XC is Love
Throughout my high school life and prior to I have always considered myself more of an academic, rather than athletic, type. I have worked hard in the classroom to earn good grades and rank at the top of my class. Because of my studious ways I have developed a love for math and the sciences, and hope to apply this love to my future. However, despite the fact that I have excelled moreso in school than in athletics I have also developed a strong passion for sports. Tennis, which I have become relatively skilled at and have earned varsity letters in, has been my favorite sport for quite sometime. Nevertheless, the experience that has had one of the biggest impacts on my life thus far as been participating in the sport of cross country. Even though I wouldn't quite consider myself great a runner, being able to call myself a distance runner is something I am proud of and because of this cross country is one of my biggest accomplishments.
Joining my highschool's cross country team was something I never really saw myself doing until maybe a day or so before I did, simply for the fact that I had always absolutely loathed running. However, two things pushed and nagged me to join the cult that is distance runners the summer before my junior year. One of these two things was my friends. The first two years of my highschool career I had spent with upperclassmen friends, who unfortunately had graduated and would be leaving at the end of the summer. The night before the first day of practice, I was with two of my new friends in my own grade who spent the time trying to convince me that joining the team will help me make new friends for the upcoming two years of highschool, but I said to them that there was no way I would do it, seeing as I hated running and was simply incapable of doing so. The second thing, although slightly superficial, was a little blue and black polkadot homecoming dress I had purchased at the beginning of June. Come August, after a full summer, I could no longer quite get the darn zipper up. I was determined to squeeze back into the dress by fall, and my friends finally convinced me that cross country was just the thing to do it. The next morning, despite the hatred of running, I got up and went to practice. Doing so was one of the best decisions I have made yet in my life.
The two miles I set out on the first day of practice the beginning of my junior year seemed to me like physical torture at the time. I wasn't necesarily out of shape, but as I have said previously I wasn't much into running. However, when I reached the end of the run to see my new team cheering me up the stairs in front of my school as they did for everyone after every run I knew then that it was something I had to stick to, for it would eventually pay off. I soon learned that cross country was infact just has hard as it looked. Practices were often grueling, and I came home exhausted from the workouts nearly every night. What kept me at it though, was the rush I received after completing the runs. Being apart of a team that was a state champion and nationally ranked, my times never really stuckout. Being a newcomer to not only the team, but to the sport as a whole, I was generally toward the end of the pack. But the feeling I got after crossing the first finish line and every finish line there after was a feeling that beat most of those feelings of receiving an A on an exam or winning a tennis meet because it was a feeling I had never previously experienced. During the course of most races I would reach the point where I wasn't sure I'd be able to finish and would sometimes consider ducking out, but at everyone I managed to convince myself to keep going. After each one, once I finally managed to catch my breath, a smile would creep across my face and I would be overwhelmed with happiness for completing what I had initially thought was an impossible task for myself. Although the season had it's ups and downs; it's injuries, it's exhaustion, and it's occasional last place finished, I continued to push myself. Throughout the fall I continued to get personal best after personal best at meet after meet. By the end of the season I came to realize that this was something I actually could do even when I really thought I couldn't. And although I still had a bit of hatred left for running itself, I came to love cross country.
The following summer I was determined to improve even more. Nearly every morning I ran with the summer running group at eight. At the end of the summer was when it came time to put all my hard work to the test. To kick off the season each year the team holds an eleven mile fundraising run. The previous year I had only ran two of those eleven miles, because all eleven weren't mandatory. This year, however, I managed to complete the entire run. When I returned home from the run I wrote in my diary that "I never felt so dead and yet so alive in my entire life". That's when I truly started to consider myself a distance runner, because I understood why cross country runners love to run mile after mile when an outsider might just think of it as complete insanity. This season I improved both my times and my efforts significantly. I learned hard work and the discipline not to give up, because no matter what it was always rewarding. Through my teammates I learned how to enjoy or at least appreciate every workout, no matter how difficult. I have learned that the phrase "you'll never know until you try" couldn't be truer. That is something I will keep with me forever. At the finish line of the last race of my senior I came to love not only cross country, but to love running as well.
I was more than a little happy to have reached my initial goals of squeezing into my favorite dress and coming out with some of the best friends of my life, but I will be forever greatful for what I had not expected. Not only had I met the goals I had intended, but I was also rewarded with something much bigger- self-satisfaction. Never before had I been more proud of myself, for I had completed something I thought I was incapable of. The two miles I thought was impossible turned into eleven, hopefully to turn into a marathon someday. Not only did I learn to run but I learned to try. The rest of my life I will remember to try, because I just might come out loving something I never would have expected.
Joining my highschool's cross country team was something I never really saw myself doing until maybe a day or so before I did, simply for the fact that I had always absolutely loathed running. However, two things pushed and nagged me to join the cult that is distance runners the summer before my junior year. One of these two things was my friends. The first two years of my highschool career I had spent with upperclassmen friends, who unfortunately had graduated and would be leaving at the end of the summer. The night before the first day of practice, I was with two of my new friends in my own grade who spent the time trying to convince me that joining the team will help me make new friends for the upcoming two years of highschool, but I said to them that there was no way I would do it, seeing as I hated running and was simply incapable of doing so. The second thing, although slightly superficial, was a little blue and black polkadot homecoming dress I had purchased at the beginning of June. Come August, after a full summer, I could no longer quite get the darn zipper up. I was determined to squeeze back into the dress by fall, and my friends finally convinced me that cross country was just the thing to do it. The next morning, despite the hatred of running, I got up and went to practice. Doing so was one of the best decisions I have made yet in my life.
The two miles I set out on the first day of practice the beginning of my junior year seemed to me like physical torture at the time. I wasn't necesarily out of shape, but as I have said previously I wasn't much into running. However, when I reached the end of the run to see my new team cheering me up the stairs in front of my school as they did for everyone after every run I knew then that it was something I had to stick to, for it would eventually pay off. I soon learned that cross country was infact just has hard as it looked. Practices were often grueling, and I came home exhausted from the workouts nearly every night. What kept me at it though, was the rush I received after completing the runs. Being apart of a team that was a state champion and nationally ranked, my times never really stuckout. Being a newcomer to not only the team, but to the sport as a whole, I was generally toward the end of the pack. But the feeling I got after crossing the first finish line and every finish line there after was a feeling that beat most of those feelings of receiving an A on an exam or winning a tennis meet because it was a feeling I had never previously experienced. During the course of most races I would reach the point where I wasn't sure I'd be able to finish and would sometimes consider ducking out, but at everyone I managed to convince myself to keep going. After each one, once I finally managed to catch my breath, a smile would creep across my face and I would be overwhelmed with happiness for completing what I had initially thought was an impossible task for myself. Although the season had it's ups and downs; it's injuries, it's exhaustion, and it's occasional last place finished, I continued to push myself. Throughout the fall I continued to get personal best after personal best at meet after meet. By the end of the season I came to realize that this was something I actually could do even when I really thought I couldn't. And although I still had a bit of hatred left for running itself, I came to love cross country.
The following summer I was determined to improve even more. Nearly every morning I ran with the summer running group at eight. At the end of the summer was when it came time to put all my hard work to the test. To kick off the season each year the team holds an eleven mile fundraising run. The previous year I had only ran two of those eleven miles, because all eleven weren't mandatory. This year, however, I managed to complete the entire run. When I returned home from the run I wrote in my diary that "I never felt so dead and yet so alive in my entire life". That's when I truly started to consider myself a distance runner, because I understood why cross country runners love to run mile after mile when an outsider might just think of it as complete insanity. This season I improved both my times and my efforts significantly. I learned hard work and the discipline not to give up, because no matter what it was always rewarding. Through my teammates I learned how to enjoy or at least appreciate every workout, no matter how difficult. I have learned that the phrase "you'll never know until you try" couldn't be truer. That is something I will keep with me forever. At the finish line of the last race of my senior I came to love not only cross country, but to love running as well.
I was more than a little happy to have reached my initial goals of squeezing into my favorite dress and coming out with some of the best friends of my life, but I will be forever greatful for what I had not expected. Not only had I met the goals I had intended, but I was also rewarded with something much bigger- self-satisfaction. Never before had I been more proud of myself, for I had completed something I thought I was incapable of. The two miles I thought was impossible turned into eleven, hopefully to turn into a marathon someday. Not only did I learn to run but I learned to try. The rest of my life I will remember to try, because I just might come out loving something I never would have expected.