Perseverance and Pain: Pushing Away Failure

 In seventh grade, I was eighth in terms of time on my cross country team. That meant I was an alternate for the regional team. It hurt. 

Eighth grade, I didn't run. All hope was lost. 

Freshman year, I thought I'd give cross country another try. Once again, I was eighth on my team. That hurt even more. 

The summer before my sophomore cross country season was brutal. I had survived a track season full of disappointments and missed qualifying times; of difficult teammates, and never feeling good enough to call myself a runner. That summer was when I declared that I would keep a training log and seriously get to work. I upped my mileage to fifty. I ran no matter what. I ran regardless of pain, weather, or any other deterring factor. Everyone called me crazy and obsessed. Running was all I thought about, all day. 

And I still think about it constantly, but now for the right reasons. 

Now I don't think about how sad my times made me. 

Now I focus on the future, and what is to come with my next few years on the team. 

Now, I'm even more focused. 

After that summer of training, I returned to cross country with a sold base. Our new coach changed my life. He told us that he liked to win. He was a state cross country champion, twice. That season I finally was able to understand why people like winning so much. 

I started out the season as underestimated. I was treated like I didn't belong in my position as the new second best runner on the team because I wasn't a natural runner. People felt that my hard work was a way to cheat to the top. 

People didn't want me to succeed, and that only made me run faster. 

Faster away from the nonsense about how I'd never win. 

And eventually, I won. 

Before the race I won, my nearest competitor approached me and told me I'd lose to her. My coach's response when I told him the verbal exchange:

Well, now you have to beat her. 

So I did. I clung onto her until the very end, and then outkicked her. I won that race. 

Am I still treated condescendingly? Yes. Does it bother me now? No. Because I proved to myself and to others that I deserve to be a quality runner and that I too can end up on top. 

I went on to qualify for the state cross country meet as a sophomore, after being an alternate for the regional team freshman year. 

My times improved by over ten minutes from freshman year. 

My message is this: 

You can do anything you put your mind to.

- Anonymous