We're So XC

I’m here to tell you the story of one of my favorite races of high school, and I think it’s a good story for everyone to hear. 

It was spring of my Junior Year, and I was fit as heck. I was one of the top runners in my section and I was climbing the state rankings quickly. We always kick off our outdoor season at a pretty big local invitational, it’s a chance for some of the best teams in our area to show off who they’ve got for the year. I was entered in the 1500, one of my favorite races, and it was the “elite” race of the meet. The top 10 girls in the seeding list would get special recognition before their heat and the top 3 get trophies. It was a BIG deal and a lot of my favorite girls to race were also entered.

When the list of seeds was released on line 2 days before the invitational, I immediately knew something was wrong. I was seeded 13th, when I should have easily been seeded in the top 5. I looked at my seed time and it was 5:02. My Coach had entered me at my 1600(full mile) time instead of my 1500 time which was in the low 4:40′s. This meant I would run in the unseeded heat. My coach realized his mistake and begged and pleaded to try and get my seed time changed but the meet organizers were not budging- I’d have to run in the unseeded heat. 

Instead of becoming discouraged or upset, I simply decided I was going to win from the unseeded. I’d race alone, but I’d do it. Luckily, the elite heat of girls went off about an hour before my heat. The girl won it in 4:46. I went back to the tent and wrote the splits on my hand that I would need to run in order to run a 4:45. I calmly got on the line, and took a deep breath.

The gun went off and it was my race. Within 300 meters I had about a 20 meter lead (I later learned that the kid standing and cheering next to my mom who was not from my school said “This girl either has no idea how to pace a 1500 or is just that fast” and my mom turned around and replied “She’s just that fast, just watch.”) I hit my split for the first and second lap easy, but than it got hard. I was all alone and trying to race all out. The only thing that kept me going was my teammates going INSANE and cheering for me. The rest of the stands actually picked up on what was happening and started in on the cheering.

I kicked harder than I ever have that last lap. I was alone and had about 150 meter gap on the next girl in my heat. I came down the home stretch and crossed the line as the clock ticked 4:44. I had done it, by two seconds. I had won one of the most elite races by running by myself from the unseeded heat. 

i think i get it. i think i am guilty of unknowingly glamorizing running, and i just want to set the record straight here for a minute.

a lot of people see runners and see these people who are happy, overflowing with post-run endorphins, wearing cute running clothes, colourful watches showing mile splits, and professing how much they love to run. you think “i want that kind of happiness. i’m going to be a runner, too!” and so you go out and run. lace up the shoes, throw on the shorts, and head out the door.

and then it’s awful. it hurts, it’s hot, you can’t catch your breath, muscles you didn’t know you had start aching, and a single mile seems impossible let alone 3 or 4. you think “wait, surely i must be doing this wrong. this is the actual worst. i need to go back and check for what i missed. what’s the secret? how do i do this in a way that i enjoy? how do you make yourself run and like it?!”

so here’s the truth: running is hard. sweat stings my eyeballs and makes me want to rub my contacts out. this morning i ran before the sun was up and the humidity was actually 100% and it felt like 94f, so i was soaked before i actually started sweating. i got to the top of a hill and couldn’t even put my hands on my knees when doubled over because they’d slip right off. i think i foam roll my butt more than most humans do any other things. i eat like a puma. sometimes i come home after a 10 mile run and lay on the floor for a solid 20 minutes and couldn’t put a coherent thought together if my life depended on it, but i am content to just be there on the floor, contemplating my own existence in this universe. on most runs, i am convinced any man who looks at me longer than 3 seconds is plotting where to bury my body. the cute watch you see me wear is usually so sweat-soaked i can’t even read it. and even when i can see it, i have to risk taking my eyes away from the trail and sending myself flying into the ditch from tripping over roots or rocks. hey, did you know you can chafe anywhere? yeah. and also, my toenails are black, completely black, from my marathon two months ago. 

i don’t love running in spite of all that. i love running because of all that. i think if it was easy and sugar-coated i’d be bored. i’dve been done with running a loooong time ago. but i never get tired of running - it never stops exciting me. there’s always more to learn, there’s always room to grow. there’s always some challenge to find, to conquer, to push myself toward. that’s what makes me love it. if that’s not what you want out of a hobby, running probably isn’t for you. i get out the door at 5am because i want the pain and i want the struggle and i want the pure, simple joy i get from the trails and my feet on the pavement and the absolute clarity i find in my thoughts. the sheer depth of gratitude i feel, for everything in my life, when i am running is parallel to none. i become my best self through running, through enduring. 

To Running,

This isn’t a thank you letter, not a quick reminisce on what you gave to me. Because I have given so much to you too. This certainly isn’t a break up letter, a parting of ways and a tearful goodbye. I see many miles for us in our future. This is simply just a letter. Sometimes, you just need to write a letter because you have no other place to put your feelings. So here’s to you, running.

You’ve taught me more than I could ever imagine. You’ve taught me to not give up when things get really hard because that normally means great things are coming. You’ve taught  me that when I put my heart into something, I need to put every last piece of my heart. No halfsies, no mostly’s. Running is an everything you got, end on empty kind of sport that doesn’t take no for an answer.

I’ve let you into my being more than I ever have with anything else before. I don’t open up easy, but you wormed your way into the deepest places inside of me to the point where I know this is a life long relationship. This also means that you’ve broken me down like nothing else has. You’ve reduced me to sitting in the shower crying or having to pull the car over on my way home from practice just to control my emotions. There is something so raw inside of me when it comes to running that I just don’t know how to control.

I’ve given so much to you and you, in return, have given so much to me. You’ve given me some of the best memories, some of the best friends, some of the best days. I truly don’t know what I would have done if I didn’t find you. So thanks for everything running, and here’s to the future. 

Your forever companion,