I was standing on the fence looking out at the last track I would view from the perspective of a high school athlete when the thought hit me, "I was surrounded." Now, you probably thought I was going to say something generic like "it was over" or "I wish I could do it all again", but to be completely honest, that was of secondary importance. My final 3200m run had just concluded and I was happy to say that a certain satisfaction about my time running as a high school athlete in Kentucky was upon me, but it wasn't just because of me. Something much more significant had taken place in my life besides four years of races and all the side-effects that come along with running. I stood there and realized that my career was not confined to the definition of the sum of my achievements. It was defined by the things, people, and events I was able to witness and be a part of in the ever-changing timeline of Kentucky running.
There are things I've seen that will stick with me far longer than some of the things I've done. Think of the significance of that for a moment. How could someone possibly remember the time and name of another runner three years previous, but not remember their own time from a race two weeks ago? Let me show you. Here is what will define my career: A runner who can say she ended her four years undefeated by any other runner in Kentucky at the time. Period. A three time state champion lying on the track curled over after giving the last gutsy 1600m of his high school career and telling that monster blister he had that it wasn't going to stop him from going out a winner. I have witnessed an incredible young 800 runner cost his 4x800 team dearly, but use that as a point of personal motivation and comeback to reclaim what he had worked for. I was in the 3200 that saw a sophomore drop a 4:34 first mile enroute to a 9:14 and the 5th fastest time in Kentucky History for that distance. I have seen a sprinter winning the AA State XC meet...for a little bit. I have run races in every type of weather possibly imagined. (duh, we're in Kentucky). I have witnessed dynasties in every class and in track and XC rise, fall, continue, and return. I have witnessed two rival schools marching onto the XC course bringing drum lines, a student section, flags, cowbells, and even a goat head. These images, and countless others, will forever take their place in my memory right next to any specific race or trophy I have earned by my own efforts.
As the 4x400's concluded and a mass of people waited to receive their medals and be announced at the awards stand, clouds rolled overhead and covered the track. That night, the final chapters of many stunning careers had been written and set in stone. Watching from the stands, it was interesting to think of how each senior stepping off the track for the final time was interwoven into the experience of every other runner they had ever raced with or against. I thought of the seniors on my first XC team when how they must have felt 3 years ago on this day, while I had a whirlwind of high school experiences ahead of me. I thought of the freshmen now, who look up to a group of athletes now exiting the stage and how they would have to begin taking their own place in the great story that is Kentucky running. I've learned that Nike really does have it right, we all ARE witnesses. This is how anyone who has never experienced holding a state trophy or winning a large invitational can endure the pains of training, and maybe even be called crazy by his peers every once in a while, and still find the beauty of our sport and declare, "I wouldn't take it back for the world." The time I've spent on the course, on the track, and in training will not be defined by what I've done, but by what I've seen done.
I was standing on the fence looking out at the last track I would view from the perspective of a high school athlete when the thought hit me, "I was surrounded." Now, you probably thought I was going to say something generic like "it was over" or "I wish I could do it all again", but to be completely honest, that was of secondary importance. My final 3200m run had just concluded and I was happy to say that a certain satisfaction about my time running as a high school athlete in Kentucky was upon me, but it wasn't just because of me. Something much more significant had taken place in my life besides four years of races and all the side-effects that come along with running. I stood there and realized that my career was not confined to the definition of the sum of my achievements. It was defined by the things, people, and events I was able to witness and be a part of in the ever-changing timeline of Kentucky running.