I lied · 6:46am Nov 15th, 2015
I said there wasn't much to say. That's not at all true.
I've been moping about ever since, and the reasons aren't exactly easy to explain.
I bet this fails pretty spectacularly (and I know what spectacular failure looks like).
This is a caption for a picture of a happy-looking Sunset that I just didn't feel like finding
So the race sucked pretty badly. Brad is our front-runner, but he got beat by five X kids. He beat all of them two weeks ago.
But then Nick looked great. He was able to keep up with Brad the whole way, which doesn't sound like much given Brad's struggles, but it's something.
Handley looked fantastic. This was easily his best race of the season, and it's a real shame it didn't bring much fruit. It's also worth noting that Brad, Nick, and Handley (and Frank) are all seniors, so this was it for them. There is no next year.
Cam also looked great and also had his best race of the season. He really grew a lot over the season, and I'm looking forward to seeing what he does as a senior next year.
Jaylen just looked burned out. The long season took a toll on him, it seems. If it was up to me, I'd cut back on his mileage next year.
Crail just looked happy to be there. Running at Regionals as a freshman is already pretty sweet.
And then there's Frank. When he passed us with about half a mile to go, his face was... terrifying, I think is how I'd put it. Anguish, misery, pain, frustration, despair, and it was all overwhelmingly familiar.
Ya see, I've worn that face before and in the exact same situation, too. It... sucks. A lot. And while I don't know exactly what he was thinking then or in the time immediately after the race, I imagine it was similar to what I felt four years ago.
I really miss that team my senior year. We had a great group of five seniors. We were really close, and even though I haven't really talked to any of them for years, they're still on a short list of people I'd call if I needed help. That's the kind of bond we had, and that's why I was so absolutely miserable at Regionals four years ago. Not only was it the worst race of my career, but it came at a time when my team needed me most. And that's all I could think about when I kept wanting to just drop out of the race. My team was depending on me, and I couldn't let them down any more than I already was. I was so completely crushed that I was in tears long before I crossed the finish line. It was so bad that I didn't look at individual results until something came up this past spring (so well more than three years later). I just couldn't bear to know exactly how awful I ran (Spoiler alert: I wasn't quite last, but I might as well have been).
It's definitely something that still haunts me today, but up until last week, most of that was mitigated by two things: Kairos and track. I've never met someone who can adequately explain Kairos, so I'm not going to pretend I can succeed where they failed. Instead, I'll just say that it gave me a chance to finally talk about just how guilty I felt about letting them all down in such a spectacularly awful fashion. It really helped move things along for track. And track was great. Despite missing an entire week just before the first meet thanks to a 103+ degree fever (that's about 39-40 for you Celsius scrubs), I was able to race myself back into shape by mid season. And at the League Meet, at my last home meet, I couldn't have asked for a better finish. I ran pretty well in the 4x800 given that I got the baton 4-5 seconds behind everyone (I almost caught up, but I ran out of gas with 200 to go). That was on Wednesday (4x800+sprint prelims+assorted field events). On Friday (rest of the distance events+sprint finals+other relays+rest of the field events), I had the 1600 and the 800.
The 1600 was first, and while I wasn't very happy with where I finished (I let stinkin' Gruenbacher beat smoke me), I did PR. It was just a classic "me" race: I hung around until it was time to kick, and I ain't got no kick. Jargon update: PR = personal record, kick = sprinting at end of race. I sometimes forget this stuff could even be considered jargon, but it's come up before.
That leaves the 800, which is only half an hour later. But the weird thing is that I loved running multiple races like this. Most of my teammates (especially the sprinters, bunch o' lazy bums that they are) tried to get out of races. I wanted to race more, and I'm a distance guy. So when I should be exhausted from PR'ing in the 1600 half an hour earlier, I'm pumped and ready to go. Admittedly, for this race in particular, I'm a little more pumped than normal. By the time the starter is going through "On your marks," and whatnot, there are only three thoughts in my head: 1) Top 3 get podium, and I really want that podium 2) This is my last race on my home track. I'm gonna make it count 3) I'm running for them. Regionals was still heavy on my mind, and it fueled just about everything I did at this point. I trained so it would never happen again, I raced to prove it would never happen again, and I read ponyfic just to get away from it all for an hour or two.
One of my favorite things about track and cross country (and swimming, I guess) is that a lot of "winning" or "losing" isn't necessarily about coming in first place or medaling or making the podium or whatever. These are timed events, so "winning" can be very personal and be something like PR'ing. It provides a fairly objective way to measure progress (cross country can get a little dicey because some courses are fast, some are slow, and you can't forget the times it rains and the course gets super muddy). This 800 was an excellent example of that. I did not finish in the top three to get on the podium. I did not medal. I did, however, PR. And more important was how I got there. I mentioned earlier that I ain't got no kick. My finishing speed is literal butts. But this race was different. With 200 to go, I felt myself falling off and slowing down. It only took a second for thought #3 to completely take over my entire body, and, well, I found some finishing speed. I kicked like I'd never kicked before*, and while fuck those particular three hundredths of a second, passing out across the finish line remains one of my proudest and happiest moments. I remember my thoughts when I woke up, and they weren't "Did I get him?" They were, "I did it. Guys, I did it."
*I wanna say Rieskamp was a good 30-40 meters ahead of me with 200 to go.
So while Regionals does still haunt me to this day, and while I do have regular thoughts of, "Well, what if..." and so on, it's always tempered by, "But then track. But then that 800." I'm not quite if it's a happy ending, but it's something, and I have it.
Frank doesn't have that yet. And I can remember pretty clearly what it was like for me when I didn't have a, "But then." I remember what it was like when I didn't even practice to channel all that guilt and frustration into. When I wasn't spending every day training to never let it happen again. It sucks. A lot. And I could see it all so clearly in his face.
Frank did a lot better of a job than I did of holding in the tears, but other than that, everything was the same. So when most of the kids were gone, I went over to talk to Frank 1-on-1.
"I've been in your shoes before." Son of a— My lips are already trembling. "It... sucks. A lot."
"Yeah." I don't even know how he's holding it in. Geez.
"And there's really not much you can do about it. Not right now, anyway. It just... sucks. A lot."
"Yeah."
Yeah, this is about right. I clearly remember just wanting to go home and drown in the shower or something. Oh, are those tears in my eyes, too? Geez. "All you can really do is stew. Just go home and stew for a couple days." He nods. "Heh, I remember being 'sick' the next two days of school. I just couldn't bear to go back. So if you need to take a day off..." I just encouraged a kid to skip school. That sure wasn't in my job description.
There's an awkward silence before, "The only thing you really can do is channel it all for track. And not just for yourself, but for them."
"Yeah, I wouldn't have finished if it weren't for them. They're the only reason I finished."
Well, I think that about does it. He probably just wants to get out of here as quickly as he can, anyway. "Well, you take care, Frank."
"Yeah. You gonna be there for track?"
"Yeah, that's the plan."
I swear I almost see him smile. "Alright." He starts walking off, but then he turns back for one final thing. "Thanks, Coach."
It's not until I sit down in the car that it hits me. "He called me Coach. Not Cardinal. Coach." And in spite of it all, I manage a smile.
Well that was awful. Oh well.
Four years ago, one thought dominated my head. Now here I am with almost the exact same thought.
It's gonna be a long month and a half before track starts, and then it's gonna be a long track season, but I'll be damned if I'm not gonna whatever I can to make sure Frank gets his happy ending.
In the meantime, I'm experiencing all sorts of emotions I haven't felt in four years, and I'm imagining all the things Frank is feeling, and we didn't make State, and it all sucks. Excuse me while I continue wallowing and moping. Or something.
As a bonus: Enjoy two pictures of my laptop in its current state.
*Hugs tightly* I'm sorry dude. We're here for ya if you need us. I know we may not be able to relate as well, but we care.
Sorry to hear, yeah. While I did run, we never quite got to that level, so while I can't fully relate I can at least empathize.
I dropped out 15 minutes before my final 5k of high school, just a few weeks ago. I am very scared that I didn't make the right decision. My gut tells me I did...
Wish my gut would shut up though. It's the reason I had to drop out. I've got some kind of injury down there that's been killing me for weeks. Been running around to doctors, specialists, and now a surgeon just to find out what's wrong. And yet no progress has been made- I still have no idea what's up with my stomach.
All I can hope for is that it's fixed by track season, and that I can manage a workout routine until then.
3545239
I don't exactly know what it feels like to get injured senior year. But I was definitely affected by that situation my junior year.
Our #1 guy broke his leg the Wednesday before State meet. We went from easy favorites to 12th. I know one or two of the guys were even so demoralized that they didn't wanna run the meet at all. He came back during track and finished 2nd in the 800 and anchored our winning 4x800. I expect similar things from you, Mr. Shipmun