The First Year
Collegiate running. It was something I had dreamed about since I first started running, and I had worked so hard to make that dream become a reality. I had put in the work because I wanted it, I was willing to do whatever it took, and I had an undeniable love for the sport.
Going into my first year of college I had all these expectations, of how many new people I would meet, how my classes would go, how living with another person would be, and what it would be like to finally be on a team with people who shared the same passion for running as I did. I was nervous, I mean who wouldn’t be, but I was mostly excited.
At first college was a dream. I was meeting all these new people and having the time of my life. My teammates were like my sisters, I loved every single one of them, and my coach? I thought he was amazing. But somewhere along the way I was forced out of my little bubble and realized what all was wrong with what I thought was the “perfect place”. I suddenly realized that my teammates didn’t all share the same passion I did and we weren’t like sisters after all. Every day at practice was a competition, who could beat who on workout days, and omplaining about each other and our coaches on recovery days. We weren’t that close knit team we used to be...at what point did we all start hating each other? Was it the day at practice some people fell off pace on the long run so we had to run extra? Or was it the trip down to North Carolina for a last minute meet? I’m still not sure what happened but one thing we did have in common was most of us shared a common enemy: our coach.
Throughout high school I had the same coach, a coach I had known since the 3rd grade. So, to say we were close would be an understatement. My coach was one of my best friends and I felt comfortable enough to confide in him about everything. So as I was transitioning into college I wanted to find a college program where I felt I really connected with the coach and where I felt the most comfortable. Now I know what you’re thinking, don’t pick a college just for the coach, and believe I didn’t, I just thought the coach was an added bonus. I mentioned early that I thought my coach was amazing, and I really did, but then I realized we were in a “honeymoon” type stage. It was almost like he was tricking us. I can’t really describe how he was at first because honestly? I don’t really remember, but I do know the man he really is. From telling us if we were all the weight of the fastest girl on our team we would all be as fast as her (even though she’s 5’0 and I’m 5’7). To screaming at us after every bad practice and meet, and I realize most coaches yell after bad performances but this was different, he was in fact toxic. For the longest time I bought into what he was saying, that I didn’t want it bad enough, and that I was fine with being mediocre. Most nights I cried myself to sleep trying to come up with ways to be better. Until one night it hit me, I was trying my best, I was giving 100% effort every day. I had pr’ed by a minute in half from high school, I never even ran slower than my high school pr from sophomore year. I was doing all the little things after practice, I was stretching, doing core, strength training, rolling out, and icing. And that’s when I figured out it wasn’t me.
Throughout the rest of the school year I stuck with it. No matter how many times I wanted to quit, I showed up, day in and day out. Through cross country, indoor, and outdoor, I was one of the girls that were consistent. I never missed a single practice or lift and I was one of the only ones. But was that good enough? Not for my coaches. I was still told I was slow, I didn’t care, I didn’t love running, and that I would never reach my full potential. I tried everything I could to please them and nothing worked. All I ever wanted was to be accepted by them, for them to once give me a simple “good job” and it never came. I realized that if I wanted to keep running I would have to leave, if I stayed I would’ve quit like the others.
Even though the past year was brutal, I don’t regret it. A lot of things could’ve been better but in a way, I’m grateful for it. I’ve learned to not take the little things for granted, that it’s okay to do what’s right for you, and most importantly I learned how to be a good positive teammate. You never know when someone is having a rough day or debating whether or not they should quit, and knowing what that feels like is awful. Even the littlest bit of positivity can go a long way and really make a difference in someone’s life.
- Anonymous
