RACE REPORT: FOR THE FIRST TIME

"A dream doesn't become reality through magic; it takes sweat, determination, and hard work." ~Colin Powell

When I trained during the winter, running miles and miles in the cold and snow, I often wondered why I was doing it. As I struggled up icy hills and fought against the freezing wind, I asked myself if anything would make it worth it. Why was I outside when no one else seemed to be? Why did I keep going when it was so hard? Why was I running? Was it worth it?Yesterday, among the hovering clouds and the ever present rain, I found an answer.

My track meet was not looking good. It had been hot all week and because I wasn't used to it, the heat was affecting me more than usual. The workouts had been really tiring me out and I've been barely keeping up with my teammate on most of them. My left quad and shins have been hurting, and I've been icing them without letting my coach know. The four meets in two weeks had really tired me out and I wasn't sure how I would do. About 2/3's of our team weren't coming to the meet because they were either at the Drake Relays (only about five were actually competing) or they just didn't bother to come. I thought the Drake Relays would lessen the competition among the distance events, but because we were only competing against three teams, all the distance runners were there.

While nothing leading up to this meet boded well, the weather looked fantastic. The gray skies constantly threatened to downpour while a steady drizzle fell. The temperature was in the mid 50's and everything was damp. It was a beautiful day to run. At least in my opinion, as the spectators and my teammates seemed to disagree. I couldn't wait to race though, and was beginning to feel a little bit better about how I would do.

My coach had told me I was to run an 800 and the 1500. While I wasn't listed to run an 800, my coach said he'd fit me in somewhere. Because he, the distance coach, was acting as the head coach (who was at Drake), I figured he'd be able to find me an 800. When I asked him before the meet however, he told me that the 1500m was all I would do because he wasn't allowed to move the lineups. Minutes after my coach decided this, he found that the anchor of the distance medley (an 800) wasn't coming and that I would run in her place. Our JV runners were entered in the event and they weren't a fast relay team but that would lessen the pressure on me. I was walking with my teammate JS, who was running the 3000, and was about to warm up, when my coach changed his plans.

Apparently, the 4x800 team was missing a runner. One girl was already scheduled to not attend the meet and another girl just didn't show up. Because the 4x800 relay was better than the distance medley, my coach was switching me with a girl he had chosen to replace the missing runner. The only problem was that he told me this twenty minutes before the race was to begin. I told him I hadn't started warming up yet but all he said was that I better begin.

I crunched my hour to fifty minute warmup into twenty minutes, running two fast laps and doing some quick stretching, only stopping for the national anthem. I was to take the place of the third runner, which gave me some extra time, but I wasn't able to stop at the bathroom or do any strides. All this rushing was giving my some extra adrenaline and I was still able to watch JS place second in the 3000, behind the girl who ran the 3000m at Drake and was running the first leg of the 4x800 for her team.

After half of the race was over, I received the baton in third place, about 10m behind second place. I immediately took off and was right behind the girl after 100m, where my coach was standing. He yelled at me to just hang on to her and only pass her when I knew I could. Being in charge must have done something to my coach, because he was actually shouting advice that made sense. I followed his words and the girl, passing her in front of her teammates with 100m left on the first lap after doing a slingshot move off the corner. I wasn't about to let her do the same to me on the second lap so I was really pushing it. By the time I handed off to our final runner, I had made up a lot of ground on first place although I didn't have a kick in the last 100m.

We placed second in the race, with the gaps about the same as when I handed off. I knew I had ran a fast 800m but I didn't realize how fast it was until my coach walked over with the splits. We had finished with a time of 10:41, with the other's splits being 2:39, 2:42, and 2:45. My split- 2:34, tying my PR which was run last May when my coach told me I had the chance to make it on the varsity 4x800 team and possibly qualify for state. That is also the second fastest 800 ran on the team this season which made me feel pretty good.

My meet was only beginning however, because I still had the 1500m left. Although the meet was going pretty fast, my friends went home while I enjoyed the rain. This kind of disappointed me because I thought I might be able to do well in the 1500. A lack of teammates wasn't going to stop me from doing my best and I wanted to make my coach proud.

It was still drizzling out as my teammate, who was running the JV 1500, and I began warming up for our race. We had began a little earlier than usual because the meet was going quickly. After three laps, we did some stretching and cheered on our team. My coach came over and told me that our team was in last place, three points behind, and I better get some points for our team so we could show the Drake people that we could beat teams without them. The host school was parading their seniors around, which added a lot of unexpected time before our race. The meet went very slowly after this because of various delays, especially in the 200m. We ran an extra lap and did some strides before I put on my spikes and stepped on the track. There was supposed to be lane assignments but they apparently didn't matter. I managed to get into the inside of lane four and then we were off.

I don't like the first 100m of the race because everyone cuts each other off during the sprint. While everyone was fighting each other in the pack, I positioned myself in second place. This surprised me and I worried that I had started out too fast. I knew the girl ahead of me probably did because she was the girl I had passed during the 4x800. Using my race tactics, I let the girl go and concentrated on running my own race. I ran the first lap in 82 seconds, which was, as my coach yelled, where I was supposed to be.

With 2.5 laps to go, a runner from the same team as the girl ahead of me, moved next to me. I matched her stride to stride as we ran in the rain. She seemed to be running strong but I wasn't going to let her get away from me. We were closing the gap on the girl ahead of us and there was no way that I was letting her take the lead. As I passed my coach, who stood at the 1500m starting line, I had dropped the girl by a few seconds and was getting close to first place. My coach just reassured me that I was doing what I was supposed to do.

I was running almost directly behind the lead girl with 1.5 laps to go. That was when I realized that the gun could go off for me. Something I had only dreamed of, the gun might actually go off for me. Tactics didn't concern me as I took off, determined to get to the line before the girl ahead of me.

As I came into the front stretch, there was nobody ahead of me. I was in the lead. Everyone was chasing me. The few people that knew me, that had stayed around to watch, were all screaming my name. A few steps before the line, I watched and smiled as I watched the gun guy lift up his hand. When the gun went off to signal the last lap for the leader, it was going off for me. It was actually going off for me.

When I rounded the curve, I was smiling, not believing what I was doing. I had a race to finish though, and I wasn't about to lose it in the last lap. As I passed my coach at the starting line, where he stood only steps away, he told me that this was where I was so much stronger, this last lap. He wouldn't have had to say anything however, there was no way I was going to let anyone take this race away from me. This was going to be my race.

With 200m to go, I had no idea of how far behind the other girls were. I wasn't about to look back so I only pushed myself harder. I was focused on getting to the line first. When I rounded the curve onto the final stretch, I was by myself. I heard my parents and teammates cheering as I kicked with everything I had left. I sprinted the last 100m in front of the crowd in the rain.

I crossed the line in first place, ahead of every other person running the 1500m. I had won. I won the 1500m. I don't think I have ever won a real race before, there was always a boy or an older runner. Sure, I have beat everybody in the mile at school but in a real race, this was probably the first time that I had ever won. I've thought about it before, what it would be like to come in first, and you know what, it is cool. It is so incredibly awesome.

While I was standing across the finish line, somebody handed me a card with the number one on it and sent me towards a guy holding a clipboard. I glanced at my card, mesmerized by the sight of it. Number one. The clipboard guy was very nice to me and allowed me to catch my breath before I told him my name. When he asked for my card, I relunctantly handed it over. I wanted to keep it, but instead congratulated the other runners who finished behind me. The girl who had run beside me for awhile thanked me for pushing her and I told my teammate she had done a good job, as I watched my coach walk over. We both had smiles on our faces as he high fived me and called me the 1500 meter champion. Those so very wonderful words. Because I had won my race.

They announced the results of the race while we were running a cooldown. I smiled as they said my name, hearing my parents yell and watching my coach cheer. Whenever he saw me, my coach called me the 1500m champion. He also told me that I had ran a "blazing" last lap. I received the congratulations from my teammates who had stayed but I was kind of in shock. I had won my race. It certainly made my coach estastic, he texted an assistant coach about my win who then replied that I was awesome. My coach texted back, "I know".

My name was in the paper today, under the results. The winner of the 1500m. I came in at 5:18, tying my PR and a surprisingly eleven seconds ahead of second place. My time didn't matter though, I had achieved something I had only dreamed of. All of the running I did over the winter, everything I did, it was worth it. I had won. I won my race.

1500
Me (1st)- 5:18
2nd- 5:29
3rd- 5:31

Our team score, that I contributed all of my points to, tied us for third place, out of four teams. It was slightly disappointing but for me, it didn't really matter. I achieved more than what I expected at that rainy track meet.