The other day, I get an email saying that I was tagged to a picture. One of my 4thgrade classmates posted a picture of our 4th grad class at the state capital. The first memory that came to my mind was recess time (I really want to give Mr. Lawry the credit for me wanting to run track). Before recess we would walk to the side of the building and Mr. Lawry would line up the class and he would race all of us to the edge of the building. I loved it. I loved racing.(Everyone remembers the foot races they use to have at the skating rink. I use to enjoy that more than actually skating). If you know what it feels like to do something better than everyone else, then you know how I felt when I destroyed everyone in my class.
Rounding out elementary school and entering middle school was a little awkward for me. I didn’t think I fit in anywhere (the only place I felt I fit in for real was in the country at my grandmother’s house). I felt like no one paid me any attention. Felt like I was just drifting through my life. So in 7th grade I joined the outdoor track team (should have done indoor, but I was reluctant to join the team). I went out thinking that I was going to be the best athlete out there. I wasn’t. I seriously doubt anyone paid me any attention. I wasn’t a stand out runner. My dad helped with that. He had me up everyday running at least a mile, some days with dumbbells and ankle weights. He always wanted us to be the best that we could be. So the next year when I went out for the indoor team, I was not only stronger, but I was faster.
Apparently I still wasn’t fast enough, so Coach Barnett pulled me over to the side and told me that I wasn’t going to be fast enough to hang with my other friends and wanted me to try hurdles. That day was the introduction to my new life. 
Running track became awesome. I would describe it like after Peter Parker was bitten by the spider and found out that he could do some pretty cool stuff. Track was my purpose, my confidence, my acceptance, my heart, my pain, my joy…. Track became my passion. I use to go to school feeling like a no body. I was another student in the halls. Once I found my niche in track, I didn’t care that I was ignored by everyone who thought they were better than me, because I was respected by the ones that knew what I was capable of. It was kind of funny.
Running track became awesome. I would describe it like after Peter Parker was bitten by the spider and found out that he could do some pretty cool stuff. Track was my purpose, my confidence, my acceptance, my heart, my pain, my joy…. Track became my passion. I use to go to school feeling like a no body. I was another student in the halls. Once I found my niche in track, I didn’t care that I was ignored by everyone who thought they were better than me, because I was respected by the ones that knew what I was capable of. It was kind of funny.
I loved running. Track helped me accept my feelings and gave me an outlet to express them. Running helped clear my mind everyday. Sometimes it felt like I was running away from my past, but I was really running toward my future. Running gave me hope. I felt free from everything I struggled with. It was the greatest feeling in the world, even when I was completely out of breath and cramping up. When my muscles were so sore I thought I wouldn’t be able to walk the next day. It just helped me deal with a lot of things, mainly my aggression. I even thought I’d run forever, until I pulled my muscle and had to go through rehab. That was the first time that I felt vulnerable as a runner. I’m glad Ihad some good trainers; they helped me through that injury and kept me focused and encouraged.
Gevar and I talk about high school track all the time.Those were the best times of my life. The victories and defeats, the trips, the hard practices, everything about it was a great experience. When we go down memory lane, I find it funny how I felt more respected and accepted by guys from other schools than I did from most people at my own school. I was glad too, it kept me humble.
I was happy with running until I went to college. It was fun until I kept getting hurt. I think my first season waswhen I started to get depressed. It wasn’t the same anymore, I just felt like I was getting pushed out of my world, and I was. I spent every year worrying about who was going to come in and replace me. I had never thought like that before. I would think about the day when I got a phone call from the coach telling me that they didn’t need me anymore but I could still come out and practice. That day came too. They released me. The team replaced me with another runner. I guess I don’treally blame them. It’s about money anyway and I couldn’t put up the times they wanted. Why not? I would do the same to anyone if I was in charge. It just feels different when it’s you. When I left, no one cared anymore, I half expected them to, after all they were still doing what they enjoyed. I had finally woken up from my wonderful dream. I knew it would end one day, but I didn’t imagine it would end like it did. After I was released from the team I felt like I had to search for another means to feel like I existed. I wanted to find another purpose, but everything reminded me of track. Hell, the only reason I was at that school was because of track. I was laid off with no severance package. It was a terrible feeling. I just wanted to fill the void in my life, but what I chose to fill that void wasn’t something I was really dedicated to. Not like I was with running.
Eventually I didn’t even want to run anymore. Running made me think about track. Running wasn’t as relaxing as it use to be. I started to get moody and eventually it all started to go seriously bad. I came home for the summer and my dad encouraged me to get back to what I use to love to do. He believed that it would help my mentality. It had been a while since I got up at 5 and ran. That first day was TERRIBLE. I did take a complete year off. So it was hard. I toughed it out though. All the memories came back: the pain, the joy, the freedom, and the appreciation. I kept this up for about a month and I started to feel better about myself and everything around me.
The last day that I actually ran or stepped foot on a track was 2 years ago, the day after an old teammate died. I don’t know why I don’t run anymore. It’s not because of his death. I think it’s come down to the fact that I have no desire to do what I loved to do anymore. One day though, one day soon, I’ll get up and relive those memories again and come to terms with the fact that Ican’t go back to the past. I can’t take back what I lost.But I can’t run toward that future. If it’s one thing I learned from running, it’s that I can’t do anything about what I did or didn’t do yesterday, but I can do my best today.
Make your day today and stop putting off the things that you love because of the setbacks you experienced in life.Regret is never a good look
-VP
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