The Last Finish Line

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.

thisismyrealife.blogspot.com/search/label/Running

Into the Archives 56-Handshake

My little sis and I have had a "secret" handshake since she was a tiny tot. Today the world can see it recorded from back in 2010 with an extra routine at the end.

Into the Archives 55-Reading

I can't remember why we took this picture. I think it was for some project my mom was doing. In any case, this picture is so incredibly dorky that I had to share it for this week's ITA.

Into the Archives 54-Cliff Dwellings

Today is Ranger Report day at Philmont and I'm missing New Mexico like nothing else. So I'm going back to my very first memory of New Mexico.
Sometime in 2004, we were on a road trip in the southwest and stopped at Bandelier National Monument (at least we are pretty sure that's what it was but it's been so long we're not sure). There, we hiked a short distance to the long-abandoned cave dwellings of the Pueblo people.

I only have wispy memories but I do remember climbing up into the little caves and being in awe that people had actually lived there and imagined what it might have been like had I lived there.

With a quick glance, this canyon almost looks like the scenery you see from the back country camp "Indian Writings" (appropriately enough). I had no idea back then how important this kind of landscape would become to me. The park is just a 3 hour drive from Philmont. *commence nostalgic whimpering*

Into the Archives 53-Baptism

It's been a few days short of 11 years since I was baptized. One of the best decisions I've made but a hard one because the process leading up to it was terrifying. I had a really bad case of stage fright when I was younger so having a spotlight on me in any form petrified me. I knew baptism was important and I wanted to do it but I didn't want anyone to come to watch. I just wanted to get it over with. I honestly don't know what I was afraid of. I wasn't afraid of water, I didn't think I was going to embarrass myself and I wouldn't have to do any talking if I didn't want to and yet anything that involved preparing for that day was very hard. It was a struggle because I wanted a say in how the program would go but whenever I was asked to give my input, I froze up and ran away. Somehow everything was coordinated and the day came.

My birthday happened to fall on a Sunday so I was baptized a few hours after church. I dressed in my little white jumpsuit so I felt like a karate kid as I did a few air drop kicks in the hall while no one was looking. Then people started showing up. I was really hoping everyone would forget to come but apparently pretty much the whole ward decided to show up. Wonderful. I sat there just trying to keep myself calm as my bishop gave a talk and my mom sang a song. Then it was time for the baptism. I stepped into the font. Everyone has horror stories about the water being to hot or cold but this water was perfect. As soon as it was done, a rush of relief swept over me. My mom helped me dry my hair and get dressed in my new white dress. I felt like a princess. I sat through the rest of the program, way more at ease now. The next talk was given after which I was confirmed by my dad. It was done and I felt great.

Into the Archives 52-Snow Creek

Another fun adventure with EJ: Snow Creek. A ski resort...in Missouri. Yes, downhill skiing, hill being the key word. No, we don't have mountains. You know, it's the best we have. But I had a blast. We spent the entire day there, starting with a short lesson on the very basics. The instructor thought we were sisters but we let that slide.

I spent several hours getting used to the bunny hill, then I braved the next biggest hill. I went down several times until I lost control and was sent flying, one of my skis popping off as I tumbled. I went back to the smaller hill and continued until I was exhausted. I still remember the gasps around me as I lost control again, this time both of my skis snapping off of my boots while I did whatever I could to stay out of the way of oncoming skiers. Although I wasn't hurt, I was a little shaken up and decided to call it a day.

And that was my first and only experience skiing. Yep, being a Midwestern has it's downfalls. Or lack of the down, really.

MoPro 2015

I originally wasn't planning on it, but I decided to go to Mormon Prom this year. My "girly mentor", Meagan, helped me get ready. She went dress shopping with me and did my hair and makeup. I found my dress for $25 at a resale boutique and my mom put some sleeves on it. My mom also made a boutineer (3, actually) for my date, Henry.

 When we were ready, Henry's mom and sister came to take our pictures.

We went to a Venezuelan restaurant, El Porton, for dinner and then went to the dance. It was held in Old Shawnee Town Hall which was a refreshing change form the usual church gym. We didn't stay too late because we had our last track meet the next day but it was an enjoyable evening nonetheless. Sometimes dressing up can be fun. Sometimes.

Into the Archives 51-Mothers Day

In honor of mothers day, here's to all the amazing and yet under appreciated mothers out there. This video is from 1999 (as it so conveniently says on the screen).