a change in perspective.

Imagine this. It’s finally arrived: your last high school sports season. Most likely your last ever season of that sport. It’s your senior year. You’ve been working for 4+ years, it’s time to shine, leave it all out there, to finish on a good note. It’s that time for records, prs, and performing the best you ever have. Then the unexpected happens: you get injured. And just like that everything changes.

I have been running cross country for the past 6 years. Throughout those 6 seasons, I have learned immeasurably more about myself than anything else I’ve experienced. This sport has allowed to grow and mature into a strong leader, athlete and person. It has taught me about the power of teamwork and of unity. And most of all, it has prepared me to tackle any obstacle I stumble upon in life, with the most steadfast determination and unwavering grit.

This past season in particular, my senior season, has been the season where I believe I have learned more than probably all the other seasons combined.

I came into the season feeling strong. I had worked hard all summer to stay in shape. Even though I had been gone a lot of the summer, I had run every chance I could get. I was ready. To run fast. To race fast. And to continue that pattern throughout the entirety of the season.

The first meet of the season arrived, and right away something felt off. I ran the worst time I had ever run, and just didn’t feel like myself at all. At the end of the race, my ankle started to hurt. Just barely though, not enough to make me worry. All the years that I’ve run cross country I’ve been lucky with never having a bad injury. So I thought, at the very most, it’s just a tweak.

A couple days later, I was barely able to run on it. We were only a couple weeks into the season, and already I was in a brace for a stress-induced injury and found myself having to sit on the sidelines at one of my favorite invitationals of the season, and what would’ve been my last time to ever run it.

At first, I was really upset. Why did this have to happen to me, of all years, my senior year? I should be up there with my teammates, pushing them, and helping them through.

And then one of my coaches said something to me, as I was sitting in a chair, watching all the other runners race by. What he said stuck with me and turned my perspective upside down for the rest of the season.

He asked me, “When you look back on the past seasons, what do you remember the most: the races, or the people/memories?” To which I didn’t even have to think twice before responding, “The people for sure.” He smiled at me and said, “That’s right. So enjoy this time, and the people around you. Just have fun. It’s going to go by fast.”

That was my wake up call. Right away, my perspective shifted off of myself, from pitying myself, and shifted to my teammates, and how i could help and encourage them.

Throughout the next couple weeks, as my ankle slowly healed, I had to take it really easy. I knew I wouldn’t be able to run up with the other varsity girls for a while. Because of this, on our runs I would hang back with some of the JV runners and run with them. In doing so, I realized there were so many people on this team who I really didn’t know that well. Even some who I had been running with all 4 years, but didn’t know much more about them than their name.

So each day I ran with a different person. Because the pace was pretty easy for me, compared to how fast I usually run, I was able to have good conversation with many different people. I met so many new people and learned things I never knew about them. And I was able to encourage them and motivate them. It was very humbling for me. 

During this time, I also saw an opportunity for me to step it up as a leader on the team. I helped lead warm-ups, helped the freshmen calm down and figure out what to do, and just tried to be more encouraging and outgoing with everyone on the team. I realized that I really liked helping out younger athletes, it gave me a good feeling inside, especially knowing what it felt like being in their place.

As I was experiencing all this, I was also healing pretty fast. I was able to race again, and even though it hurt, I was able to push through the pain.

My ankle finally healed, but I still wasn’t having stellar races. But because my perspective was changed, because I didn’t place all of the importance on how well I ran, I never was upset with myself. As long as I knew I gave it my best effort, I was proud of myself.

The season raced by. I continued to develop more and more into a leader, and continued to meet and talk with new people on the team. Even though I wasn’t running amazing, I was gaining so much more out of the season than any other season before.

Then the last week of practices started. I knew that the league meet was looming ahead of us that week on Thursday.

Monday. I felt strong. We ran intervals. I was running like the wind. “I’m ready for this,” I said to myself.

Tuesday. Long run. I felt amazing again. My legs barely hurt. An uneven stretch of dead grass. Hard to get my footing for a minute, but no big deal.

Wednesday. It’s the day before leagues. The first step of our warm up run: ouch. shooting pain. ouch. oh come on. It’s just a tweak, it’s just a tweak. Then I remember yesterday and that uneven ground that I had forgotten about until now. A day before leagues, the most important race of the year, and it was clear that I had strained my foot.

Thursday. It’s the day of leagues! I get on the bus and ride with the team, unsure of whether or not I will even be running. I talk to my coach, who tells me to prepare an alternate to take my place if I decide to sit out. I’m frustrated. This is my last race ever, at my favorite course too. 30 min before our race, the varsity girls head out to do our warm-up. I’m able to run without limping too much, so i figure, I should just push through the pain. I just have to be in pain for 20 ish minutes. 5 minutes before the race. My racing flats are laced up tight, for the last time. Team prayer, for the last time. That moment of complete and utter silence before the gun, for the last time. I can do this. The gun goes off and so do we. I tell myself, take the first mile relaxed and controlled. Because I have been doing XC for so long now, I have learned to be able to tell at or around mile 1 whether or not I will have a good race where I feel strong the whole way. I hit mile one. I feel great. Everyone is screaming. I’ve already passed all 4 of my coaches who screamed at me “you’re a warrior sarah” and “you’re so tough sarah” and “you are stronger than that pain!” I realize, I don’t feel my foot, it’s not hurting! Thank you adrenaline! I had heard stories of injured runners racing and magically their pain going away because of the adrenaline rush, but I never knew that it could actually happen. I felt strong the whole entire race. I shot up those hills, for the last time ever. And raced into the finish line, leaving absolutely everything on the course. I had nothing left in me to give as I crossed that line.

As I was met outside of the chute with my parents and my other teammates I was beaming with pride at what I had just done. I embraced my parents, almost in tears, realizing I had just crossed the finish line for the last time.

Back at the team’s tent, I sat down to ice my foot. And the coach who had changed my perspective completely around at the beginning of the season, at this same exact course, came up to me. “Kid, I’m so proud of you. And not just because you pushed through the pain, but because I think you proved something to yourself today too.”

And he was right. I proved to myself that I can conquer any obstacle, if I set my mind to it, and truly believe in myself. No injury can stop me from discovering the strength that lies within me. No pain can inhibit me or make me decide to give up. I will always keep going, no matter what. And that applies to everything in my life.

Even though almost every run was painful, it was worth it to me to come everyday and talk and laugh and just enjoy being with all my teammates. Looking back now, even some of the most annoying freshmen boys on the team, I’m honestly going to miss. And I’m forever indebted to this sport for how it has shaped me into the strong, resilient person that I am. I believe in myself more than before. I believe in other people more than before. So even though injuries really are not fun, I know that I never would’ve grown or learned any of these things if I had had the perfect season, free of injuries and full of prs.

Thank you, XC, for showing me who I am, and what I am capable of.

- Sarah Hatcher (@sarahchatcher)