Well, welcome to my broadcast. I don’t even know why I always start with “well,” but anyways, let’s move on. Today was a pretty wet day. Not because it was raining, but because I was sweating,a lot.
Today, we had a cross-country meet against Noble and a few other schools. Noble is a pretty great school, and a lot of people want to get in. Sadly, I’m not a student there. Not that I’m saying I want to be, but it’s definitely a good school, especially when it comes to sports. And today, our job was to try to beat their middle school cross-country team. I’m usually the second-fastest runner on Beaver’s team, but things didn’t exactly go according to plan this time.
After we walked the course, which honestly felt surprisingly short, I decided to use the bathroom. Unfortunately, I somehow managed to get stuck inside a porta-potty. Not exactly the greatest way to prepare for a race. Eventually, I escaped and made my way to the starting line. The guy running the meet explained that there would be two short calls: “Runners, take your marks,” followed by a blast from an air horn. I don’t know why, but that air horn always catches me off guard. Every single time.
And then we were off. Usually, you would expect the fastest runners to be at the front. Well, apparently not. At the beginning, people were sprinting like their lives depended on it. I genuinely didn’t understand why everyone was running so fast so early. Meanwhile, I was falling behind. Really badly. I kept seeing people ahead of me whom I would normally beat, and I started getting concerned. I was behind, then further behind, and then somehow even further behind.
But here’s something strange about the way I race. I always feel like I’m going to lose at the beginning. Then, little by little, inch by inch, I start catching people. One runner, then another, then another. Every time I passed someone, I felt like that was it. I couldn’t possibly go any faster. But somehow, I kept going.
Eventually, I caught up with a girl who usually gives me a lot of trouble during races. She’s genuinely fast, and every time I try to pass her, it feels almost impossible. At first, the distance between us seemed enormous. But somehow, after a lot of effort, I finally passed her. And suddenly, I was in the clear. I couldn’t see any other Beaver runners ahead of me, so I decided to push forward.
Then came the interesting part. The course had a lot of tree roots sticking out of the ground. Instead of slowing down, I decided to use them to my advantage. I started jumping from one spot to another, taking the longest strides I possibly could. I basically turned into a ninja. I skipped over roots, jumped around obstacles, and took the tightest corners I could while staying inside the course. Somehow, I managed to pass four people almost effortlessly. It was actually pretty amazing.
But then we went downhill, and five people passed me again. Seriously? Luckily, we were approaching the second lap of the root-covered section. By then, I had figured out how to handle it. I started jumping and skipping again, using the terrain to my advantage, and managed to pass all five of them back. Unfortunately, two other runners passed me afterward, and I never managed to catch them.
But the worst part was still coming. Near the very end of the race, I got a terrible cramp. And I mean terrible. The ground was covered in gravel, and I could literally see the finish line right in front of me. But getting there suddenly felt almost impossible. My legs weren’t cooperating. I wanted to sprint, but my body was basically refusing to do it. Someone passed me right before the finish, and there was almost nothing I could do about it.
I ended up in eighth place. Apparently, only the top eight counted for this meet, so technically, I still made it. Lucky me. Am I thrilled about the result? Not exactly. I definitely think I could have done better, especially without that horrible cramp at the end. We’ll see what the final team results look like.
But whatever happens, I guess I should be happy about one thing. I’m still alive. Because that race didn’t just take a little energy out of me. It took about 100 percent of everything I had.
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