Running. Every high school sports team's punishment except for two. And those two that don't require running as a punishment? That's the whole sport. Track and Cross Country. I never ran Cross Country but I did run Track and let me tell you it's the definition of a love-hate relationship. But there are a few good things that outweigh the dry heaving, the shin splints, and back sweat, and I really do miss all of them.

I miss the way I felt at the end of a practice. I loved the way I felt when I finished a hard workout or how it felt hearing my teammates cheer me on during practice. I loved running down a hill right after I'd pushed through the pain to get up it. I loved the feeling of catching my breath after crossing the finish line after a 400 repeat. I never really wanted to go to practice, but I never regretted it.

I miss team bonding. From breakfast on Saturday mornings after long runs to making fun of the boy's team during stretching, I miss my teammates. It still blows my mind how close I am with the girls who were upperclassman when I was a freshman and how close I am with the girls who were freshman when I was a senior. I miss them all so much and I would give anything for another few hours of bonding and running gossip.

I miss winning. Don't get me wrong, I was no star athlete. My best time in the mile was just under six minute pace and I'm no stranger to being lapped. But every once and a while when we would race some "less accomplished" teams or when we would race good teams but my relay team would pull all the weight for me, we would place. It felt so good to be rewarded for something I'd worked so hard for.

Even more than winning, I miss watching my teammates win. A few of my teammates were good. And when I say good, I mean really good. Watching them train, improve, make to to state championships, and break record after record made me so proud. I still can't imagine being happier for anyone than I was when I watched them succeed.

It's been too long since I set foot on a track. Yes, it's true that my final race senior year I cried of happiness because I would never have to run an 800 ever again, but that doesn't mean I don't miss it. Sure there were some really bad times. Between falling during the second lap of the mile or practically walking the 3200 both times I ran it sophomore year, I can't pick a favorite. But there were even more amazing times to outweigh them. From watching my best friend run at state, twice, to ending my junior year season by breaking a season-long goal, I have so much to thank running for. So here's to high school running. I miss you.

Most of the time.