Running: The One Puzzle I Couldn't Solve.

Running is a mystery; it’s a puzzle some spend their lives trying to solve but never do. Before you know it the timer has stopped, the final run has been recorded, the watch has died, the spikes have been unlaced, the water bottle is empty, and you’re walking off the track for the last time. Throughout high school I tried to solve the puzzle and figure out why I ran but I never could put it together the right way.

I began running in Kindergarten at age 5, I was awful and only ran 200s and 400s. I did this from K-8 grade. At that time, running was just an excuse to hang out with friends. I would’ve never imagined what it would become for me in the future. 

Freshman year of high school I joined the soccer team because I wanted to branch out and try something new. I learned very quickly that I had no sense of hand-eye coordination and that soccer just wasn’t for me. But hey, at least I wasn’t running. Throughout the season I’d often see this group of about eight girls running around the school who were apart of the XC team. I would always laugh at the math and say “Ha, running 3 miles for a race is a joke. Cross Country is a joke of a sport.” Little did I know by fall 2016 I’d add myself to that small team of 8 girls. 

Anyway, my first indoor season I was still a sprinter. I focused on the 200 because I hated the 400. My times were absolute garbage, but I made a couple friends. I especially became close with this one girl. She was an amazing 400 meter runner. Her passion for the sport inspired me so much; she’s truthfully the reason I didn’t transfer after my freshman year. Without her, I don’t know where I would’ve been.

Spring 2016 was when I first accepted the fact that I was not a good sprinter and decided to talk to the distance coach. I told him I wanted to work on my endurance and he said he could help me. I trusted him because the distance kids always seemed to enjoy practice much more than the sprinters. I started doing easy mileage and slow workouts and before I knew it I had won the freshman county championship for the 2 mile. It was right then and there that I had signed my life away.

It was this next season that changed everything for me. Cross country 2016 was the season I realized this sport wasn’t going to be a walk in the park. I started the season JV; I would’ve raced varsity but my coaches felt I’d be more comfortable in a JV race since it was my first cross country meet ever. I was a nervous wreck and by the end of the race I was just glad I had finished it. That would be the last time I’d compete as a JV athlete during my high school career. The season progressed and my times were rapidly dropping. Everyone started to pay attention to me; even my coaches started to care more. It was the happiest I had ever been while running. 

By the next indoor season I was in decent shape and training as a varsity athlete full time. Around this time I started running with a senior. She was from my hometown. I had met her in middle school through the local track program but I never really talked to her until now. We’d run together everyday and just talk the entire time about pointless things. We became really close throughout the season. Towards the end of the season I’d spend my weekends at her house; we did everything together. Between eating Chinese food, watching movies like High School Musical, and going prom dress shopping, we became inseparable. I considered her a sister and still do; she’s to this day my best friend.

By spring things had began to change. As races and workouts went rotten, my confidence would plummet. What replaced it? Anxiety. It’s something I could never get rid of and only got worse. Everyone had huge expectations for me; they thought I could do big things. I knew the truth though; I was a girl who hadn’t experienced what being “in shape” truly was like. By May, my anxiety had gotten to the point where I wouldn’t sleep or eat before races. From May onwards I’d never toe the line again without tears in my eyes. I was petrified of running. My coaches had to convince me before every race that I was capable of doing something and even that was not enough. By the last race of the season I was desperate for a break. 

Cross country rolled around again and here I was stuck in this limbo where I wanted to just run and be happy but everyone’s expectations pushed me to the bottom of the lake. I felt like they were drowning me and I couldn’t free myself from it. This season wasn’t anything spectacular; I ran my PR once mid-season and every other race was mediocre. It was like a wall had blocked me from achieving my goal each and every time. I felt like the walls were closing in on me; I was trapped. And as November rolled around; I again needed some time off.

Winter brought about a lot of realizations. Although my worst season to date, it’s also one of my happiest. As some unexpected changes took place I realized what running had become for me: a chore. I felt like I had to run these things to be worth not only my coaches’ attention but my teammates as well. I realized that once all of these restraints were gone that I didn’t care at all about doing workouts or even runs. I realized that whether or not I was good didn’t matter to me. And so I gave up and quite frankly it was the best decision of my life. By the end of the season, I’d decided that it was time for me to unlace my purple spikes one final time and walk off the track never to return again.

Many don’t understand why I left, many are still frustrated that I walked away from a sport I had literally put about a thousand miles into. A lot of people believed that because I was “good” I had to be happy with it. But through it all I’ve learnt that just because you’re good doesn’t mean you’re happy. No one truly understands what I went through mentally. Its hard to explain how I felt and no one really understood me either. They figured I had no reason to complain because I was good. But looking back, I enjoyed the sport more when I was a crappy runner just trying to make a couple friends. Through it all I realized that you can’t solve a puzzle you don’t have all the pieces to. And without confidence in myself, a huge bit of my picture was missing.

It wasn’t all bad though, I gained a lot of friends that, although they may not fully understand my decisions, I’m unconditionally grateful for. They kept me going through it all, without them I would have left a lot earlier than I did. I also owe an immense amount of gratitude to my coaches. I could never thank them enough for putting up with every rant, sob story, and dream I could fit into a 2 hour practice everyday after school. They most definitely thought I was crazy at times, but I hope they never forget the short girl with the big mouth. They all mean a lot to me: they’re pieces of my unfinished puzzle and they’ll always hold a special place in my heart.

- Anonymous