Polar Opposites
15-50, the most lopsided score all year. As the last place team running against last year’s State Champions, we knew we were going to lose. The meet resembled David and Goliath except Goliath would most certainly win. We went into every meet knowing we were going to lose, but that was irrelevant, because to us, cross country was more than just the final score.
The bus ride to the Amherst meet was just like any other that season. We were listening to music, talking, and joking about how much we were going to lose by. For so far in my rookie year we had lost every race.
We walked the course before the race, but no one was really paying attention, we were still thinking about last night’s spaghetti supper. Carbo-loading before a meet while playing football and sitting by the fire had long been a tradition for our team. These dinners were what really made cross country more than just a sport, it was a family. Running 3-6 miles a day with each other created a bond like no other, regardless of whether it led to success on the scorecard.
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And we were off; All 13 of our runners and 55 of theirs exploding off the starting line and across the field. I was in front, I always was for about the first 100 yards, then a wave of runners passed me and I settled in to where I was supposed to be. The light rain hit my face and body as I pushed through the 3.1 mile course. Although I had no shot at winning, I hoped my teammates in front of me were giving it all they had, albeit they most likely weren’t doing much better. After settling into a rhythm, I started to battle with a runner near me. Back and forth we went, contending for a spot around 25th place. At this point, our places didn’t really matter, but we pushed each other
With my relay team stretched,warmed up, and ready to go, we headed towards the stadium where we would race against the fastest girls in the nation. Intimidated but not deterred we headed out of Tent City and into the gates of Turner Stadium. Knowing this was my last race I would run with my close friends and relay team, being it 's the last race of the season and we all weren’t going to be in the same age group next year, I had a whole new mind set. I was constantly thinking, “we have to make top ten because we can make top ten.” “We have the times, we have the strength, we have the speed, we just need to have the guts to walk in there like we are going to shred the track into pieces.
Imagine this. On a Monday morning around 9:30, it was that time of year again: Fitness testing week and it was the day where we took the hardest, most physically painful test, also known as running the mile. The first lap seemed pretty easy to run but towards the end of the second lap, finishing the other two laps seemed impossible, so I just wanted to just walk it from there, when all of a sudden, a rush of energy came over me, allowing me to run a good 10 minute mile. Although I did want to give up and walk the rest of the mile, I pushed through it and managed to jog the whole time, making the reward of finishing sooner feel even better.
Where Berent, Cael, Trevor, Xavier, and I drove up to play for the state cup. The rest of the team was with their parents but we decided to carpool to save money. We were all joking around until we figured out that we were going to play the older tempo team, Tempo Blaze. At first, we thought that this would be a sweep, that we would win the whole tournament without worrying, but know we have to play the team that has never lost this year and we have never beaten for as
We lost our first game of the season. That game chanleged us all. Would continue to stare at the dirt or reach for the stars. We continued to strugle as team. It was my turn to take charge as a leader for this team, but I letting everything just go bye.
The team performed our usual routine; fifteen minute warm-up, body exercises and cheered on the boys running before our race. Everything was in place, I thought. We lined up on the line, exchanged phrases of luck and prepared for the gun. The gun went off and our feet flew down the field. Upper Darby would succeed in our goal, I felt
Despite the newspapers and previews saying we would not contend for the state title that year, I kept in my head that anything could happen. Going into the year I told our team “lets focus on what we can do to improve, and not worry about anyone else”. At the beginning, other teams were too strong for our inexperienced runners to compete with, but we didn’t change the focus. Practice after practice, I made sure we were doing everything we could to be at our best for the end of the year. I didn’t care what other teams were doing because we had no control over that.
During my final year of Cross Country around Regionals at Oglethorpe, I ran my final race for my high school career. Banks County was nearly number one in the State, the furthest we had ever ranked in history, and spirit and hopes for State Championship were high. I was nervous, like nobody’s business, I had messed up during my senior night because I was upset for my parents for not showing up and escorting me. And I was scared that I was going to do horribly. But as I ran, I realized that if I let my past mistakes and failures hold me back or get in my way, so I ran, harder and better than I ever had before and apparently even beat a “skinny kid”.
Even though we lost, that final moment that I jogged off the field, every one of my teammates smiled, and gave me a high five. As I gathered my things, I went over to my family. “You did an amazing job for your first time!” They all say in unison. Making it seem like it was rehearsed.
I had plenty of time to think about my runs considering that Rock Springs is 15 long hours away. Once we got there is when all the nerves started to get me. I found out when I drew up and it just happened to be Sunday night and Saturday morning which meant I had almost a full week to see my competition go. It also meant I only had two days to mentally prepare myself. On Saturday morning I got up early and worked Fancy one last time before the round that night.
I watched the team as they celebrated their victory with the fans. I watched the players hug each other and cry with tears of joy. " So that 's what it would feel like to go to the state tournament," I heard myself say. As they continued to celebrate, I sat there wondering about the team and what kind of players contributed to their success.
In past years, 2012 and 2013, the Sainte Genevieve Girls Team had won state handedly, leaving our tattered team with lofty expectations from spectators and teams all over the state. The spotlight was on us to be champions once more, making history for Missouri Cross Country. The seven person team toed the line that chilly November morning with hopes deeply imbedded in hearts accompanied by the fear of failure in racing minds. With all the other
Hundreds of people in the crowd all chanted “Starlites! Starlites!” the music pounded in our ears. What made us the most nervous, however, were the other teams, from all over the country, their eyes burning into us, watching our every move. Many of the teams were composed of girls from different racial ethnic backgrounds.
On a good day you 're mediocre, on a day like today, you 're horrific. That race, and the world-shattering heartbreak that followed, forever changed the way I saw running. I discovered that even hard work is not always invincible at the hands of fate.
In our seats, which have been used by our family for decades, we admire the first turn of the race and its treacherous twist into the third turn. After the announcement of drivers, the national anthem, and the flyover, the crowd on the track slowly disappears and the driver’s engines come to life. Thousands of balloons fly away overhead and the drivers follow behind the pace car for the start of the five hundred mile race. My Dad and I stand up with the rest of the crowd and ready ourselves for the race.