Polar Opposites: A Short Story

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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
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