My Toughest, Craziest, Best Season Yet.

August 8th. The start of my school’s season. Well, for most people. My season began right after school got out, two weeks after our track season came to a close. I trained all summer to try to meet my time and place goals: be a scorer on varsity and finally break under 20 minutes. I did it all: distance workouts, speed workouts, all of it. Nearly every single day, I was working my butt off.

August 24th. Our first meet. Our home course. I wasn't quite expecting a PR yet, as it's a pretty hilly course, but I was looking forward to earning my varsity spot. I thought I could easily break our top 5, but a freshman and junior, both in their first year, one of my closest friends who was 2 minutes behind me in past years, and a student who had transferred from a different school, all managed to beat me. I was also short of my time goal. I was devastated, to put it lightly. After having such high expectations for myself, falling short of some of my first goals right away was heartbreaking. In spite of all this, however, I managed to get top 7 within our team: varsity. The very first goal I had for myself, all the way back in 7th grade, was to be varsity like all the great runners at our school. It was a small victory for me after being eclipsed by new, higher-caliber goals, but a victory nonetheless.

August 29th. The second meet of the year. This meet was notorious for not being a bad course, but always being a really hot meet. This year was no different, and the sun beat down on us the whole race. After staying with the numbers 4-6 guys on our team through the first half of the race, I eventually couldn’t stay with them any longer and trailed behind them. My placing within the team didn’t change, which I was obviously frustrated by, but I beat my time from the last meet. Again, a small victory.

September 7th. The day my season went downhill. We had a meet at my least favorite course to run. Every year, I had my worst time there for some strange reason. This year was different, though. I beat my season best once again; however, my placing was what broke me. I had my varsity spot taken. I don’t know if it works this way at all other schools, but unless there’s conditions like illness, injuries, etc. bringing down a person’s time for just one meet, our coach takes the best seven times from the last meet, and those are varsity runners for the next meet. I was 8th. At this point, it also hit me that although I was getting season PR’s, I was nowhere close to my ultimate goal of 20 minutes. 

September 18th. The next meet. We were at the hilliest course of the year, and I earned my spot back. In fact, I ran the number five top time on the team-- scoring! But, since I was number eight at the last meet, I didn’t run varsity. Therefore, I still hadn’t been a scorer for the team. And I’d still gotten a season PR, my fourth straight! Things could only be going up from here… right?

September 21st. The day my season finally tumbled all the way down. My first race without a season PR, and another 8th on the team finish. I didn’t understand. I thought I’d outworked all of these people-- and some I still believe I did-- but yet they were still beating me. Although this wouldn’t be the end of the world for most people, my poor mental health made it so it was for me. It was at this time the dreaded thought most runners have during tough runs finally stuck with me for most of the remainder of the season: “After this year, I’m done” 

The next couple meets were a blur for me. I still applied myself in practice, and I was constantly in limbo between varsity and JV, but only between seventh and eighth on the team, never again any better. The sport that had once been: if I had to choose one activity to do throughout high school, it would be this, instead became: “God, I can’t wait to get out of practice”. A piss-poor attitude that had plagued much of our team already had finally worn off onto me, but even more extreme than much of our team.

There were four people who helped me get out of this funk: the aforementioned close friend (who I’ll call “Ted”), two freshmen, and my coach. Ted and I had been friends since kindergarten; we never got close until high school, though. But freshmen year-- probably mostly because of cross country (he didn’t participate during junior high)-- we grew very close. On the course and the oval, we always have and always will compete to see who can best the other. He elevated practice from going through the motions, and made it fun. Whether we were telling whatever weird occurances had happened during the day or just making dumb jokes during stretches, he helped practice become what took me out of my funk.

The two freshmen I’d talked to were both pretty special to me during the year. Over the summer, I made it my goal to mentor the freshmen to have a positive effect on their times and life during the season in general. I did not, however, expect them to have the same effect on me. Now, I’m proud to call these freshies two of my best friends, and hope I have the same effect on the next freshmen, and that they yet again affect me positively, too.

October 3rd. The day I knew I wouldn’t quit. The day my coach finally snapped me out of my funk. We had a meet where I was supposed to run varsity. It was just an expectation for me at this point, so I waited as Coach read the names for varsity the day before to hear my name. I didn’t hear it. I knew it wasn’t a mistake-- our coach didn’t make mistakes with varsity and JV lineups. I was fuming, and that’s putting it lightly. We finished stretching for practice and I drove home. I wasn’t going to ask for an explanation; I didn’t care anymore, I was already quitting next year. The next day we loaded up the bus for the meet, and I stretched getting ready to run halfheartedly. “It’s JV, why should I even bother?” I’d thought to myself. Coach came over and gave us a speech and broke us down with our usual “1-2-3, JAGS!!!” but followed with something not as usual.

“Parker, I need to talk to you,” he said. This was unusual for me; usually our coach just gave me a quick “good luck” or “start strong”. It’s not that he didn’t want to talk to me, I think he’s just learned I’d rather be left alone before and after races, especially disappointing ones. But, he always seems to know when he needs to talk to me. This was one of those times.

“I know you’re probably pretty mad right now, but I think this is exactly what you need” he told me. I never forgot those words during the race, as I finally shattered my career PR and medaled for JV. I’ll never forget those words as I fill out the cross country sign up in the spring, and as I run for the next two years. 

As for the rest of the season, I didn’t manage to get my goal of under 20 minutes. However, I was 4th on the team at our district meet. Finally, I was a scorer! I was overjoyed. But even after all these goals I’ve set and broken, and some I didn’t surpass, this season reminded me why cross country was and is again my favorite sport. It isn’t all about the PR’s, the goals, or the medals (even though they’re all great). The reason why cross country is so great? The amazing, supportive people all around you on your team, in your state, your country, and the world!

- Parker Johnson ( @RealPacoJohn )