The past two weekends have been out-of-town meets for the girls of the Assumption High School cross country team. Last week was the Palatine Meet in Palatine, Illinois, hosted by (you guessed it) Palatine High School. The girls who ran won the meet for the second time in a row. Many who ran in that meet then went on to run in yesterday's Great American Cross Country Festival, again taking first place. (Obviously, as I attended neither of these meets, I have no way of reporting in my usual way.) It's so strange for me personally- being a part of a team who wins so many large meets on such a regular basis. Typically at my middle school, one could expect to run in every single one of the seven races that the team participated in, almost all of which were one-on-one, save for the championship and a few others. Our team did everything together in one large group. Practice consisted of various different kinds of laps, whether it be around the school, tracks or on the stairs, and those, too, were done as one huge group. This strategy obviously didn't work for us, as we won a total of three times that I can remember in the three years that I ran for the school.
Recently I have been in a bit of a running slump. It started after the Sacred Heart Invitational, when I ran a race that I was not exactly proud of and got a time that was a good deal worse than my last, all the while believing that I had come in "dead last." Since then, my times have been consistantly getting worse and worse in tempo runs and I have fallen yards behind a group that I was once the leader of. I know that I am not the only person on the planet who has experienced this kind of thing- the coach even told me so. Since this "slump" began, I have been given a long list of possible origins for it by coaches, family members and friends. The lack of protein and iron that often goes along with vegetarianism, for one, seems plausible. Though, I must say that if this is the case, the iron and/or protein deficiency has chosen a truly rotten time to rear its ugly head. I personally worry that it's something far worse- that I've lost my will to run in some way.
To address another point, does anyone truly know what they're capable of at this point? Not yet have any of us run for as long as we can, just to see what our limits are, nor have we ever actually tested our limits when it comes to speed. I personally have always been able to run for long distances without stopping and secretly suspect that I am subconsciously worried that running as hard as I can will prevent me from being able to do so. It makes sense, given that my reputation as a runner is that of "the girl who can run forever." If I were to give that up, then what would be left? I can't be the only person out there who feels this way . . . While we're on this subject, no one has ever actually addressed the issue of social implications when it comes to running (at least that I have seen). This is most likely because there probably are none. However, in the hyperactive, paranoid, self-conscious mind of a teenage girl, there are probable negative social implications to everything from wearing a certain colored headband to school to standing with your arms crossed a crowded room. The vast majority of us secretly believe that something bad can come of everything, running included. I would be lying if I said that the mind of a teenage girl can be a handful.
So, why is it that we are constantly putting ourselves down while we're running? We know that we're doing it and we know that it can't help, so why don't we just stop? Moreover, why do we even care? It's not as though your worth as a person is defined by your split times or that the world will begin to crumble if you are the last person to complete a lap (unless, of course, the world will begin crumble if you are the last person to complete a lap, in which case I promise to purposefully run behind you). If there is truly so little at stake, at least in this stage of our careers as runners, why on earth do we always compare ourselves to others? There is almost always someone who is better than you and, unless you happen to be that person, then you will never truly be happy with yourself. Yet we continue to do so and, meanwhile, insist that others do the same thing. Even if runners choose to compare themselves to other runners, why is it that we care? Why is it that it's bad to come in last? Where did that begin and why is it perceived as being bad that one can give his or her all and just happens to show up at the finish line after everyone else?
So, as I Googled this and came up with absolutely nothing, I decided that I'd have to take a stab at figuring that out myself. Here's what I've come up with: When you're last, most of the crowds have gone away. People aren't cheering for you. You don't get your name in the paper and there's a sense of falseness when people say "good job." When you're last, you think about all the times you've thought "at least I'm not last" and realize that people are saying that about you and feeling good about themselves because they aren't you. They feel bad for you or look down on you or whatever else you're scared of. That's what it means to come in last and that's why people don't want to. It signifies failure and, when people ask about it, you then have to go on and explain your own failure. It's not a good feeling, I can guarantee that.
Well, now that that pity party's over, I've decided that I'm going to do something. It probably won't make much of a difference, but I'd like to think that it will. Thus, I implore you, world of running: appreciate the people who came in last. Don't leave before they come through and cheer for them like you mean it. Stop saying "at least I'm not last" and acting haughty around those who may have. From now on, that is what I promise to do (and I'm saying that on the Internet, just to make sure that someone out there holds me to it). I'm going to actually cheer at the finish line and I'm going to stay there until every last person has crossed it. I'm going to congratulate everyone sincerely and make sure that others don't compare themselves to others around me. I'm going to make sure that, at least while I'm around, no one feels inferior because of their time. You don't have to compare yourself to others to fact good about your time. In fact, I'm beginning to learn that doing so will make you feel even worse. Maybe I can't revolutionize the world's view of good and bad placings, but I can at least change my own. I mean, it takes talent and dedication to come in first, but it takes confidence and self-esteem to come in last.