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.