The Biggest Race of the Season
By: Jen Foster
I was standing on the start line doing some last minute stretches when my coach warned the team that we had only five more minutes until the race would begin. My heart was pounding and I could almost smell the surrounding anxiety. I was tense and could feel the butterflies dancing around in my stomach. I could taste nothing; my throat was completely dry. I got into my running stance and stared down at my bright yellow spikes, blocking out all of the surrounding noise. The gun went off, and I flew forward with a burst of adrenaline.
The first mile went by quickly. I was in the middle of the pack, and I felt like I was making pretty good time. I noticed that the two girls directly in front of me were from Gig Harbor, and I knew I had to quicken my pace. I passed by the second mile marker and realized I had only a little longer than a mile left to go. Then I saw what I had been dreading throughout the entire race: the massive hill. I was halfway up and my body was screaming at me to stop. I remember how mentally and physically exhausted I was at this point, and I was really tempted to walk the remainder of the hill. I couldn’t let my team down though, so I pushed forward.
I made it up the hill and the gradual decline following quickly after. I rounded the corner and knew I was almost to the last stretch. I could hear people cheering loudly down towards the finish line, but I could not distinguish who any of the people were. But at that moment, that wasn’t really what was important. I felt great pain in my legs, and it took everything in me to keep going.
I saw the finish line, and knew that at this point I had to sprint if I wanted to pass the two Gig Harbor girls in front of me. As my legs slowly but surely began to move faster, I passed the Gig Harbor girls and then crossed the finish line. I looked up at the timer and realized I had beaten my personal record by thirty seconds. Regardless of the fact that I felt like I was about to pass out, I remember feeling very proud of myself. I had accomplished something I had been striving for all season long.