talking about random topics, with a feeling that can only be felt after a race. It's like everyone is relieved and happy and free of almost all emotions. It's when you feel like you are really yourself and you can talk about anything. And when we finally made it back to the bus, that feeling stayed. My coach was really happy because we placed fifth and he thought that at best, we'd get 6th. We actually beat a ranked team. Then our team all joked around with each other (after changing into dry clothes) and it was just fun. This doesn't happen in track, because the sprinters are there. It only happens in cross country, and I'm really going to miss it.
I talked to my coach the next morning so I could look at the results. I only briefly looked at my time, and I didn't even look at my place. What I really cared about was my place when the runners not in our district were taken out. The top ten individuals and top three teams make it to state. I counted down the list and realized that I would have been 9th. Ninth place. I could have a chance. Three of the four teams that had beat us though, are in our district. And one of those teams was not running their number two runner, who probably would have placed second. That bumps me down to 10th. I'm on the edge. But looking at this meet, it did go okay. I had a PR. It was my third race under sixteen minutes. What I have to remember though, is that I want it.
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
XC RACE REPORT: HOLDING ON
"When you feel like giving up, remember why you held on so long in the first place." ~Unknown
Once upon a time, when I was slow(er), I used to listen to all the fast girls complain about their fast times. They didn't know that I would love to even run what they considered their bad times. And now that I am one of those fast girls, I remember that. I remember them saying how how they had a terrible race and that they completely sucked. And I remember thinking that I would do almost anything to run that time. So I will remember this as I write this post.
It was looking good coming into Tuesday's meet. We were running at a fast course about a half an hour away. The course is pretty flat and my coach is always telling us it's short. We ignore him though because the course makes us feel good. Most of the time. The day of the meet was beautiful too. The skies were blue, a pretty color with no clouds. It was also in the mid 60's so it was a lot cooler than Thursday's meet.
The only problem was, I didn't know what I wanted to do. I had beaten sixteen. That has been my goal for so long, that I really didn't know what my goal for this meet should be. The girl I have been running with, was going to a different meet, and I wasn't sure about the other teams that were going to be at our meet. I wanted to do well in my race, of course, but I didn't have that one specific thing that I felt I needed to accomplish.
The varsity girls were running last, supposedly at 5:45. We arrived around 3:45 while the boy's bus had taken a right turn instead of a left, so they were not to be seen until twenty minutes later. During this time, we realized the starting line had been moved back (making the course the right length my coach said), and that we were now running at 6:10. The boy's race had been split into JV and fresh/soph, moving our times back. They made this decision about an hour before the first race, which made the guy's coach mad, and they said we had to give back out pins from our numbers, which made him even more mad. Plus, the guy's team still wasn't there, so it was getting kind of funny.
We still had awhile before our race so we just laid around camp. When the guy's finally arrived, one of them got into a huge argument with the coach, which was actually quite funny. While we were waiting, the guy's varsity team also took three large sticks and managed to put them in some kid's sweats so it looked like a person. This was absolutely hilarious. The guy's all posed with it for pictures, but even funnier was the kid's reaction after he came back from his race. It was very entertaining.
We began warming up about an hour before our race. My legs felt okay but the weather felt good. More importantly, I didn't feel like I did on Monday. It had been windy that day, so my pollen/hay fever allergies were really bothering me. My back hurt from sleeping upright most of the night and my throat hurt a little from my nose draining but I was feeling a lot better. The only thing that didn't feel okay, was how I actually felt. There are some days when you feel like running, and others when you don't. I tried to convince myself that I wanted to race, but I just wasn't feeling it.
My coach was talking to the rest of the varsity team while I was talking to my parents but he was done by the time I came over. He told me that JV and fresh/soph didn't do as well because they didn't realize that even though it was a fast course, you still have to run fast. He told me I already knew that though and I was out for blood and guts. Then as I walked away to go stretch, he told me that I was so money, I didn't even know it.
I stood on the starting line, shivering because I had just taken off my sweats, and looking at the people lining both sides of the beginning of the course. I didn't know what I wanted to do or what I could do. What I was going to do, however, was my absolute best. And then the race began.
Since I've only really raced with one of the teams at the meet, I wasn't sure where I should start out. I felt like I didn't know what I was doing at all. I did not feel in control. Or relaxed. Especially when I knew AK and one of the freshmen were right behind me after a mile. Which I finished in 6:10, so it's not like I was going all that slow. But my legs weren't feeling all that fast, so this was getting me a little worried. And I knew I should be more concerned about racing other people and trying to get our team a good place, but I wasn't. I was concerned about being the first in from my team. It's not like I'd be mad at them if they beat me, but it is just something I feels like I have to do.
I was about halfway through when the freshman caught up to me and I realized AK was right behind me. I didn't focus on beating other people when this happened, I focused on beating my own teammates. I wasn't sure if I could do it though. My legs were getting tired and my upper body felt stuffed up. I was coughing up the stuff that was draining from my noise but since I'm not coordinated enough to spit while I race, it just stayed in my throat. And this is where I have to honor JS (who now has a stress fracture in each femur, she's that talented). She runs with asthma and allergies, and I haven't realized how hard it really is until I ran that race.
I stayed with my teammates during the race. AK was right behind me, so I wasn't sure how she felt, but the freshman was right beside me and she was looking strong. I wanted to slow down, to go easier. To maybe run right behind her. But I knew that if I did that, then I would just start falling back. If I got behind too far from the finish line, I would give up and I wouldn't have even a chance to beat my teammates. I knew that, so I kept going. And really, the only reason I did as well as I did, was because of my teammates. If they hadn't been there right beside me, I might have fallen apart. So in a way, I guess I have to appreciate that.
With 800m left, we were basically in the same position. I wasn't really racing anyone else besides my two teammates. And I was giving everything I could to stay with them. About 25m before we turned the corner to the finishing straight (an uphill 400m), I slipped behind the freshman. I wasn't thinking about times or places, I just thought about how I needed to beat my teammates in the last straightaway.
She was ahead of me by a little bit after we turned the corner and began making our way to the finish line. But I kept going, slowly inching my way back to her. I knew that I could pass her, but then I would have to hang on until the line. But when I did pass her, it gave me a little extra something. I was not going to let them beat me. I was going to be the first one in on our team. I wanted it so much. It was something I had to do for myself. So I dug everything out. I didn't know how far behind they were, or what time I was coming in at, or what place I was in. I just kept sprinting. Up a very long finishing straight. It didn't seem this long in our warmup but it seemed like the race just kept going on. Finally I reached the flags near the line and saw a girl in front of me. We were so close to the line, but I reached down and found a little more. I passed her near the line and then I was in the chute. I had beat my teammates. And I had finished in 15:54. Which is a second faster than last Thursday.
That race hurt. There was no smiling or marching through the chute or feeling like I could keep on running. It did not feel good. But I did it. I had made it. And I was done with my race. So I congratulated my teammates as they came out of the chute. I grabbed some water and talked to my parents. My coach came over to me and asked me how it felt. I told him it wasn't good. He said that I didn't look in control or relaxed like last week. Probably because I didn't feel that way.
I did a quick cooldown with AK (who was 8 seconds behind me and a second ahead of the freshman). Then I grabbed a cookie and a bagel before walking back to the bus. The ride home was a lot of fun. It was during this ride as I looked at the beautiful sunset, that I realized that I wouldn't get to do this much more. It's different in track because everyone else is there. But in xc when it's just my teammates and my coach, it's so much fun. I'm really going to miss that.
I don't know how I managed to run my race as fast as I did. All I know, is that it really felt like I ran my race as fast as it did. But I didn't give up and I got through it. Bringing myself just another step closer.
Thursday, September 24, 2009
XC RACE REPORT: THE REAL THING
"There is a moment in every race. A moment where you can either quit, fold, or say to yourself "I can do this." ~Gatorade Ad
I have always wondered what it would be like to accomplish what I did today. I have thought about how it would happen, where it would happen, and when it would happen. I have thought about what it would feel like when I finally did it. What I now know is this, the real thing is way better than anything my imagination could come up with.
When I wake up on race days, I evalute how my legs feel before I even get out of bed. They happened to feel good on this particular Thursday. And when I saw that scattered showers were in the forcast, they felt even better. It seemed like everyone was helping me get ready to run fast at my meet however. We had tortellini at lunch as it continued to be a lovely day of rain and clouds outside. They played my songs on the radio and Fabian Cancellara flew to the world time trial championships win. Even as the sun came out outside, it remained cool. All these events just accumulated to my feeling of 'I can do this'.
Today's meet was on our home course. The course that I have ran so many practices and meets at. The course that holds so many memories. But I wanted to add another memory. I wanted to break 16. I came close two weeks ago but I wanted the full accomplishment this time. Last week, I almost didn't want to break 16 because I wanted it to happen here. At home. It would mean so much more if I could finally break 16 and have it happen at my home course. Not because of who would be there, it's not like more people really come and watch us. I just wanted it to happen on my course.
I arrived at 4:15 for our 5:20 race. The JV/fresh soph race was combined, making our start time earlier. We were also allowed to run 10 on varsity, because only 8 teams were at the meet. This meant JS could have another chance to run varsity, even though she was our 8th fastest. This was such a weird coincidence that we agreed it was meant to be.
We ran the first part of the course as our warmup, doing a combination of walking and running. My legs were feeling pretty good, but I wasn't sure if that was just the adrenaline. More importantly, I was looking forward to the race. Positive feelings affect my running more than you might think. It was during our warmup however, that we noticed something was missing. Something important. Portapotties. There is only a couple of things that are needed for an xc meet: a field/golf course/park, white spray painted lines, a golf cart/atv/other vehicle to lead the runners, and portapotties. This meant that all the runners would have to use two different park bathrooms. One of them had only a half wall separating the toilets that faced the door, and the other had actually stalls but without the doors. Obviously, more male designed bathrooms.
Once we had gone on our bathroom adventure, we returned to camp and began stretching. I was stretching my calves against a tree when my coach came up to me to give me my number. He told me he had a surprise for me and pulled out the number one. I was going to wear number one. This was so incredibly cool. AK got thto wear 7, the second best number. I figured I had better honor my number in some way though because it might just give me an extra bit of luck.
It was sunny and kind of warm as we stood on the starting line. We were in an outside box (again) and I was on the edge. One of my teammates offered to trade with me so I wouldn't have to cut in as much, but I declined her offer. Number one should start at the beginning of the line afterall. And so the race began.
My coach had told us to start out a little slower so I wasn't concerned about being towards the front in the beginning. The girl that I ran with before was way ahead of me but I was just moving up slowly. We can all run the first mile afterall but it's the last 1.5 where you have to hang on. In spite of this, I ran my first 800 in 2:57. I then held myself back a little as we ran through the crowds along the trees. As we ran the first two loops, I did not fall. This was especially good because people were lined up on both sides to watch. Even though there were fewer teams here, it seemed like there was even more people. There was even a guy with some sort of drum or bell that was very loud but wasn't very appreciated. We left him behind however when we crossed the bridge and ran up the hill in the TdF style crowd. Throughout the first mile though, I just kept repeating to myself, sixteen, sixteen.
My first mile was done in about 6:10. I didn't start out that much slower but my legs still felt good. I was determined to make the second mile better than it had been two weeks ago. I was going to remember my goal every step. Sixteen, sixteen. Or rather, under sixteen.
The second mile was ran near the girl I have been running with. Instead of being content to run behind her, I focused on moving up past her. I was doing this when I passed a group of girls from another school. They were cheering for someone else when one of them noticed my number. Because there were no other people around, besides those racing around me, I could clearly hear them as they yelled "Look she's number one. Oh cool, she's number one. Go number one! Gooo number one!" I don't know who these people were or what school they were from, but I greatly appreciated their cheering. It made me feel just a little bit more special and helped me run even faster.
I ran back over the bridge and was past the crowds when I could hear my coach yelling from a distance. He wasn't yelling advice, just my name and telling my I was doing a great job. Just something like "Come on, come on, you're doing great. Atta kid". This, combined with the fact that I was going to everything I could to beat 16, made me pass the girl that I had been running with. I have ran behind her, next to her, and slightly ahead of her, but this time, I just left her behind. I concentrated on the group that was about ten or fifteen seconds ahead of me. I had to get under sixteen minutes.
I ran up a short steep corner hill and a long, flat, slightly downhill part before I reached the two mile mark. At 12:59. I don't think I have ever reached that point so fast before. But that's not what I was thinking. I was thinking about how I would have to run my last 800 about as fast as my first 800 to beat sixteen. This seemed almost impossible. I wasn't sure if I could do it. But then I thought to myself, I'm already two miles in and I'm going to have to do it sometime. And I wanted it. I wanted to beat sixteen so badly. So I was going to do everything possible to make it to the line in under sixteen minutes. I was going to do everything I could.
I took off after the two mile marker. I didn't think about how long I had to go, or how fast I had to go. I just thought about breaking sixteen. I was sprinting with all I had left when the girl I had been running with during the rest of the race caught up to me. We were about 600m before the line and sprinting with everthing we had. But it was then I realized that we weren't really racing each other. I actually didn't really care if she beat me, as long as I beat the clock. And because this was the 16:00.07 girl, I have to say that she might've felt the same way.
I was slightly ahead of her when we entered the finishing loop. Some guy cheered for me and then told me that I was in 8th place. As I heard the cheering for the winners, I realized that I was going to have my first top ten finish in a varsity cross country race. But I really didn't care about that. I cared about my time. Sixteen, sixteen.
I entered the finishing straight with one lone girl ahead of me. I did not think about beating her when I passed her. I thought about the clock. And how much I wanted it. So when my legs screamed at me to stop and my tired body told me to slow down, I just told myself that it was only for a little bit longer. And I reminded myself what this meant to me, how long I had worked towards breaking that barrier. When my dad shouted out "15:29, you have to go faster" or something like that, I went faster. I wasn't sure where the people were behind me. I wasn't sure if I would make it. But I gave everything. Absolutely everything. And I crossed the finish line to see those beautiful numbers on my watch. 15:54. As in fifteen minutes. As in, I had just broken sixteen minutes. I looked down at my watch a couple of seconds later to make sure that I hadn't seen it wrong. I didn't want it to be really close to sixteen, where my official time could be different and over sixteen. But when I looked down at my watch again, it said 15:57. I had done it. I broke sixteen.
I had a huge smile on my face as I marched through the chute and tore the tag of my number one. I wanted to scream and shout and tell everyone what I had just done. Instead, I kept on smiling. The winner of the race, whose name is spoken with admiration on our team, congratulated me. I stayed and congratulated my own teammates as they came out of the chute. I told JS about what I had just done and she gave me a high five. My coach came over to me and told me that I looked strong, relaxed, and in control during my race. He then asked what my time was and I told him it was under sixteen minutes. And then I walked back to camp with a smile on my face.
"I think I did it" was what I said to my parents when I walked towards them. They knew what I had been trying to do. My teammates all congratulated me afterwards. I then changed into my shoes and went with AK to do my cooldown. We only ran and walked about a mile. My legs felt like they could keep going though and I was going pretty fast. I was so excited, I wanted to keep on running.
There was popsicles waiting for us at camp when we got back. I waited to have one until my coach came over to me and told me my official time. 15:55. Fifteen minutes and fifty five seconds. A lot of fives but no sixes. I had officially broken sixteen minutes. And in the process of doing so, I took 7th place overall and received a ribbon. My team had taken fourth, finally beating the rich, parochial kids with the nice cars (as my coach called them) from down the street.
I wanted to break sixteen minutes. I wanted it so much, that I ran the last 800 faster than the first 800. When I looked down at my watch, to see 15:54, it was worth it. And that is why I run those long miles in the summer and winter. For that feeling. That feeling of accomplishment, achievement, and happiness. Knowing that I did it. Knowing that I had finally broke sixteen.
I have always wondered what it would be like to accomplish what I did today. I have thought about how it would happen, where it would happen, and when it would happen. I have thought about what it would feel like when I finally did it. What I now know is this, the real thing is way better than anything my imagination could come up with.
When I wake up on race days, I evalute how my legs feel before I even get out of bed. They happened to feel good on this particular Thursday. And when I saw that scattered showers were in the forcast, they felt even better. It seemed like everyone was helping me get ready to run fast at my meet however. We had tortellini at lunch as it continued to be a lovely day of rain and clouds outside. They played my songs on the radio and Fabian Cancellara flew to the world time trial championships win. Even as the sun came out outside, it remained cool. All these events just accumulated to my feeling of 'I can do this'.
Today's meet was on our home course. The course that I have ran so many practices and meets at. The course that holds so many memories. But I wanted to add another memory. I wanted to break 16. I came close two weeks ago but I wanted the full accomplishment this time. Last week, I almost didn't want to break 16 because I wanted it to happen here. At home. It would mean so much more if I could finally break 16 and have it happen at my home course. Not because of who would be there, it's not like more people really come and watch us. I just wanted it to happen on my course.
I arrived at 4:15 for our 5:20 race. The JV/fresh soph race was combined, making our start time earlier. We were also allowed to run 10 on varsity, because only 8 teams were at the meet. This meant JS could have another chance to run varsity, even though she was our 8th fastest. This was such a weird coincidence that we agreed it was meant to be.
We ran the first part of the course as our warmup, doing a combination of walking and running. My legs were feeling pretty good, but I wasn't sure if that was just the adrenaline. More importantly, I was looking forward to the race. Positive feelings affect my running more than you might think. It was during our warmup however, that we noticed something was missing. Something important. Portapotties. There is only a couple of things that are needed for an xc meet: a field/golf course/park, white spray painted lines, a golf cart/atv/other vehicle to lead the runners, and portapotties. This meant that all the runners would have to use two different park bathrooms. One of them had only a half wall separating the toilets that faced the door, and the other had actually stalls but without the doors. Obviously, more male designed bathrooms.
Once we had gone on our bathroom adventure, we returned to camp and began stretching. I was stretching my calves against a tree when my coach came up to me to give me my number. He told me he had a surprise for me and pulled out the number one. I was going to wear number one. This was so incredibly cool. AK got thto wear 7, the second best number. I figured I had better honor my number in some way though because it might just give me an extra bit of luck.
It was sunny and kind of warm as we stood on the starting line. We were in an outside box (again) and I was on the edge. One of my teammates offered to trade with me so I wouldn't have to cut in as much, but I declined her offer. Number one should start at the beginning of the line afterall. And so the race began.
My coach had told us to start out a little slower so I wasn't concerned about being towards the front in the beginning. The girl that I ran with before was way ahead of me but I was just moving up slowly. We can all run the first mile afterall but it's the last 1.5 where you have to hang on. In spite of this, I ran my first 800 in 2:57. I then held myself back a little as we ran through the crowds along the trees. As we ran the first two loops, I did not fall. This was especially good because people were lined up on both sides to watch. Even though there were fewer teams here, it seemed like there was even more people. There was even a guy with some sort of drum or bell that was very loud but wasn't very appreciated. We left him behind however when we crossed the bridge and ran up the hill in the TdF style crowd. Throughout the first mile though, I just kept repeating to myself, sixteen, sixteen.
My first mile was done in about 6:10. I didn't start out that much slower but my legs still felt good. I was determined to make the second mile better than it had been two weeks ago. I was going to remember my goal every step. Sixteen, sixteen. Or rather, under sixteen.
The second mile was ran near the girl I have been running with. Instead of being content to run behind her, I focused on moving up past her. I was doing this when I passed a group of girls from another school. They were cheering for someone else when one of them noticed my number. Because there were no other people around, besides those racing around me, I could clearly hear them as they yelled "Look she's number one. Oh cool, she's number one. Go number one! Gooo number one!" I don't know who these people were or what school they were from, but I greatly appreciated their cheering. It made me feel just a little bit more special and helped me run even faster.
I ran back over the bridge and was past the crowds when I could hear my coach yelling from a distance. He wasn't yelling advice, just my name and telling my I was doing a great job. Just something like "Come on, come on, you're doing great. Atta kid". This, combined with the fact that I was going to everything I could to beat 16, made me pass the girl that I had been running with. I have ran behind her, next to her, and slightly ahead of her, but this time, I just left her behind. I concentrated on the group that was about ten or fifteen seconds ahead of me. I had to get under sixteen minutes.
I ran up a short steep corner hill and a long, flat, slightly downhill part before I reached the two mile mark. At 12:59. I don't think I have ever reached that point so fast before. But that's not what I was thinking. I was thinking about how I would have to run my last 800 about as fast as my first 800 to beat sixteen. This seemed almost impossible. I wasn't sure if I could do it. But then I thought to myself, I'm already two miles in and I'm going to have to do it sometime. And I wanted it. I wanted to beat sixteen so badly. So I was going to do everything possible to make it to the line in under sixteen minutes. I was going to do everything I could.
I took off after the two mile marker. I didn't think about how long I had to go, or how fast I had to go. I just thought about breaking sixteen. I was sprinting with all I had left when the girl I had been running with during the rest of the race caught up to me. We were about 600m before the line and sprinting with everthing we had. But it was then I realized that we weren't really racing each other. I actually didn't really care if she beat me, as long as I beat the clock. And because this was the 16:00.07 girl, I have to say that she might've felt the same way.
I was slightly ahead of her when we entered the finishing loop. Some guy cheered for me and then told me that I was in 8th place. As I heard the cheering for the winners, I realized that I was going to have my first top ten finish in a varsity cross country race. But I really didn't care about that. I cared about my time. Sixteen, sixteen.
I entered the finishing straight with one lone girl ahead of me. I did not think about beating her when I passed her. I thought about the clock. And how much I wanted it. So when my legs screamed at me to stop and my tired body told me to slow down, I just told myself that it was only for a little bit longer. And I reminded myself what this meant to me, how long I had worked towards breaking that barrier. When my dad shouted out "15:29, you have to go faster" or something like that, I went faster. I wasn't sure where the people were behind me. I wasn't sure if I would make it. But I gave everything. Absolutely everything. And I crossed the finish line to see those beautiful numbers on my watch. 15:54. As in fifteen minutes. As in, I had just broken sixteen minutes. I looked down at my watch a couple of seconds later to make sure that I hadn't seen it wrong. I didn't want it to be really close to sixteen, where my official time could be different and over sixteen. But when I looked down at my watch again, it said 15:57. I had done it. I broke sixteen.
I had a huge smile on my face as I marched through the chute and tore the tag of my number one. I wanted to scream and shout and tell everyone what I had just done. Instead, I kept on smiling. The winner of the race, whose name is spoken with admiration on our team, congratulated me. I stayed and congratulated my own teammates as they came out of the chute. I told JS about what I had just done and she gave me a high five. My coach came over to me and told me that I looked strong, relaxed, and in control during my race. He then asked what my time was and I told him it was under sixteen minutes. And then I walked back to camp with a smile on my face.
"I think I did it" was what I said to my parents when I walked towards them. They knew what I had been trying to do. My teammates all congratulated me afterwards. I then changed into my shoes and went with AK to do my cooldown. We only ran and walked about a mile. My legs felt like they could keep going though and I was going pretty fast. I was so excited, I wanted to keep on running.
There was popsicles waiting for us at camp when we got back. I waited to have one until my coach came over to me and told me my official time. 15:55. Fifteen minutes and fifty five seconds. A lot of fives but no sixes. I had officially broken sixteen minutes. And in the process of doing so, I took 7th place overall and received a ribbon. My team had taken fourth, finally beating the rich, parochial kids with the nice cars (as my coach called them) from down the street.
I wanted to break sixteen minutes. I wanted it so much, that I ran the last 800 faster than the first 800. When I looked down at my watch, to see 15:54, it was worth it. And that is why I run those long miles in the summer and winter. For that feeling. That feeling of accomplishment, achievement, and happiness. Knowing that I did it. Knowing that I had finally broke sixteen.
Thursday, September 17, 2009
XC RACE REPORT: JUST RUN. DON'T FALL.
In honor of Jens Voigt, I gave a tribute at my cross country meet. It is his 38th birthday afterall (although I did think it was the 19th until I double checked) but apparently my body knew it and felt it had to honor him in some way. I didn't have an epic run, I didn't break 16, I didn't feel amazing, although I might've had my mask of pain on. There are so many ways that I could've honored him in my race so I could've chose a different one. But I didn't. Instead, I fell. As in faceplant on the ground. During my race. It wasn't as bad as Jens' crash in the Tour this year, but it was incredibly embarrassing.
We left for the meet 15 minutes late, at 2:45 because two stupid freshmen forgot to leave early. I'm not sure how, because I always glanced at the clock every five minutes until I could leave. I had to make sure to eat a lot on the hour bus ride because I did not want to get hungry. I ate granola bars and did math homework until we arrived. To find that the tree we usually camped by had been cut down and that they didn't have free colorful shoelaces.
My teammates and I cheered everyone on until it was time to warmup. One of our fresh/soph girls won her race which is awesome and puts her back on varsity, which should make her feel good. JS and I warmed up separately because everyone had left while we were waiting in line for the portapotties (the other bathrooms had no doors, who makes girl's restrooms with no doors? the answer would probably have to be guys). It was pretty warm out, in the 70's and sunny. My legs were feeling okay but not great. I kept telling myself to just run though because it's been kind of a hectic week. I didn't run on Monday because I spent the day on a visit to Iowa State. My legs weren't feeling the best on the two days before this meet either. I wanted to ignore that though. I wanted to block everything else out and just run.
We were in the inside box at the starting line. Our team seems to get the end boxes a lot, so it doesn't bother me that much. I tried to get out fast at the start, which is something I've been working on, so I was towards the front. My legs were feeling okay, nothing special was in them. I really wanted to beat 16 though so I kept telling myself to fight every single step. My first mile was in 6:08. Before we get to the first mile mark, we run around a small pond and every year there's people playing music on the drums when we run by. It makes the course a little more fun. The course had been changed a little, so about halfway through we didn't make the extra loop that I thought we did. This threw me off a little but it made it seem shorter. I then ran through a really small, short ditch that made me incredibly tired. I was only halfway through but there was something about that ditch that my legs didn't like. I was slowing down a little bit but I continued to fight.
About 100m later, we ran right next to a row of trees. They were full grown trees with large roots that went onto the course. I was running on the left side, closest to the trees, when I gracefully tripped over a tree root and fell on my face. It seemed to happen really quickly, like all of a sudden I was on the ground. I remember saying something like "oh crap" and then getting back up, hoping nobody from my school saw me, because it was very embarrassing. I had been running ahead of a few girls and they were beside me when I got up. There was about four or five of them and most of them said something to me like "good job" or "keep going" or something. I sprinted ahead, while looking for people from my school and hoping that they didn't see what I had just done. I felt like a total idiot. I was just really surprised because I went down and got up so quickly. I certainly didn't expect to do a faceplant during my race.
I was trying to assess my injuries while catching up to the girls that I had been running with. My palms stung and so did my elbows. My right hip and knee hurt where I had landed on them. I was hoping that I was bleeding anywhere so no one would notice that I had fallen. I didn't want to look though, because that might have discouraged me. My thoughts weren't even on finishing the race anymore, all I could think about was how I had fallen.
I knew that I was going a lot slower towards the end but my legs just didn't have the extra bit of something special. I'm not sure what it was, but I just didn't feel it. I crossed the little ditch for the second time and it exhausted me. I had about a half mile to go and I knew I had to do something. I just kept telling myself to fight every single step, which is what I didn't do at our Saturday meet. My teammates were catching up behind me and my legs were getting tired but I fought every step. And I didn't fall when I went by the trees the second time.
The finish line was downhill and I didn't let anyone pass me. I finished in 16:29, which isn't that good. I can't blame it all on my fall either, because my legs were tired and not feeling it during the race. I finished in 25th place but my teammates were only seconds behind. I congratulated AK and one of the freshman who had finished near me. Another of the freshman was upset because people had passed her in the chute and she didn't know what to do about it. I tried to calm her down while talking with some of my teammates and making sure they hadn't seen me fall. They made me feel a little better while I was waiting for JS to finish. She was the last person on varsity to come and she took off for camp right afterwards. I knew that she was going to cooldown by herself because she was upset so I talked to a few of my other teammates. One of them couldn't stop laughing when I told her that I had tripped but then we all started laughing about it once they kept telling me it was because I was running so fast. I did come to the conclusion though, that none of my teammates, my coach, or my dad had seen me fall. This made me feel a little better but I was kind of upset about my time. I left my mark on the course though, which I had been trying to do.
AK and I began cooling down together. We talked about the race and then we talked about JS. I had just realized that she had ran the 8th fastest time on our team which meant she might not get to run varsity at the next meet. My coach really likes her though and as AK said, it would crush her. And that was when we walked up a hill and saw her sitting by herself on the ground with her arms around her knees and her head down. We stopped for a second and I looked at her, and the course under the setting sun, and the other people cooling down in the distance. It made me feel so sad. This is the part of cross country, of any sport, that you don't see. Where everything doesn't work out. And which some people will never understand.
AK and I began to walk again, trying to figure out what to do. We didn't think she had seen us so we could just keep walking. We had walked past her down the hill where we were getting close to our other teammates, when I turned around and walked back up the hill to sit next to JS. At that moment, I had to stop being her teammate and start being her friend. I knew that I would have wanted someone beside me. AK and I sat next to her for awhile, not saying anything because we didn't know what to say. JS finally told us that she was going to go walk by herself so we went back to camp. We got our subway and got back on the bus for the ride home. AK and I sat in the back and we had a lot of fun talking with some of our teammates. We seemed to talk about everything except the race.
I'm not sure what to think about this race. My legs felt like they were missing something and then I gracefully fell on my face. My right knee has some scrapes on it, and my left knee and right arm have some bruises. I kind of like my battle wounds in a way. They remind me of the time during spring break, earlier this year, when I scraped up my right leg when I tripped while running by myself. They're just another part of running. What worried me a little more was my legs. They were just missing something. My attitude during the race did become a lot better, in the way I kept fighting. This race was certainly a different one though and it leaves me a another goal. To not fall.
We left for the meet 15 minutes late, at 2:45 because two stupid freshmen forgot to leave early. I'm not sure how, because I always glanced at the clock every five minutes until I could leave. I had to make sure to eat a lot on the hour bus ride because I did not want to get hungry. I ate granola bars and did math homework until we arrived. To find that the tree we usually camped by had been cut down and that they didn't have free colorful shoelaces.
My teammates and I cheered everyone on until it was time to warmup. One of our fresh/soph girls won her race which is awesome and puts her back on varsity, which should make her feel good. JS and I warmed up separately because everyone had left while we were waiting in line for the portapotties (the other bathrooms had no doors, who makes girl's restrooms with no doors? the answer would probably have to be guys). It was pretty warm out, in the 70's and sunny. My legs were feeling okay but not great. I kept telling myself to just run though because it's been kind of a hectic week. I didn't run on Monday because I spent the day on a visit to Iowa State. My legs weren't feeling the best on the two days before this meet either. I wanted to ignore that though. I wanted to block everything else out and just run.
We were in the inside box at the starting line. Our team seems to get the end boxes a lot, so it doesn't bother me that much. I tried to get out fast at the start, which is something I've been working on, so I was towards the front. My legs were feeling okay, nothing special was in them. I really wanted to beat 16 though so I kept telling myself to fight every single step. My first mile was in 6:08. Before we get to the first mile mark, we run around a small pond and every year there's people playing music on the drums when we run by. It makes the course a little more fun. The course had been changed a little, so about halfway through we didn't make the extra loop that I thought we did. This threw me off a little but it made it seem shorter. I then ran through a really small, short ditch that made me incredibly tired. I was only halfway through but there was something about that ditch that my legs didn't like. I was slowing down a little bit but I continued to fight.
About 100m later, we ran right next to a row of trees. They were full grown trees with large roots that went onto the course. I was running on the left side, closest to the trees, when I gracefully tripped over a tree root and fell on my face. It seemed to happen really quickly, like all of a sudden I was on the ground. I remember saying something like "oh crap" and then getting back up, hoping nobody from my school saw me, because it was very embarrassing. I had been running ahead of a few girls and they were beside me when I got up. There was about four or five of them and most of them said something to me like "good job" or "keep going" or something. I sprinted ahead, while looking for people from my school and hoping that they didn't see what I had just done. I felt like a total idiot. I was just really surprised because I went down and got up so quickly. I certainly didn't expect to do a faceplant during my race.
I was trying to assess my injuries while catching up to the girls that I had been running with. My palms stung and so did my elbows. My right hip and knee hurt where I had landed on them. I was hoping that I was bleeding anywhere so no one would notice that I had fallen. I didn't want to look though, because that might have discouraged me. My thoughts weren't even on finishing the race anymore, all I could think about was how I had fallen.
I knew that I was going a lot slower towards the end but my legs just didn't have the extra bit of something special. I'm not sure what it was, but I just didn't feel it. I crossed the little ditch for the second time and it exhausted me. I had about a half mile to go and I knew I had to do something. I just kept telling myself to fight every single step, which is what I didn't do at our Saturday meet. My teammates were catching up behind me and my legs were getting tired but I fought every step. And I didn't fall when I went by the trees the second time.
The finish line was downhill and I didn't let anyone pass me. I finished in 16:29, which isn't that good. I can't blame it all on my fall either, because my legs were tired and not feeling it during the race. I finished in 25th place but my teammates were only seconds behind. I congratulated AK and one of the freshman who had finished near me. Another of the freshman was upset because people had passed her in the chute and she didn't know what to do about it. I tried to calm her down while talking with some of my teammates and making sure they hadn't seen me fall. They made me feel a little better while I was waiting for JS to finish. She was the last person on varsity to come and she took off for camp right afterwards. I knew that she was going to cooldown by herself because she was upset so I talked to a few of my other teammates. One of them couldn't stop laughing when I told her that I had tripped but then we all started laughing about it once they kept telling me it was because I was running so fast. I did come to the conclusion though, that none of my teammates, my coach, or my dad had seen me fall. This made me feel a little better but I was kind of upset about my time. I left my mark on the course though, which I had been trying to do.
AK and I began cooling down together. We talked about the race and then we talked about JS. I had just realized that she had ran the 8th fastest time on our team which meant she might not get to run varsity at the next meet. My coach really likes her though and as AK said, it would crush her. And that was when we walked up a hill and saw her sitting by herself on the ground with her arms around her knees and her head down. We stopped for a second and I looked at her, and the course under the setting sun, and the other people cooling down in the distance. It made me feel so sad. This is the part of cross country, of any sport, that you don't see. Where everything doesn't work out. And which some people will never understand.
AK and I began to walk again, trying to figure out what to do. We didn't think she had seen us so we could just keep walking. We had walked past her down the hill where we were getting close to our other teammates, when I turned around and walked back up the hill to sit next to JS. At that moment, I had to stop being her teammate and start being her friend. I knew that I would have wanted someone beside me. AK and I sat next to her for awhile, not saying anything because we didn't know what to say. JS finally told us that she was going to go walk by herself so we went back to camp. We got our subway and got back on the bus for the ride home. AK and I sat in the back and we had a lot of fun talking with some of our teammates. We seemed to talk about everything except the race.
I'm not sure what to think about this race. My legs felt like they were missing something and then I gracefully fell on my face. My right knee has some scrapes on it, and my left knee and right arm have some bruises. I kind of like my battle wounds in a way. They remind me of the time during spring break, earlier this year, when I scraped up my right leg when I tripped while running by myself. They're just another part of running. What worried me a little more was my legs. They were just missing something. My attitude during the race did become a lot better, in the way I kept fighting. This race was certainly a different one though and it leaves me a another goal. To not fall.
Saturday, September 12, 2009
XC RACE REPORT: GETTING CLOSER
"Life is not having and getting, but being and becoming." ~Matthew Arnold
The goal of this meet was to break 16:00. It was my home course and my legs felt good. It was only 75 degrees and one of my friends was coming to watch us. Everything seemed to be working right, I felt like I could actually break 16:00. But I didn't.
I was supposed to run at 6:15 so I had a couple of hours to wait after school. I cannot do homework before a meet, except if it involves math, so the wait was spent staring at the wall and thinking about my meet. Not the most productive use of time but I just can't concentrate on homework.
My mom dropped me off at the course because there's usually nowhere to park. We picked up my senior photo proofs before hand but I still arrived a little early at 4:45. I had to walk aways before I got to our camp which was where my coach and the guy's coach had parked their trucks in the grass, right next to the course. While I was walking there, I could see all of the colorful tents amongst the trees and surrounded by people. It was a sight that could only happen in cross country, but one I have seen many times before. It is sometimes these little moments that make me begin to miss cross country, even more than I already do.
There was four of us on varsity who started warming up at 5:05, which was earlier than ususal. I know every bit of this course so I didn't need to worry about where we were going. I know where the low tree branches are and where geese gather by the pond. This course is so full of memories but I was ready to make a new one. My legs were even feeling so much better than Saturday's meet, which was good because I intended to redeem myself at this meet.
As I stood on the starting line, waiting for the gun to go off, I was actually excited. I wanted to race. That moment is usually full of panic and doubts but for some reason I was confident in myself. I could look at the line of people stretching along both sides of where the course began and believe that I could do this.
The gun went off and the race began. The course is ideal for spectating because it begins with two loops similar to a track, in which people can run between. There is always people lined up along the straightaways in these loops screaming and yelling. It's hard to hear what anyone is saying but it's awesome anyways. It makes it feel like the race matters. It gets better when the course crosses a bridge and goes up a slight hill before turning the corner. People line up all the way from the bridge to the top of the hill and they're all cheering. It reminds me of the mountains in the Tour. Only without the flags and the costumes.
I finished the first mile in 6:04. I felt like I started out a little too fast but I was keeping up with a girl from another team that I had wanted to run with. My legs were still feeling pretty good but the next part of the course is the biggest challenge. For about half a mile, the course winds through a flat part and then up and down a slight hill before heading through trees and crossing back over the bridge. There's really nothing difficult about the makeup of the course, it's the fact that there is no one there. There is no one cheering or yelling at you to go faster. There is no one telling you what to do. You have to make the decision to go faster, without anyone influencing you. This is the realest part of cross country, when the only sounds are of feet pounding and people breathing hard. This is where the race becomes mental, when you decide how much you want it.
I was halfway through this part, just before the hill, when I realized that I had been telling myself to slow down because my legs hurt. I then told myself that duh, of course my legs hurt, because this was a race. The girl that I wanted to run with was a couple of steps in front of me but I began closing down the small gap. I knew that this part of the course was where each person made the decision of how much they wanted it. I decided that I wanted it, I wanted to break 16:00. So I ran faster.
After crossing back over the bridge, I had caught back up with the girl as people lined the course again. We ran side by side for awhile. In a way, we were both helping ourselves and the other person at the same time. Without her, I might not have ran as fast but I was also pushing her to keep going.
During this time, my coach was getting pretty excited. Instead of saying good job or keep up with those girls or something similar, he had changed his yelling. He was saying "come on kid, you're doing great". He kept calling me kid instead of my name. It was a little weird but I kind of liked it because it made me feel like I had moved up in my status ranking. Like he was believing in me even more.
After two miles, the girl had moved a little in front of me and another girl was right beside me. The three of us ran the rest of the race together. The two other girls had moved ahead of me and they stayed that way through the last straightaway. I told myself that even if I could beat them to the finish line, I would make sure no one else would pass me before the finish line. I kept that promise as I crossed the line. In over 16 minutes.
I received a yellow ribbon for 27th place out of 126 girls. As I got out of the chute, it seemed like everyone else had people to greet them except me. I stood there waiting to congratulate my teammates. Four of the girls had come in close together but they left to go back to our camp right away. I waited for JS to leave the chute because I knew that she really wanted to do well in this race. And I knew that she didn't do as well as she had wanted. I walked back to camp behind her and I couldn't think of who we were missing. It turns out the our 7th member had a really bad race and came in at over 18:00. I felt bad for her because my coach said she couldn't run varsity during the next race, even though he probably knew that it was just one bad race. He did take the top seven times though, so I guess that is fair.
I did not break 16:00 in this race. I finished in 16:05. I was probably happier than the girl I had ran most of the race with though, because she had finished in 16:00.07. I actually feel bad for her and I hope she breaks the barrier soon, as I hope to do. The race did go okay for me though. I might not have gotten the time I really wanted, but I was 61 seconds faster than Saturday. I showed everyone that it was just a bad race at that meet. I was ready to run fast again and my coach was proud of how I did. I do think that I could have handled the mental aspect of the race a little better, especially when there was no one around to cheer, but I am proud of how I did. The race made me feel a lot better because I showed myself that I was ready to race again.
The goal of this meet was to break 16:00. It was my home course and my legs felt good. It was only 75 degrees and one of my friends was coming to watch us. Everything seemed to be working right, I felt like I could actually break 16:00. But I didn't.
I was supposed to run at 6:15 so I had a couple of hours to wait after school. I cannot do homework before a meet, except if it involves math, so the wait was spent staring at the wall and thinking about my meet. Not the most productive use of time but I just can't concentrate on homework.
My mom dropped me off at the course because there's usually nowhere to park. We picked up my senior photo proofs before hand but I still arrived a little early at 4:45. I had to walk aways before I got to our camp which was where my coach and the guy's coach had parked their trucks in the grass, right next to the course. While I was walking there, I could see all of the colorful tents amongst the trees and surrounded by people. It was a sight that could only happen in cross country, but one I have seen many times before. It is sometimes these little moments that make me begin to miss cross country, even more than I already do.
There was four of us on varsity who started warming up at 5:05, which was earlier than ususal. I know every bit of this course so I didn't need to worry about where we were going. I know where the low tree branches are and where geese gather by the pond. This course is so full of memories but I was ready to make a new one. My legs were even feeling so much better than Saturday's meet, which was good because I intended to redeem myself at this meet.
As I stood on the starting line, waiting for the gun to go off, I was actually excited. I wanted to race. That moment is usually full of panic and doubts but for some reason I was confident in myself. I could look at the line of people stretching along both sides of where the course began and believe that I could do this.
The gun went off and the race began. The course is ideal for spectating because it begins with two loops similar to a track, in which people can run between. There is always people lined up along the straightaways in these loops screaming and yelling. It's hard to hear what anyone is saying but it's awesome anyways. It makes it feel like the race matters. It gets better when the course crosses a bridge and goes up a slight hill before turning the corner. People line up all the way from the bridge to the top of the hill and they're all cheering. It reminds me of the mountains in the Tour. Only without the flags and the costumes.
I finished the first mile in 6:04. I felt like I started out a little too fast but I was keeping up with a girl from another team that I had wanted to run with. My legs were still feeling pretty good but the next part of the course is the biggest challenge. For about half a mile, the course winds through a flat part and then up and down a slight hill before heading through trees and crossing back over the bridge. There's really nothing difficult about the makeup of the course, it's the fact that there is no one there. There is no one cheering or yelling at you to go faster. There is no one telling you what to do. You have to make the decision to go faster, without anyone influencing you. This is the realest part of cross country, when the only sounds are of feet pounding and people breathing hard. This is where the race becomes mental, when you decide how much you want it.
I was halfway through this part, just before the hill, when I realized that I had been telling myself to slow down because my legs hurt. I then told myself that duh, of course my legs hurt, because this was a race. The girl that I wanted to run with was a couple of steps in front of me but I began closing down the small gap. I knew that this part of the course was where each person made the decision of how much they wanted it. I decided that I wanted it, I wanted to break 16:00. So I ran faster.
After crossing back over the bridge, I had caught back up with the girl as people lined the course again. We ran side by side for awhile. In a way, we were both helping ourselves and the other person at the same time. Without her, I might not have ran as fast but I was also pushing her to keep going.
During this time, my coach was getting pretty excited. Instead of saying good job or keep up with those girls or something similar, he had changed his yelling. He was saying "come on kid, you're doing great". He kept calling me kid instead of my name. It was a little weird but I kind of liked it because it made me feel like I had moved up in my status ranking. Like he was believing in me even more.
After two miles, the girl had moved a little in front of me and another girl was right beside me. The three of us ran the rest of the race together. The two other girls had moved ahead of me and they stayed that way through the last straightaway. I told myself that even if I could beat them to the finish line, I would make sure no one else would pass me before the finish line. I kept that promise as I crossed the line. In over 16 minutes.
I received a yellow ribbon for 27th place out of 126 girls. As I got out of the chute, it seemed like everyone else had people to greet them except me. I stood there waiting to congratulate my teammates. Four of the girls had come in close together but they left to go back to our camp right away. I waited for JS to leave the chute because I knew that she really wanted to do well in this race. And I knew that she didn't do as well as she had wanted. I walked back to camp behind her and I couldn't think of who we were missing. It turns out the our 7th member had a really bad race and came in at over 18:00. I felt bad for her because my coach said she couldn't run varsity during the next race, even though he probably knew that it was just one bad race. He did take the top seven times though, so I guess that is fair.
I did not break 16:00 in this race. I finished in 16:05. I was probably happier than the girl I had ran most of the race with though, because she had finished in 16:00.07. I actually feel bad for her and I hope she breaks the barrier soon, as I hope to do. The race did go okay for me though. I might not have gotten the time I really wanted, but I was 61 seconds faster than Saturday. I showed everyone that it was just a bad race at that meet. I was ready to run fast again and my coach was proud of how I did. I do think that I could have handled the mental aspect of the race a little better, especially when there was no one around to cheer, but I am proud of how I did. The race made me feel a lot better because I showed myself that I was ready to race again.
Thursday, September 10, 2009
BELIEVE
On Monday, we ran hard and fast at practice. I gained a lot of my confidence back. We did 5 800's with 200m running rest in between. I finished 200m ahead of the people behind me and lapped almost everybody not on varsity. I wanted to show everyone that I can run fast. So I did.
My coach later asked me about Saturday's meet when I was done. We agreed that it was just a bad day. The most important thing he said was that he wasn't scared. He believes in me. And now I'm starting to do the same.
My coach later asked me about Saturday's meet when I was done. We agreed that it was just a bad day. The most important thing he said was that he wasn't scared. He believes in me. And now I'm starting to do the same.
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
JENS IS BACK!!
And he is in Missouri. Which means on Saturday, he will be about four hours away from me. So close, yet so far away. Also in that bordering state are big George, Cav, and Thor Hushovd. And they will get as close as four hours. So, so close. At least Jens Voigt is riding again. And is back to himself.
Saturday, September 5, 2009
XC RACE REPORT: THE OTHER SIDE
"If I could just see you
Everything would be alright"
~"Storm" by Lifehouse
"The sweat and tears
You can channel all of your fears
Open your eyes, your eyes
Indeed it will be alright"
~"Dreamer" by Chris Brown
As much as I don't want to write about this race, I will. Because it's not only the good that makes up cross country, it's also the bad. But before I write about this, I want to say that I'm not really angry or sad. I'm disappointed.
Our team was supposed to meet at school at 7:45 this morning to travel to a meet two hours away. I woke up at 6:30 feeling a little tired. I went to a football game last night which might not have been the best idea but I still got some sleep. Plus, even though my legs were tired and sore from our meet on Tuesday, I had been trying to run a little easier, at least when warming up and cooling down.I wasn't sure how my legs would feel after the meet and a week of practices but they didn't feel that bad this morning.
My friend JS was the last one to arrive for the bus (and it was a charter bus, how awesome) so we were the last ones to get on. We somehow seem to always be the last ones on for some reason, so we had to sit behind our coach and the guy's coach. The bus ride was a little long but fun. I ate snacks until 9:45 because our coach told us we were going to run at 12:00. I didn't want to get hungry during my race but I didn't want to eat too close to the race.
We arrived in the parking lot at around 10:00. Then we had to walk practically half the course just to get to the starting line. Our coach had told us that the course was flat and that we'd have some good times here but from what we walked, it was pretty hilly. The guy's college race was just beginning when we got to the starting line and set up camp. There was lots of people everywhere because there was so many different teams. A lot of small teams were there but there was also some large, pretty good teams.
At around 10:45, the varsity team discovered that we were not running at 12:00. That is when JV ran, we were running at 12:30 but our coach had told us the wrong time. I was okay with this since I was beginning to not want to do this meet. I just wasn't feeling it. When my coach called the rest of varsity over and told them to run together it made me feel a little more confident because he said that I would be ahead of them.
JS and I started walking the course (which was basically all uphill or downhill) backwards so she could loosen up her legs and we could figure out where we were going. We didn't make it back in time to warmup with the others so we did a little running on our own. Except we ended up at the finish line (uphill). When we had started at the finish line. Which created a little bit of a problem. By that time though, it was getting warm out and closer to our race. We began at the starting line (uphill) and ran a little more until we found out where the course went. Then we stretched for a bit until we found out the meet was running behind. As in the JV girls started at 12:24 and not 12:00. As in, we weren't started at 12:30 either. Which was also okay with me, because I really wasn't feeling it, I wasn't very excited.
We were doing strides at the starting line when my coach came over. He told us, among other things, that the race really started at the top of a long, gradual hill, which was about a mile in. And then he told us to have fun. So I stood at the line and took off when the gun was shot off. I ran up the uphill start and then down the downhill. I made my way near the front with girls that I had finished with at our first meet. Even though my legs didn't want to. They were telling me that I wouldn't be able to keep up this pace. But I didn't listen, because that's part of cross country. Telling your body to shut up and do what you tell it, as Jens Voigt would say.
I made it to the top of the hill, were my coach said the race actually started, in a 6:22 mile. It was a harder hill then it seemed and it was only one of the first of many. And I was tired. My legs were so tired. I had 1.5 miles to go and I was beginning to hit the wall.
There was not many points during the race that really stood out for me. I was just slowly, slowing down. I knew I was too. But it was like I couldn't do anything about it. My legs couldn't go, they didn't have enough energy. And so, as people passed me (and many did) I let them go because I was just going to run my own steady pace. And I was beginning not to care. I just wanted to get this over with. All the while I was slowing down.
There was a steep hill on the course that was not really necessary and very mean. It was towards the middle/end and I knew it was coming up. The little hills were really tiring me out so I wasn't sure how I would get up this hill. I knew it was coming and when I saw it, I knew that I had to get up it somehow and that it didn't matter if I had good form or not, I was getting up it as fast as I could and then moving on. I made it over the hill but I was still getting slower. And I knew my teammates were closing in behind. But I was caring less and less. I didn't even care when my coach was yelling at me that I needed to start something right now. Because I had nothing left.
Somehow, I made it to where the flags began, about 400-600m before the finish line. I'm not even sure how I really got there but I did. Coaches were yelling all over the place for kids to move up. And I let them pass me. I just didn't have anything in my legs to go with them, I hadn't since the first mile. I was just so tired.
When my first teammate passed me, I was prepared. Kind off. I knew that I had been slowing down a lot but I wasn't sure exactly how much because I didn't want to look at my watch and be discouraged anymore. Usually, when my teammates come near me, I try to go with them and at least keep up with them for awhile, putting up some kind of fight. I let her go by. I let the next one go by. I didn't begin sprinting because my legs were screaming no at me. But when we turned the corner and the finish line was about 200m away, I knew I had to do something. I knew that I had at least two teammates right behind me and I wasn't going to let any more of them beat me. So I took everything I had left and ran, not letting anyone else pass me before the line. That wonderful line that told me I could rest even if I did run 17:06, almost a minute slower than the first meet. My calves cramped up because I was racing in my spikes but it still felt good. At least my legs felt better. But I didn't. Because I didn't do what I was supposed to do, what I had to do.
By the time I had gotten out of the chute, I was very upset. I wanted to lay down on the grass and cry. But I didn't. I got water for JS, who was about to fall over, and myself. I congratulated all my teammates, those who passed me, and those I had managed to keep ahead of. I played the good team member but it was hard. I smiled and told everyone they did a good job. But I was so disappointed in myself. So disappointed. But I sat there and drank my water. And watched my coach walk around and congratulate everyone on the team except me. He didn't talk to me. Part of me knew that I deserved it, that I didn't earn it. The other part of me just wanted him to say something, anything because I had really done what I could during the race. But of course he didn't. He didn't say anything.
JS and I walked around part of the course together as our cooldown. I was glad to get away from the team because I was upset with myself. And JS would know that and she would understand because she's be dealing with running problems of her own. She listened to me while I found the words to say that my legs just didn't have the energy to run. She listened to me and basically told me that it was okay. And then we made up our own excuses, even though I don't like excuses, even though I had told myself earlier that there was going to be no excuses, because I needed something to tell my family, to tell others. But I couldn't tell them to myself. I know the result of the race is mine, whether bad or good.
I went home with my family so I didn't have to face a two hour bus ride with a coach who didn't talk to me. Or a team that did pretty good. I'm not sure I could've been the good teammate for two hours after the meet. As I rode home though, my iPod seemed to know how I felt. It was playing just the songs I needed. On the TV, later today, was just the movie I needed. One of my favorites, the Sound of Music.
I'm still disappointed in myself though. Because, as I tell myself over and over, there are no excuses. If my legs were tired and sore after our first meet, then I could've taken it easy at practice. I could've done more, or rather less, during the workouts. I didn't have to be so competitive at practice. But I really wanted to do something really good at the meet. Instead, I'm a little mad and a little sad. Partly because I let my teammates beat me, partly because I let other teams beat me, partly because of my time. But mostly I am disappointed because I didn't do what I was supposed to. I let my family down, my teammates, my coach, and most of all, I let myself down.
Everything would be alright"
~"Storm" by Lifehouse
"The sweat and tears
You can channel all of your fears
Open your eyes, your eyes
Indeed it will be alright"
~"Dreamer" by Chris Brown
As much as I don't want to write about this race, I will. Because it's not only the good that makes up cross country, it's also the bad. But before I write about this, I want to say that I'm not really angry or sad. I'm disappointed.
Our team was supposed to meet at school at 7:45 this morning to travel to a meet two hours away. I woke up at 6:30 feeling a little tired. I went to a football game last night which might not have been the best idea but I still got some sleep. Plus, even though my legs were tired and sore from our meet on Tuesday, I had been trying to run a little easier, at least when warming up and cooling down.I wasn't sure how my legs would feel after the meet and a week of practices but they didn't feel that bad this morning.
My friend JS was the last one to arrive for the bus (and it was a charter bus, how awesome) so we were the last ones to get on. We somehow seem to always be the last ones on for some reason, so we had to sit behind our coach and the guy's coach. The bus ride was a little long but fun. I ate snacks until 9:45 because our coach told us we were going to run at 12:00. I didn't want to get hungry during my race but I didn't want to eat too close to the race.
We arrived in the parking lot at around 10:00. Then we had to walk practically half the course just to get to the starting line. Our coach had told us that the course was flat and that we'd have some good times here but from what we walked, it was pretty hilly. The guy's college race was just beginning when we got to the starting line and set up camp. There was lots of people everywhere because there was so many different teams. A lot of small teams were there but there was also some large, pretty good teams.
At around 10:45, the varsity team discovered that we were not running at 12:00. That is when JV ran, we were running at 12:30 but our coach had told us the wrong time. I was okay with this since I was beginning to not want to do this meet. I just wasn't feeling it. When my coach called the rest of varsity over and told them to run together it made me feel a little more confident because he said that I would be ahead of them.
JS and I started walking the course (which was basically all uphill or downhill) backwards so she could loosen up her legs and we could figure out where we were going. We didn't make it back in time to warmup with the others so we did a little running on our own. Except we ended up at the finish line (uphill). When we had started at the finish line. Which created a little bit of a problem. By that time though, it was getting warm out and closer to our race. We began at the starting line (uphill) and ran a little more until we found out where the course went. Then we stretched for a bit until we found out the meet was running behind. As in the JV girls started at 12:24 and not 12:00. As in, we weren't started at 12:30 either. Which was also okay with me, because I really wasn't feeling it, I wasn't very excited.
We were doing strides at the starting line when my coach came over. He told us, among other things, that the race really started at the top of a long, gradual hill, which was about a mile in. And then he told us to have fun. So I stood at the line and took off when the gun was shot off. I ran up the uphill start and then down the downhill. I made my way near the front with girls that I had finished with at our first meet. Even though my legs didn't want to. They were telling me that I wouldn't be able to keep up this pace. But I didn't listen, because that's part of cross country. Telling your body to shut up and do what you tell it, as Jens Voigt would say.
I made it to the top of the hill, were my coach said the race actually started, in a 6:22 mile. It was a harder hill then it seemed and it was only one of the first of many. And I was tired. My legs were so tired. I had 1.5 miles to go and I was beginning to hit the wall.
There was not many points during the race that really stood out for me. I was just slowly, slowing down. I knew I was too. But it was like I couldn't do anything about it. My legs couldn't go, they didn't have enough energy. And so, as people passed me (and many did) I let them go because I was just going to run my own steady pace. And I was beginning not to care. I just wanted to get this over with. All the while I was slowing down.
There was a steep hill on the course that was not really necessary and very mean. It was towards the middle/end and I knew it was coming up. The little hills were really tiring me out so I wasn't sure how I would get up this hill. I knew it was coming and when I saw it, I knew that I had to get up it somehow and that it didn't matter if I had good form or not, I was getting up it as fast as I could and then moving on. I made it over the hill but I was still getting slower. And I knew my teammates were closing in behind. But I was caring less and less. I didn't even care when my coach was yelling at me that I needed to start something right now. Because I had nothing left.
Somehow, I made it to where the flags began, about 400-600m before the finish line. I'm not even sure how I really got there but I did. Coaches were yelling all over the place for kids to move up. And I let them pass me. I just didn't have anything in my legs to go with them, I hadn't since the first mile. I was just so tired.
When my first teammate passed me, I was prepared. Kind off. I knew that I had been slowing down a lot but I wasn't sure exactly how much because I didn't want to look at my watch and be discouraged anymore. Usually, when my teammates come near me, I try to go with them and at least keep up with them for awhile, putting up some kind of fight. I let her go by. I let the next one go by. I didn't begin sprinting because my legs were screaming no at me. But when we turned the corner and the finish line was about 200m away, I knew I had to do something. I knew that I had at least two teammates right behind me and I wasn't going to let any more of them beat me. So I took everything I had left and ran, not letting anyone else pass me before the line. That wonderful line that told me I could rest even if I did run 17:06, almost a minute slower than the first meet. My calves cramped up because I was racing in my spikes but it still felt good. At least my legs felt better. But I didn't. Because I didn't do what I was supposed to do, what I had to do.
By the time I had gotten out of the chute, I was very upset. I wanted to lay down on the grass and cry. But I didn't. I got water for JS, who was about to fall over, and myself. I congratulated all my teammates, those who passed me, and those I had managed to keep ahead of. I played the good team member but it was hard. I smiled and told everyone they did a good job. But I was so disappointed in myself. So disappointed. But I sat there and drank my water. And watched my coach walk around and congratulate everyone on the team except me. He didn't talk to me. Part of me knew that I deserved it, that I didn't earn it. The other part of me just wanted him to say something, anything because I had really done what I could during the race. But of course he didn't. He didn't say anything.
JS and I walked around part of the course together as our cooldown. I was glad to get away from the team because I was upset with myself. And JS would know that and she would understand because she's be dealing with running problems of her own. She listened to me while I found the words to say that my legs just didn't have the energy to run. She listened to me and basically told me that it was okay. And then we made up our own excuses, even though I don't like excuses, even though I had told myself earlier that there was going to be no excuses, because I needed something to tell my family, to tell others. But I couldn't tell them to myself. I know the result of the race is mine, whether bad or good.
I went home with my family so I didn't have to face a two hour bus ride with a coach who didn't talk to me. Or a team that did pretty good. I'm not sure I could've been the good teammate for two hours after the meet. As I rode home though, my iPod seemed to know how I felt. It was playing just the songs I needed. On the TV, later today, was just the movie I needed. One of my favorites, the Sound of Music.
I'm still disappointed in myself though. Because, as I tell myself over and over, there are no excuses. If my legs were tired and sore after our first meet, then I could've taken it easy at practice. I could've done more, or rather less, during the workouts. I didn't have to be so competitive at practice. But I really wanted to do something really good at the meet. Instead, I'm a little mad and a little sad. Partly because I let my teammates beat me, partly because I let other teams beat me, partly because of my time. But mostly I am disappointed because I didn't do what I was supposed to. I let my family down, my teammates, my coach, and most of all, I let myself down.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
