Pain, sheering pain rips at my hamstrings like a lion attacking their prey. “It’s only 5000 meters,” I visualize to myself. “Just finish.” On October 20, 2015 with a slight breeze and 70ºF, it was one of the most important races of the cross country season, the HVL Conference race. Coach gave me high hopes of an All-Conference finish, so I was determined to go out and give it my all. Stretching is key for running, but 10 minutes before the race my right leg felt tingly so I immediately knew something was wrong. My nerves started to kick in and I was already sweating. Throughout the hills and valleys, my leg was wrapped tightly in a blanket of nails. At the finish line I collapsed, but I settled for 7th place with a time of 20:33.2 and I was able to claim an All-Conference spot. Everyone has a certain talent they are destined to be good at. It is up to them if they want to succeed at their talent. Running has impacted my life in a very significant way as have the people I have met along the way. I have had many unforgettable memories with the team and one of these include spaghetti feed bonding. 

Ideally, the salty goodness of spaghetti isn’t the best to eat the day before a race, but the creamy alfredo sauce is too hard to resist. Coach would always remind us of hydrating properly after the team’s feeds. The day of a race I tend to chug water down throughout the day but back off two hours before. A great pick-me-up before a hard workout or race would have have to be peanut butter and bananas stuffed inside whole wheat bread. On the bus rides there, my teammates will find me listening to uplifting music as I envision how the race will all go down. My daydream is interrupted as the bus comes to a halt, and I spot runners with neon spikes stretching. Runners stretch all the way up until the starting gun when they have to get into stance motion.

“Boom!” The sound of the gun signals runners to charge into the course like a pack of wild cheetahs. “Stay on heels, pump arms, sprint up the hill, pass this person…,” I contemplate to myself. Competing in races are really just times for me to clear my mind and focus on what’s right in front of me. There are good days and bad days for every runner. On good days I mentally prepare for what is to come; however, on bad days I often ponder about pointless things. Running is like an addiction and there’s a burning sensation all over that drives me to keep going. As my arms and calves are on fire, my veins pop out like they want to escape. The very first thing I think when there is a huge hill or someone starts to pass me is, “Oh man, this isn’t going to end well.” My mental state sikes me out, making it challenging to finish. A hard earned finish makes every feeling melt away after about an hour.

Towards the last few hills, fluttering blue and red flags can be spotted. Seeing the finish gives me determination to finish, because there is no turning back now. I prefer to convince myself that it’s my destiny to finish and this is what pushes me forward. A tip I remember to do going up hills or if it is the last 400 meters is to transition to the toes from heels and swing my arms like a madman. Sighing relief, adrenaline rushing, and heavy but short breath sounds perch up in clumps of runners. Guzzling water down my dry throat feels so refreshing before I do a cool down run, if I have time. 

I remember that Conference race not because of my plaque. The plaque mattered to me about as much as getting my spikes dirty. This was the first race that I persevered through difficulties I had never experienced before. It was also my first race that season where I felt like a fish out of water but I knew I just needed to finish. Running for me was never about the medals, the ribbons, or the plaques and to me, it never will be. The ability and endurance to end each race is a pretty great ‘medal’ for me.