When I was in middle school, I joined the cross country team because it seemed easy, and my dad always talked about how much he loved running when he was in high school. Middle school cross country is a joke; running 1.5 mile races when you’re 12 and have all the energy in the world is a piece of cake. None of my close friends were on the team, but I still had fun.
When high school came around, I decided to join the cross country team there, too. The coach came to my middle school and talked about how much fun, and how much hard work cross country was in high school. Although I was slightly intimidated, I thought it wouldn’t be too much different than middle school. My coach even convinced me to go to a week-long running camp at the end of the summer: as she put it, “a great bonding experience with the team.”
Summer practices started and I had no idea what I was in for. I had only run no more than two miles in my entire life. When I got to practice, there were all these upperclassmen who were lined up, ready to run. I was one of three incoming freshman who showed up. That day, we ran three miles and I thought by the end of the run I was going to die. I wanted to immediately give up because running for the high school team was way harder than I thought. The team was so friendly, though, and all the upperclassmaen encouraged me to give it a chance.
By the end of the summer, it was time for running camp. At that point, I was much more prepared and had built up my endurance. I had no idea what to expect at camp, but I was the only freshman girl going. At the beginning, I hated it. Not because of all the running or activities we did, but because I felt alone. My teammates were nice, but I thought that I didn’t fit in because I was so much younger. One night, after crying on the phone to my mom about how homesick I was, one of my teammates came up to me and put her arm around me and cheered me up. From then on, the rest of the team helped me have a fun last few days at camp. Everyone was funny, and even a little weird, but we all accepted each other. That’s when I realized just how special the cross country team is. Cross country is not just a sport, it is a family.
Fast forward to the summer before my senior year, my last season of cross country. This year, I was one of the captains of the team, and I knew I had big shoes to fill. I wanted to make the team just as welcoming and fun as it was my freshman year. I wanted to bring back the family. During summer practices, I introduced myself to all the incoming freshman and made sure they felt included at practice. I encouraged them when they wanted to give up, just as my captains did for me when I was a freshman. At running camp, I had the time of my life with my teammates not only running, but being the goofy weird people we all were. When it was time for the fall season to start, I felt as though we had established the family feeling once again.
The fall was a rough time for me; college applications and other struggles brought me down at school and at home. The one place I felt stress-free however, was at cross country practice. I knew that everyone would accept me for who I was, and there was no pressure to be the best. All I had to do was be me. My last season of cross country was the best one yet. I made so many memories, and bonded with all of my teammates. The last meet, I cried crossing the finish line because I knew that was the end of being together with my cross country family.
Although I am graduated, I am so lucky to have been a part of the team. Cross country helped me realize who I was because it was such a easy going, judge free environment. Everyone was there to have fun, do their best and be a part of something great. Cross country is the sport that everyone else doesn’t understand because who would want to run for fun? We run, maybe not always for fun, but all of us have to be a little crazy to enjoy it.
