The beginning of this track season was slightly nerve wracking. This
was my last shot and I had to make it good. I did the preseason indoor track
camp at the JCCC again with the wonderful Coach Chris. He helped me get a
good head start on my seasons training. On the last day I decided to do
a 1600 time trial. Everyone else chose the 800 so I ran alone. Despite
being on an indoor track and having no competition, I made it under
6:30. Not as fast as I wanted but it still gave me hope. I just had a
feeling I'd finally break 6 this year.
Our first meet
of the season was a pretty big one for the team and we had never been to
it before so coach decided to only bring the top runners on the team
(basically the one's who actually trained during the off season and were
in shape) to try it out. It was held mostly at UCM's indoor track but
the two longest races were outside.
My 1600 went pretty well with a time of 6:10. My hope rose. Just a couple more meets and I could get my goal, no problem.
I
was also in the distance medley which was held inside. Our team was put
in the first heat in which we crushed everyone without a problem.
We held our breath as we watched the second heat with the faster
runners. Much to our dismay, we realized that if we had been in that
heat, we could've had some competition and probably at least gotten
third. Unfortunately, we only got 4th. But hey, we still got a metal. A
cool one at that.
Then
came all the other meets. It was mostly a blur with little to remember.
I just felt like I was going through the motions and not really having
much fun. I wanted this 1600 PR so badly but I never seemed to be able
to even break my current PR of 6:04. I came so close but I couldn't seem to
push myself those 5 seconds faster.
At one meet, I felt confident and just KNEW I would do it. I pushed
until everything in my body ached and screamed for me to stop. I had
this. The disappointment as I crossed the line, not even breaking my PR
at all was just too much as I broke down in tears. The temptation to give
up once and for all was so strong. Who did I think I was? Why did I even
care about a silly time?
A
couple times I had a really bad race that neared 6:20. What was I doing
wrong? I kept going but it had gotten to the point that I expected
myself to fail and walked away from each race unsurprised.
Around and around and around the track I went with no luck.
One day I actually broke my PR by a second. But I was too mad to even care.
I
also ran the 800 in most meets but I was so focused on the 1600 that I
really didn't put much into it and ran some pretty embarrassing times.
I
think I ended up PRing at Nationals but didn't even realize it until a
few weeks later when I was going through the results. (I say "I think"
because I didn't keep a great record last year.) It was a fun race to watch even as a participant because our team took 4th-7th places in a sea of blue.
Then there was the 4x800. A very strong team with rarely any competition.
Meet
in and meet out we just kind of jogged it to save our energy for our
bigger races where we'd actually have to compete for points.
Somehow
our team broke the team record when we ended up with a contesting team.
Exciting, but I honestly didn't care or really notice. This wasn't what I was looking for.
Through the continual disappointment, I had great teammates who let me cry on their shoulder and vent my frustration to.
We also ate a lot of food together. Snacks are highly vital as a runner.
Nationals
weekend came. I didn't know what to expect but I wasn't expecting a
whole lot. I didn't go down on Friday night because I wanted to go to
prom so I missed my brothers big 3200 PR. That was disappointing. My coach
had replaced me with another girl in the 4x800 because she had been
running better 800 times all season. I honestly didn't care that much
because I was able to sleep in a little longer that morning.
When
I got there, the heat was already rising. Running well in heat rarely
works for me. I gritted my teeth. I couldn't afford to think that way
today. We spent most of our time hanging out in the student center of
the college we were running at. Staying rested and out of the sun was
wonderful. I ran my first race of the day, the 800, several hours later.
That went surprisingly well which added a drop to my confidence. Then I
went back to the student center and relaxed some more.
The next
event was the 400 which I hadn't raced all year. I went to check myself
into the race as big, angry storm clouds began to roll in. I was getting kind of
excited to try this race out again after a long time when drops of rain
began to drip from the sky. The drip became a drizzle which quickly
became a downpour. The meet came to a halt as everyone scrambled to grab
their things and head for cover. I huddled with some of my friends and
family under the bleachers for what seemed ages. I kicked the gravel
angrily. Is this how my last meet was supposed to end? Why? Why? Why?
Finally
there was a break in the clouds and people began to cautiously come out
of hiding. The meet officials announced that the meet would continue
but all hurdling events would be canceled. Well, there went the
steeplechase which I was looking forward to trying. This also meant the
the meet would be a bit shorter which made me have to make a decision.
Should I scratch the 400 to save my energy for the 1600? I tossed the
options back and forth for awhile. I scouted out my competition and
decided that I really didn't have much of a chance to get points so it
was probably a better idea to save it. I went and scratched myself out of the 400, praying that I had made the right decision. Well, I was down to half as many
events as I had started with. I HAD to make this good.
I lined up
for the 1600 feeling good. I knew what I had to do. Staying with Emily
is what would get me there. "I am totally capable," I told myself. I
rounded the first lap right on pace. Emily began to pull away and I dug
in. I drafted her and pulled myself back to her side when I began falling back. The
third lap is always the hardest part of the race and I knew my legs and
lungs were about to reach their top screaming point. My mom's cheering
and the thought of this being my last race was what got me through that
lap. This had to happen or else I'd never forgive myself. The last lap I
felt like I was flying. I could feel the speed pouring into my legs. I
was side by side with Emily now. One last burst of energy pulled me past
her as I flew down the last straight across the finish line. I glanced
down at my watch and nearly screamed. For the next half hour my face was stuck in a dazed, surprised look and my breathing didn't go back down to normal. I had done it! Barely, but the first digit of the time was a 5 and that's all I cared about.
I left that meet revived and thoroughly happy that I had ended this chapter of my life so well.
The Lions will always be my second family. They make up a powerful team on and off the track. The 6 other Seniors I ran with this year are some amazing people and will be serious forces for good as they go out into the world and make a difference in many more lives.
As for me, I plan to put my serious running on hold for now. But I certainly plan on getting back into it when I start college.
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If you would like to see all of my posts about track and cross country, here is a "playlist", if you will, of all of them.
