This past week, I traveled to San Diego with the club lacrosse team for a game against San Diego State University. We arrived on Thursday but didn't play until Friday at 7 pm, so there was a decent amount of down-time before the competition. For about an hour on Friday afternoon, our coaches set up a team-bonding activity where each teammate shared a few pieces of personal information about herself; this way, we would all learn more about each other and grow closer as a team in the process. We were each given a piece of paper that contained various questions, and we took turns standing up and responding to each thoughtfully and honestly.
One of the questions that we all had to respond to was: "What is your proudest moment in sports?" Upon seeing this question initially, my mind was blank. I easily thought of answers to other questions, like, "What is the most thoughtful gift you've ever given?" and, "What three places would you like to travel to?" However, I stared at the question about my proudest moment in sports for a good five minutes and came up with nothing. I've been playing sports for as long as I can remember, so one would think that question was the easiest of all.
I realized that the reason I was struggling with this particular query was that I was searching in the wrong places. I was trying to come up with a memory that would impress my coaches and teammates, a memory about lacrosse specifically, since that is the current sport I play. I found myself grasping for a proud moment I had in the past six years I had been playing lacrosse, and while there have been countless great moments, many that I am very proud of, none stuck out in my head at first thought. In reflecting on this, I realized that instead of searching for something that would appeal to others, I needed to think of a memory that stuck out to me, a recollection that truly represented me as an athlete and a person.
A couple minutes before it was my turn to speak, I had a flashback to my freshman year of high school, when I ran cross country. I was on the freshman/sophomore team (every freshman starts out there), and it was our first meet of the season. It took place in San Francisco--Golden Gate Park to be exact. About 200 runners from the seven or eight schools in my conference lined up at the start, crowded together behind the chalky white line drawn across the grass. It was extremely foggy, wet, and frankly, miserable, but the race must go on. I remember feeling nervous and intimidated at how many people I was competing against, but I reminded myself that, most importantly, I was competing with myself.
When the gun sounded and the race began, we all took off, nudging each other to get in a good starting position. As the three-mile race went on, I got into a rhythm. I constantly stayed in the fifth to tenth position, and smiled (or tried to smile, that is) at my parents at the different spectator checkpoints. Before I knew it, I was in the final quarter-mile of the race, with two people ahead of me--one from Gunn High School and one from Presentation High School. I could see the finish line and I could hear the familiar voice of my coach encouraging me-- I knew I had to make a move to pass these girls, so I gathered all of the energy I had left and pushed through the last stretch. It felt like I was running in slow motion, but I somehow edged past the two girls in front of me, and crossed the finish line, using every last bit of effort and strength I could muster.
Winning first place in that race led to me being moved to the varsity team. We went on to win second place as a team in our sectional championship and get a bid to the state cross country championship. While I am proud of all these accomplishments, what stuck out to me most in remembering that specific race was the amount of mental toughness and perseverance I displayed, and the exhausted yet elated feeling I had as I crossed the finish line in first place. Cross country is one of the most difficult sports, in my opinion, because it is not only physically exhausting, but it is also mentally taxing. Every race requires an immense amount of toughness. You cannot walk, and you cannot quit, no matter how badly you are hurting and no matter how impossible those uphills seem. At the end of each competition, you have exerted every ounce of your strength within. Though I did not continue to run cross country after my freshman year, I learned a lot about how much I am capable of as an athlete and as a person through that one year of experience, and I will never forget my first race in Golden Gate Park.
It is easy to take for granted the opportunity to participate in athletics, especially when you've been doing it for so long, but thanks to my lacrosse coaches, I was reminded this past week of why I am so passionate about sports and competition.
