Class of 2020

Two days ago, I found out that my last high school track season had been cancelled. 

After struggling with anxiety and a foot injury throughout cross country this past fall, I was ready to have my comeback season. I couldn’t wait to compete and run my best again. I was so excited to run at the Drake Relays again and envisioned holding a white champions flag after one of my races. I wanted so badly to cross the finish line as state champion. Suddenly, all of that was in danger of never coming true. 

When I heard the news it didn’t sink in right away. After a few hours I finally started to realize that I was never going to toe the line in my high school uniform ever again. A rush of emotions hit me. My last chances to become a state champion have been taken away, a goal I’ve had for the past couple years and something that has driven me to become better every day, was gone in an instant. I thought about how I wouldn’t get to run another 4x800 with my teammates again, how I’d never get the chance to break 10 minutes in the 3,000 wearing my blue Senior jersey. I thought about my friends and all the time we were going to lose together when we could have made more memories and had more fun together. My heart is broken that this is the way the class of 2020 has to go out. No blue oval this year to finish our high school careers on. 

More than anything, I wish that last day hadn’t been my last day. That day of practice before spring break began, we all knew that there was a chance we might have another week away from each other. But one week isn’t too bad, right? Suddenly, one week turned into a month apart from my best friends and racing. We continued to train, hopefully anticipating a reunion.

Then the season got postponed another month and the hope wavered. Most of us started realizing that the odds of having a track season were slim. As the month progressed, I felt hopeful still; but there was a part of me that knew it was unlikely to happen. I was frustrated that I was having my season taken away from me. I was angry that I was training well and felt the best I had in months and knew I wasn’t getting to show this progress in competitions. I was sad knowing that my time with my track coach was probably gone. But what makes the pain so much worse is missing my friends. 

The girls on my team are some of the best people I’ve ever met. They became my best friends and supporters. When one of us was struggling, there was always someone there reaching out and making sure we were okay. If you had a bad race, you’d be immediately cheered up when your teammates gave you a hug. If you had a great race, everyone would be so excited for you, no matter how their own race had gone. The bond our team has is the reason our team is one of the best in the state. We held each other accountable and pushed ourselves to be better. Something our cross country coach told us was to do it for your teammates. So everything we did, we did for the team.

Not being with them every day feels odd. It makes everything quieter. We would goof off and joke with our coaches. We’d run together in 10 degrees during the winter up to 109 degrees on the track. There have been so many amazing experiences with this team, and it’s hard for it to end so quickly. 

But just because our high school careers are finished, it doesn’t mean we won’t see each other again. Running has changed my life, as cheesy as it sounds. I met my best friends through running, I became more confident in myself, got to travel to big meets, race with the best in the state, and be part of one the best teams in the state. Although I wish the season had ended at Drake stadium, I’m thankful for the time I got at Senior. I’m thankful for my friends, coaches, and teammates for making running so much fun and for pushing me to become the best runner and person I can be. No matter what, running will always be there. 

So thank you, to everyone who made my time at senior a time that I’ll look back at fondly. I can’t wait to see you again; but for now, stay safe and run happy/fast and turn left.

-Claire Edmondson (@ClaireRuthE)