As a freshman that was fairly unathletic, I decided to sign up for cross-country, a sport that never made cuts. I “trained” over the summer. By training I mean I ran like maybe twice and I took a lot of breaks, thinking cross-country wouldn’t be hard. Boy was I wrong. I was dead last for every test we did. But I continued to run for my full four years of high school, all because of one voice pushing me, my coach.

Dear coach,

You may or may not know, but between mile repeats, you taught me more than how to get a personal best on my 5k. As a high school graduate who did not go on to run in college, many times I think back on to high school and running with you as my mentor, and as the time goes on, I realize how much you actually changed my life for the better.

To my surprise, I wasn’t drawn to cross country because I was nationals material or breaking school records, I was drawn to cross country because of the heart and soul I saw my coach put into practice everyday. Many times I would look at varsity and think, “wow, they are giving this everything they have. I hope someday I can be like them,” and as I grew with my coach I became that person.

As I grew with you by my side, I realized it doesn’t matter if you’re naturally good, what matters is how much work you put into something you love. And I worked, and you saw that and you pushed me. Everyday before a long run you would say to us “stay with the man on the bike” and everyday I told myself not to let that bike out of my view. Eventually I was able to run with you on your bike beside me, with the varsity girls.

There were times when even I gave up on myself. But you never gave up on me. You just had this presence at practice, during a workout, but especially at a race. You would look at me, point to the girl in front and say the words “catch her” and in that same split second all I could do was catch them. It was like it was my last dying wish and I needed that. Because in my eyes, doing everything you said made you proud, which meant I made myself proud.

But with this pressure come highs and lows. I can look back on times where I didn’t catch the girl, or I didn’t get a personal best, or I just couldn’t run the way you and I both knew I could. And I can truly say anytime this happened, it felt like heartbreak. You made running my life, and when I didn’t do my best it was like I failed. But I never quit because you turned these failures into motivation. To come back next time and do better.

A lot of what I learned out on the cross country course, or the track I’ve taken in and used in my everyday life. I truly believe that running for you for those years made me a better person. You made me determined to do everything I can. You made me realize failure is okay if you learn from it. But most of all you taught me how to really believe in myself and that I’m worth so much more than I say I am.

I’m constantly flooded with memories of my days running with you. The hill sprints on Ames way hill, or the dreaded eight times an 800 meter in the top of the pit. Sometimes I even hear your voice cheering me on in the buzz of the crowds at an invitational. When I’m driving around the high school I see the streets I would run daily on and all I can think about is the sound of your bike pedals and the nulled panting of my teammates as we pretend not to be tired on our distance runs.

You made cross-country my life for four years, but you also made running a part of me for life. I can’t explain to you how happy I am that I joined that team and that I stayed with it. I don’t think I would be the person I am today without you teaching me how to be through the cross-country season. I devoted my high school to your sport, and in return you devoted your time to making me a better person. I can’t even begin to thank you for preparing me for the life I have ahead of me.

Thank you for preparing me for the most important race of all: life.

Sincerely,

The freshman underdog who surprised everyone including herself