I am ashamed of myself. I was a wimp today. I was one of those soft people. I did not run.
It wasn't that cold outside but it was really windy and it was also snowing. I was going to run from school but then I decided there was way too much snow on the sidewalks to do so. I could've gone home and ran on the streets but I didn't. I told myself that this would just be my day off because it was miserable outside. But instead I was really just being lazy.
Whenever I decide not to run because the weather sucks or because of any reason, I feel like I should feel good. But I don't, I just get in an extremely bad mood because I'm mad at myself. Which is what I am right now. I'm mad at myself because I didn't have enough motivation to do what I could have. It's true I didn't have a good day and running outside would only have accomplished mental benefits, not physical benefits with about 12 minute miles, and I've been increasing my mileage for weeks while having a day a week off. But that doesn't mean I can be a wimp. Which is why I am posting this on my blog. Not because I need anyone else to read it, but so I can read it and remember what I am supposed to be doing.
Monday, January 25, 2010
Monday, January 18, 2010
WHEN IT'S COLD OUTSIDE, I RUN
There was an article in last Monday's paper about cold weather running. I thought I would take a look at it even though they might not bring up any new tips I haven't heard. So I'm reading along but it was kind of short and they basically interviewed a lady who said winter running doesn't suck. And then I look at the picture of her and read the caption. She was from Dallas, Texas. I guess I wasn't aware that Texas had a real winter.
It's nothing against the great Lone Star state. I have family there and we've visited. I thought Texas was awesome, but a little warm. But seriously, if you are going to write an article about winter running, Texas is not exactly what you are looking for. I guess the article was written for a Dallas newspaper so maybe it's more the newspaper here that is at fault. But to even write an article like this.
Here in Iowa, we have winter. We had three snow days in December because of a blizzard. That was fun. Over Christmas break, we had that little snowstorm that kept everyone from going anywhere. We didn't get snow days out of that. And for awhile we've been having temperatures that are sometimes in the teens. Last week, we found out that it was supposed to get into the thirties. I know all those people in the south are complaining about their cold weather where it might get below freezing during the night. They should come here, where people are actually excited about temperatures in the thirties. I stepped outside one morning when it was in the high 20's and I told my mom that it felt warm out. Here in Iowa, where we have winter, people enjoy temperatures above freezing. We celebrate them.
In this article, the lady says she loves early morning runs. In places that actually have winter, there are windchills of -30 degrees, so you don't exactly seen many people out. She does say that at first you really don't want to be out there, which is true a lot of the times. But then she gets that crisp morning air which is so much clearer in the winter. When I feel that cold winter wind I hope that it doesn't give me frostbite on my face later on. But on to her tips.
Her first tip is to keep your hands warm with gloves, but mittens on the cold days. I don't wear gloves above 30 degrees. One day I wore double gloves but that was because it was one degree and I was only doing about 3 miles so my hands wouldn't be able to warm up. The day I ran 7.85 miles in 7 degrees, I wore one pair of gloves. My hands did get a little cold but I couldn't really feel my face so I didn't pay attention to that. And these are just cheap knit gloves, no fancy brand name stuff. I like them just fine.
She advises you to have layers to shed. I wear enough clothes so that the first mile is really cold but after that I'm pretty cold. It makes you run faster anyways. She talks about the different shirts you should wear, I have one underarmour like shirt that's incredibly warm and I usually wear that with a tshirt, sometimes a fleece jacket if it's cold. And when I say cold, I mean under 10 degrees at least. Then she talks about tights and she mentions some tights with fleece lining which is pretty cool. Not sure why you would need them in Dallas. I wear double tights a lot, a thick pair over a light pair, and I tuck the thick ones into my shoes so my ankles don't get cold. I've been able to wear one pair of tights though for about the last week which I have very much enjoyed.
Her third tip is to stretch. I don't stretch in the winter. This may not be the best for my legs but stretching becomes procrastinating very easily. Just tell yourself you'll stretch for awhile and then delay your run, and then you have to do a shorter run because it will get dark. Stretching decreases your motivation when it's cold. You just have to make yourself go outside and run.
Most running articles make me mad because they are written for joggers. This one made me mad because the coldest it has been in Dallas is 28 degrees. Here in Iowa, it was 5 degrees. The next day it was one. But 28 degrees is one pair of tights weather. Weather that makes you want to run because you have to enjoy it.
My winter running tips with therefore be as follows:
1. Don't procrastinate. There are many excuses in winter. Don't listen to them.
2. Don't care too much about the times. Last year I could run 9-11 minute miles during the winter. That track season I could easily run 8 minute pace at longer distances. Pay more attention to the miles.
3. Run in the streets. Sidewalks get icy and people don't shovel them. I'm more of a street runner even during the summer but running in tire tracks gets you a lot more traction.
4. Make yourself go out there and run. Force yourself. It doesn't matter if it feels like a chore. It will be worth it.
5. Remember one of my favorite running quotes "There is no bad weather, only soft people."
Some people have to run during actual winter when it's actually cold. Those people are so much stronger than those who think they have winter.
It's nothing against the great Lone Star state. I have family there and we've visited. I thought Texas was awesome, but a little warm. But seriously, if you are going to write an article about winter running, Texas is not exactly what you are looking for. I guess the article was written for a Dallas newspaper so maybe it's more the newspaper here that is at fault. But to even write an article like this.
Here in Iowa, we have winter. We had three snow days in December because of a blizzard. That was fun. Over Christmas break, we had that little snowstorm that kept everyone from going anywhere. We didn't get snow days out of that. And for awhile we've been having temperatures that are sometimes in the teens. Last week, we found out that it was supposed to get into the thirties. I know all those people in the south are complaining about their cold weather where it might get below freezing during the night. They should come here, where people are actually excited about temperatures in the thirties. I stepped outside one morning when it was in the high 20's and I told my mom that it felt warm out. Here in Iowa, where we have winter, people enjoy temperatures above freezing. We celebrate them.
In this article, the lady says she loves early morning runs. In places that actually have winter, there are windchills of -30 degrees, so you don't exactly seen many people out. She does say that at first you really don't want to be out there, which is true a lot of the times. But then she gets that crisp morning air which is so much clearer in the winter. When I feel that cold winter wind I hope that it doesn't give me frostbite on my face later on. But on to her tips.
Her first tip is to keep your hands warm with gloves, but mittens on the cold days. I don't wear gloves above 30 degrees. One day I wore double gloves but that was because it was one degree and I was only doing about 3 miles so my hands wouldn't be able to warm up. The day I ran 7.85 miles in 7 degrees, I wore one pair of gloves. My hands did get a little cold but I couldn't really feel my face so I didn't pay attention to that. And these are just cheap knit gloves, no fancy brand name stuff. I like them just fine.
She advises you to have layers to shed. I wear enough clothes so that the first mile is really cold but after that I'm pretty cold. It makes you run faster anyways. She talks about the different shirts you should wear, I have one underarmour like shirt that's incredibly warm and I usually wear that with a tshirt, sometimes a fleece jacket if it's cold. And when I say cold, I mean under 10 degrees at least. Then she talks about tights and she mentions some tights with fleece lining which is pretty cool. Not sure why you would need them in Dallas. I wear double tights a lot, a thick pair over a light pair, and I tuck the thick ones into my shoes so my ankles don't get cold. I've been able to wear one pair of tights though for about the last week which I have very much enjoyed.
Her third tip is to stretch. I don't stretch in the winter. This may not be the best for my legs but stretching becomes procrastinating very easily. Just tell yourself you'll stretch for awhile and then delay your run, and then you have to do a shorter run because it will get dark. Stretching decreases your motivation when it's cold. You just have to make yourself go outside and run.
Most running articles make me mad because they are written for joggers. This one made me mad because the coldest it has been in Dallas is 28 degrees. Here in Iowa, it was 5 degrees. The next day it was one. But 28 degrees is one pair of tights weather. Weather that makes you want to run because you have to enjoy it.
My winter running tips with therefore be as follows:
1. Don't procrastinate. There are many excuses in winter. Don't listen to them.
2. Don't care too much about the times. Last year I could run 9-11 minute miles during the winter. That track season I could easily run 8 minute pace at longer distances. Pay more attention to the miles.
3. Run in the streets. Sidewalks get icy and people don't shovel them. I'm more of a street runner even during the summer but running in tire tracks gets you a lot more traction.
4. Make yourself go out there and run. Force yourself. It doesn't matter if it feels like a chore. It will be worth it.
5. Remember one of my favorite running quotes "There is no bad weather, only soft people."
Some people have to run during actual winter when it's actually cold. Those people are so much stronger than those who think they have winter.
Sunday, January 10, 2010
MY FAN, THE BUS DRIVER
I run the same route almost everyday. It should become boring but it usually doesn't. I could change it up and add in a couple of different streets, but I often lose my motivation and it makes running seem like a chore when I do so. Because I often run the same places over and over, I start to recognize people. There's the guy who only seems to be outside when he's clearing his driveway because of the snow. He likes to shout at me that I'm crazy. There's a guy who asked me how many miles I do a day and one time a mailman waved at me instead of running me over. It wasn't the creepy mailman either who likes to sit outside houses for 10 minutes doing what looks like nothing.
It seems like when you are running by yourself, it compels people to wave, or honk, or yell at you. A couple of days ago, a seemingly random person waved at me while driving by, although he later turned out to be one of my friends back from college. I've had a kid around my age stand in the street and stare at me (probably because of my knee socks) while getting dropped off. Those same people who dropped him off later drove by me and yelled something. I've had a car full of teenagers yell something at me towards the end of my run, but again, I couldn't understand them. And then there was the furniture store truck that drove by me and honked, completely freaking me out. I actually enjoy when people somehow let me know that they've seen me (most of the time) because it feels like they are cheering me on. But out of all the random people who do this, or all my neighbors who like to talk about seeing me, there is one guy who stands out above them all. And that is my friend, the bus driver.
My basic route is 5.65 miles, although it can be increased by running some parts again. Most of this route is also the bus driver's route. Depending on what time I start at, how fast I run, and how many miles I am doing, I see him at different parts during the week. It's somewhere between 4:15 and 4:35 when I see him because he drives one of the Catholic school buses. Most of the time there's no kids on the bus, and he's just driving it back to drop it off. Whenever I see him though, no matter where along my route I am, he acknowledges me in some way. It started out with just waving, but lately he's been honking at me too. He's always smiling at me and it always feels like he's cheering me on. On the hardest days and in the worst weather, when he honks he seems to say that even if you feel like nobody is watching, that no one cares, and everyone thinks you're crazy, I support you. And so I want to thank my fan, the bus driver, for making me feel like someone who doesn't even know me thinks I can run fast and complete all my miles, even if I don't always feel I can.
It seems like when you are running by yourself, it compels people to wave, or honk, or yell at you. A couple of days ago, a seemingly random person waved at me while driving by, although he later turned out to be one of my friends back from college. I've had a kid around my age stand in the street and stare at me (probably because of my knee socks) while getting dropped off. Those same people who dropped him off later drove by me and yelled something. I've had a car full of teenagers yell something at me towards the end of my run, but again, I couldn't understand them. And then there was the furniture store truck that drove by me and honked, completely freaking me out. I actually enjoy when people somehow let me know that they've seen me (most of the time) because it feels like they are cheering me on. But out of all the random people who do this, or all my neighbors who like to talk about seeing me, there is one guy who stands out above them all. And that is my friend, the bus driver.
My basic route is 5.65 miles, although it can be increased by running some parts again. Most of this route is also the bus driver's route. Depending on what time I start at, how fast I run, and how many miles I am doing, I see him at different parts during the week. It's somewhere between 4:15 and 4:35 when I see him because he drives one of the Catholic school buses. Most of the time there's no kids on the bus, and he's just driving it back to drop it off. Whenever I see him though, no matter where along my route I am, he acknowledges me in some way. It started out with just waving, but lately he's been honking at me too. He's always smiling at me and it always feels like he's cheering me on. On the hardest days and in the worst weather, when he honks he seems to say that even if you feel like nobody is watching, that no one cares, and everyone thinks you're crazy, I support you. And so I want to thank my fan, the bus driver, for making me feel like someone who doesn't even know me thinks I can run fast and complete all my miles, even if I don't always feel I can.
Thursday, December 10, 2009
THAT'S NOT REALLY ME
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.
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.
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.
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