Collegiate running is not for everyone.

I was a competitive swimmer from third grade to my freshman year of high school. I did not start swimming as a way to stay "fit" or to look a certain way. I wanted to make friends and see how hard I could push myself. It was simply a fun thing to do in my free time.

My competitive swim team hired a new head coach right before the start of my eighth grade year. Although I liked him at first, he came to see my potential and started to be unreasonably hard on me. Because of this, I burned out and started to focus more on running, something I'd done on and off for a few years. I came into high school more excited about cross country than swim season, but knew that with the right coaches and the right attitude, I could succeed in both. 

My first season of high school cross country was a bit rough. Although I ran Varsity as a freshman, I had a terrible attitude and would sometimes break out in tears. The season was a reminder of the anxiety I had been struggling with for years, something that had held me back in athletics in the past. 

Thankfully, I had amazing coaches and a Varsity team of supportive underclassmen. Although many of them did not to pretend to relate, they sympathized with me and tried to make me feel better. This made all the difference and was one of the reasons I continued with the sport. 

Although I wanted to do track in the spring, I figured I should try one season of high school swimming (since, after all, I had been a swimmer for so long). I did not have as many anxiety issues as I did with cross-country, but the coach was not very understanding and my teammates were not incredibly inclusive. After that season, I decided to quit swimming for good and focus on running.

My times and my anxiety got better during the next three years of high school running. I led our cross-country team to our first appearance at the state meet in a long time my sophomore year. That spring, I set the school record in the 3200 meters and qualified for the state meet. I struggled with injuries throughout my junior year cross-country season, and did not have the track season I wanted to have because of it. 

Although I found much more success running than I ever thought I was going to, I am the most proud of my accomplishments off the course. Although the upperclassmen my freshman year were welcoming, I still did not feel like a part of the Varsity team. During summer conditioning my sophomore, junior, and senior years, I would slow down and run with the freshmen. I wanted them (especially the ones who I knew could make Varsity) to have as positive of an experience as possible running cross-country. I made some of my very best friends slowing down and doing this, and became a role model and eventually a team captain. I was also proud of the anxiety I overcame to be a leader. Because of my newfound confidence, I was able to go to overnight meets (I never spent the night away from my parents as a kid) and stayed confident during workouts.

I applied to five colleges the summer before my senior year. Although at the time I only had the times to run at one out of the five of these universities, they all had strong political science programs and I knew most of them were within reach. Yes, I loved running, but continuing to run cross-country in college was not my top priority. I wanted to choose a school for its academics and see where that took me. 

My top college by the end of the summer was a small, private Division I school about three and a half hours away. Although I knew I could get in, my parents weren't sure if they could afford it. I knew I would have to have a stellar senior cross-country season to run there. 

My senior year cross-country season turned out to be my fastest one yet. I dropped forty seconds off of my previous 5k time and ran much more consistently. I now had the times to run at my dream school, and was no longer worried about cost because of the academic scholarship I received. The school's cross-country coach agreed to meet with me over winter break after I filled out a recruitment form on the team's website. It seemed as it everything was falling into place!

I was extremely impressed with the school's cross-country program when I met with one of the assistant coaches. He reminded me of my high school coach (someone whom I look up to) and was easy to talk to. He told me I would receive no athletic scholarship because of the program's budget and my high school times (which were on the slower end of recruits). Because the meeting was over winter break, I was only able to meet one of the girls on the team. I verbally committed about a week after the visit, and signed my NLI less than a month and a half later.

Although running was my main priority during high school, I was involved in many other things. I was the second-chair cello in my school's advanced orchestra, in several leadership clubs, and took piano lessons. Because I wanted to continue being well-rounded in college, I auditioned for my university's piano minor program the day after my athletic signing ceremony. After my audition, the professor (whom I already knew I would work well with) thought I was too talented for a minor and suggested I major in piano. He offered me a hefty scholarship, and I was officially a student-athlete and a double major in music and politics a couple of weeks later. 

My senior track season did not go the way I wanted it to, but it helped to know I already committed to a university. It was really hard saying goodbye to my teammates at the end of the season. They had become my best friends and were the reasons why I enjoyed running in high school so much. This was one of the reasons why I struggled with summer cross-country training.

I was disappointed to hear that my university was getting rid of all the existing cross-country coaches and hiring a new head coach. Because the new head coach did not start his job until the middle of July, I estimated how long I was supposed to run and made up my workouts and tempo runs. This lack of leadership was incredibly frustrating to me. In addition, I had a hard time motivating myself to run long distances each day. I blamed this lack of motivation on my anxiety, and thought it would get better throughout college. I compared myself to my future roommate (who would also be on the cross-country team) a lot. She was incredibly passionate about running, and did not seem to struggle with motivation issues like I did. 

Although I assumed I would be good friends with my roommate and the rest of the cross-country team, I was eager to meet new, non-athletic people once at college. I had so much fun with the new people I met during welcome week, but realized I would be confined to hanging out with the cross-country team in college. I liked the people on my new team, but I also enjoyed hanging out with my welcome week friends. As someone who hung out with a variety of different groups in high school, I did not expect to be confined to hanging out with the student-athletes.

 
Because of the lack of guidance I was given, I overdid a lot of my summer training and got injured about a week before move-in day. I was told to go to the athletic trainer right after I moved in. The trainer said that I was not allowed to run again until I felt no pain at all. I went straight to the elliptical and missed out on the day's team run.

Even though they were across the street, my new cross-country coaches gave me little guidance on what to do. They took the program far more seriously than previous coaches, so I felt like an afterthought most of the time. I made up workouts on the elliptical and the spinning bike while my teammates were running with the coaches. My new teammates were not welcoming or very nice. But the meanest person was my roommate, who practically told me that none of the girls on the cross-country team wanted to get to know me.

In addition, I struggled with being a student-athlete and a music major. I spent hours a day practicing in the music building, and had little time to get to know my teammates or join any clubs. Although being a music major was a lot of work, I absolutely LOVED it. I could push myself as hard as I wanted to without fear of injury, and I felt a lot less anxiety competing against myself instead of competing against others. I knew that I wanted to pursue a major in music because of my passion and drive.

That passion and drive was not mimicked in my desire to run again. I didn't really care that much about running again, and didn't go to the trainer or roll out as much as I should have. I felt my lack of motivation was letting the team down. Because of how well I motivated myself to get to the practice room every day, I knew that this wasn't because of my lack of drive as a person. It was due to my lack of passion for running at the Division I college level.

This was an incredibly hard realization to come to, and quitting the team was a tough discussion to have with the coaches. I realized that my "passion" for running in high school was because of the friendships I created, not because I loved running more than anything. I was incredibly thankful to have both a coaching staff and a family that was supportive of me quitting. Quitting the team would give me more time to focus on my music and to join other clubs.

Collegiate running isn't for everyone, no matter how successful one was in high school. It takes a certain kind of drive and passion for running to compete at such a high level. I'm thankful that I realized I didn't possess that drive early on, and that I still want to attend my university because of its academics. I still run very often but have found other ways to be passionate about fitness. I started lifting and biking, and recently got back into swimming. And I have high hopes for myself for my next three and a half years of college.

- Anonymous