Wow, it seems like the starting horn gets louder every time! Ugh, ok now it's time to run. Take it easy. Take it easy. Take it easy. You're going too fast. Slow down. This hill is hard, don't let it wear down your legs. Run slowly. Well that's a little too slow there. There we go, that's a good pace, keep it going.
Hmm, I've never been on this course before. This part looked flat from the bus, but it's actually kind of hilly. Who knew? It's okay, we train on hills all the time. Just stay towards the front of the pack, they'll know what they're doing, right?
Okay, left around the chapel. Keep this pace. This pace is perfect. Every cross country race I go faster than this pace, I end up dying on the last mile. They say "no pain, no gain" but I don't even gain everything when I die at the end, other than a bad time to add to my mental wall of shame.
What's that lake to the left there? Maybe it's a pond. Hmm, interesting. I heard something about a rabbit pond at this place. I don't see any rabbits though. I doubt they have rabbits here, they certainly don't up in Exeter.
And we're into the sanctuary. Man, these woods are nothing like New York City. In New York City, it's just buildings and sidewalks. I swear, there are more trees in these woods than there are in my entire city.
Seriously, I'm crossing a reservoir? What is this, a cross country course or a hiking trail? Gosh, this looks like the place I was backpacking last summer. I mean there's even a giant hill here now. This is where I gotta push. I gotta increase my lead on the rest of the pack now. They can't run hills like I can. Hell, I was backpacking with my dad in Northern Canada all summer.
The log cabin! The cabin is truly my favorite part of the race. It reminds me of my grandparents' home. Sure, it wasn't a log cabin, but a small little house outside of New York City where they fed us chicken and mashed potatoes and brownies. Mmm, I could go for some brownies right now. No, stop thinking about brownies, you have a race to run. You're still in like fifth place, you should be picking up the pace now. We already passed the mile mark, you don't even have two more to run. Let's go, pick it up.
Ahh, downhill. So much more relaxing. It's ironic, isn't it? That we call downhill relaxing? Everywhere else in life, downhill is a negative. When my dad's hedge fund went downhill last summer, he was miserable. And yet, I always associate the word "downhill" with relief. It truly makes no sense.
Downhill. That was the direction my life turned the day after my seventh birthday. Grandpa didn't see that truck coming. He was behind the wheel, Grammy in the passenger seat, and bam, the truck rammed into the front of them. They were both taken into the hospital. It seemed like every bone in their frail bodies was shattered to pieces. Neither one of them could breathe. It was terrible. Grammy didn't make it. But Grandpa was a fighter. Grandpa went deep into his heart and found the will to survive. "I couldn't leave you alone," he said. "I couldn't leave you without any real family." The two of us left their home and moved to a small apartment in the Bronx. I never left there until I came to Andover. I didn't want to leave Grandpa all alone. But Grandpa had three words for me. "Make me proud." Whenever he says it, I can't let him down.
Damn, an uphill! Again? Wow, good thing my lead is so massive then. Really good thing, because ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. My legs. I literally have never been in so much pain. This is not fun. I need someone in front of me to motivate me. Seriously, my whole life, I have never had someone in front of me. It really sucks being a legacy student. I can't make my own name, I can't become anything. When the guy who led the race the whole time wins, nobody cares. They just shrug and say, "yeah, we saw it coming." It's when the guy in the back sprints all the way to the front and wins it when the crowd starts cheering. I thought I could make my own name by running, something my father never attempted. But everyone still just assumes I have private coaches at home telling me what to do. And I do, but a coach can't teach work ethic. They can't teach determination. Sure, my dad's hedge fund may do well once in a while, but I asked him to hire a coach for me. Because I want to win. I want to win at something once and for all where people can't just go say, "Yeah, well he's a legacy, he's probably not even that good, he just paid his way there." You can't pay for a win in a cross country meet. You just can't.
Is that that Exeter dude up there? It's gotta be, blonde hair, red shirt. Wow, I'm in second! That's awesome. He's got a bit of a lead though, so I have to stay with him. I have to stay with him. Stay with him. Stay with him. It's only like a hundred-meter gap now, but he looks like he's hurting. He knows nothing about pain. You wanna know pain? Pain is watching your Grammy open and close her eyes for the last time ever, feeling her hand go limp in your hand. Pain is hearing your Grandpa tell you "make me proud" when all you want to do is stay by his side. Pain is knowing that the only way you have a slight chance of paying for college is if you can get a cross country full scholarship, and pain is knowing that the only way you're gonna get that scholarship is if you win this race, right here, right now. You must win this race. You must. Your entire career depends on it.
I hear breathing. It's right behind me. Who is that? Oh my god, it's an Andover runner! I gotta push. 600 meters to go. Push up this last little hill. The lactic acid is there. I feel it. This pain is unimaginable. This pain is definitely worse than anything anyone could ever experience. Ow.
He's right in front of you. He's right there. All you have to do is pass him. Come on. Pick up the pace.
He's right behind you. He can hear your short breaths. You can hear his. You have got to push. Shake him off. Shake him off. Ooo ooo ooo. Damn, why did I get that song stuck in my head? Forget it. Get away from him. You can push.
He's trying to get away. You can't let him. You are the best sprinter on your team. This is where you need to shine. Make Grandpa proud. Make yourself proud.
I might not be able to pay for a win here. But I can pay. I can pay in the steps I take, the air I breathe, the arms I flail. I can pay by pushing my body even harder to get to that finish line. That is all it takes. Come on, push. Push.
Make Grandpa proud. Make Grandpa proud.
You are not your dad. You are you. Show these people that you are you.
Brownies. Mashed potatoes. You can eat all the brownies and mashed potatoes you want once you cross that finish line. It is right there. Push! Push!
He's right next to me! Come on, I have to get away. Find something left in the tank. There's got to be something there!
Pain is not something everyone can push through. Pushing through pain is learned. You can't pay someone to teach it to you. You experience something painful, and you push through it. By doing that, you become stronger. I can push through this pain because I push through pain every day. And I will push through pain right here right now.
10 meters to go. Five meters to go. LEAN!
I dove across the line. It's not the right thing to do, but I gave it everything I had. And that's all I can do. Honestly, it doesn't matter who wins or who loses as long as I give it everything I've got. My team will be proud, whether I get first or second. The colleges will see my time and know if I am worthy. Sometimes in races, we have to lie to ourselves. We have to tell ourselves things that might not be true just to convince ourselves to push harder. That is the only way a good time will come. You learn to do that when you run cross country. You learn to lie, cheat, and scam yourself. Because in doing that, you become the best athlete you can be.
Wow, this piece really made me think! The pace of the story is urgent, and rushes along like the narrator as he runs the race; indirectly, I could feel the chaos and stress driving the runner. (Is he you? Are there multiple narrators? How many runners are telling the story of this race?) The narration starts with superficial thoughts and random flashbacks, like the ones about food, but as the memories became more and more personal, I started to see ways in which they resemble a hero’s struggles, and I think in the future, you could turn this piece into a parallel between athletes and heroes. Some questions to keep exploring: Is the pain worth it? How about for Beowulf? What motivates you to persevere when you’re struggling, and how is that similar to/different from what motivates Beowulf?
ReplyDeleteI thought I'd reply with my thoughts on this piece, and maybe that will help answer some of the great questions you posed here. The piece highlights the race of two different runners. One's thoughts are italicized and one's are in regular print. At the end, it becomes a race for the finish between those two athletes, each with their own stories and motivations to win. The narrations come from the voices inside each of the runners' heads.
DeleteIs the pain worth it? For Beowulf, I don't know how much pain he feels. Seeing him march into Denmark and announce that he would slay Grendel does not leave me thinking he feels much pain after. The slaying of Grendel's mother furthers that point. While this could lead a reader to think that Beowulf is some sort of sociopath, it could also mean that Beowulf welcomes the pain and is hungry for more. That theory coincides well with running, and this race in particular. Both of these athletes are out on the course working as hard as they can because they want to feel pain at the end. I personally don't feel satisfied after races where I didn't feel pain during and after because then I know I didn't give it my all. Running makes you put your legs in pain and then push through that pain and welcome even more. I believe that both athletes in the piece I wrote would have this mindset as they run, and I think the things the voices inside of their heads are saying prove this theory.
The question I will pose for anyone else reading this piece is how this mindset changes the significance of what is said in the piece. For example, one of my friends thought of a method of pushing through pain in athletic events where the athlete (I will assume the athlete is a straight male for pronoun simplicity but it would work any which way) thinks about a girl he likes and then pretends she has a boyfriend. By telling yourself this lie, you are flooded with all these negative emotions which can then be channeled into your legs and push you to move faster and ignore the pain. "Sometimes in races, we have to lie to ourselves. We have to tell ourselves things that might not be true just to convince ourselves to push harder." What did these athletes say that are true and what was just false information to trick themselves into pushing harder. It is clear that the athlete in the italics loved his Grammy, but did she die or did the athlete make up that scenario to give himself negative emotions to use as fuel in his push to the finish line? I personally don't know the answer, and I hope that readers of this piece will come up with their own theories on dilemmas like these.
Your comments about the connection between this piece and Beowulf really made me think about it in another angle. I wasn't really thinking about Beowulf as I wrote this, but your ideas totally make sense, and I really like them. Thanks for the input!