Queen City Striders,Cumberland,Md
"A Simpler Time"
Guest Columnist: Colby Smith
Allow me, if only for the next few minutes, to take you back to a simpler time. A time before games killed Facebook and Billy Mays still graced those Mighty Putty commercials with his presence – the distant past of November 2008.
It was during these ancient times that yours truly was concluding his high school cross-country career. Once every season for four years I hauled myself up The Dip at Hereford High School’s celebrated cross course. But never had I performed such exertion at the State Finals. Never, that is, until November 2008. After a glorious team performance at the regional meet, I was elated to even be competing in the state meet for the first time. Adding to the joy, I finished my final race as a high school cross-country runner with a PR on the Bull Run course. I could not have asked for a better way to go out.
The 2008 State Meet was indeed bittersweet for me. On one hand, I could smile at the fact that I had just concluded a truly fantastic career on a wonderfully high note. Now, when I describe my career as “fantastic,” I in no way assert my own superiority as a runner. Look up my times. You won’t be too impressed. Nevertheless, I loved every minute I spent with my team and my coaches. That hideous beast of a hill at Hereford meant something. We did not simply survive the torture; we survived together. None but your fellow runners could understand the bond, making all that more special.
But what then? I had run out of races to run. When I crossed that finish line for the final time, running became a personal endeavor, rather than the structured sport I had known. Throughout the remainder of the school year and into the summer, it was up to me and only me. As I continued with the sport, going to practice became more about being there for the team than personal fitness. Now, I have no team to support, no coach to trust.. I decide when and for how far I run…. How do I do that?
Last summer, I had a conversation with a former teammate. She seemed to feel that running was much more enjoyable now that she could just relax and escape the pressures that normally accompanied off-season training. Personally, I found the opposite to be true. I found myself considerably less motivated. Why, you ask? Because running alone sucks.
Perhaps having fantastic coaches and teammates up until this point in my running career has spoiled me, but I just can’t get the same enjoyment out of running all by my lonesome. Sure, I’ve found fellow runners in college, but finding a time during the week to run that doesn’t conflict with classes, homework, and meals is rather difficult. The only solution is to run alone.
Running competitively meant a great deal to me in high school. No matter the day I had, running with the team could cheer me up. Now, I squeeze a morning run in between throwing off the light covers and going to morning classes. That therapeutic effect is completely absent. Of course, I still enjoy it. Otherwise, I’d sleep in a little while longer. Still, running as a college student is a completely different beast. In fact, it’s a beast that I have yet to completely understand. I’m getting there, though. Once my Moonshine 10K times start coming down, you’ll know I’ve mastered leisurely college athleticism.
Guest Columnist: Colby Smith
Allow me, if only for the next few minutes, to take you back to a simpler time. A time before games killed Facebook and Billy Mays still graced those Mighty Putty commercials with his presence – the distant past of November 2008.
It was during these ancient times that yours truly was concluding his high school cross-country career. Once every season for four years I hauled myself up The Dip at Hereford High School’s celebrated cross course. But never had I performed such exertion at the State Finals. Never, that is, until November 2008. After a glorious team performance at the regional meet, I was elated to even be competing in the state meet for the first time. Adding to the joy, I finished my final race as a high school cross-country runner with a PR on the Bull Run course. I could not have asked for a better way to go out.
The 2008 State Meet was indeed bittersweet for me. On one hand, I could smile at the fact that I had just concluded a truly fantastic career on a wonderfully high note. Now, when I describe my career as “fantastic,” I in no way assert my own superiority as a runner. Look up my times. You won’t be too impressed. Nevertheless, I loved every minute I spent with my team and my coaches. That hideous beast of a hill at Hereford meant something. We did not simply survive the torture; we survived together. None but your fellow runners could understand the bond, making all that more special.
But what then? I had run out of races to run. When I crossed that finish line for the final time, running became a personal endeavor, rather than the structured sport I had known. Throughout the remainder of the school year and into the summer, it was up to me and only me. As I continued with the sport, going to practice became more about being there for the team than personal fitness. Now, I have no team to support, no coach to trust.. I decide when and for how far I run…. How do I do that?
Last summer, I had a conversation with a former teammate. She seemed to feel that running was much more enjoyable now that she could just relax and escape the pressures that normally accompanied off-season training. Personally, I found the opposite to be true. I found myself considerably less motivated. Why, you ask? Because running alone sucks.
Perhaps having fantastic coaches and teammates up until this point in my running career has spoiled me, but I just can’t get the same enjoyment out of running all by my lonesome. Sure, I’ve found fellow runners in college, but finding a time during the week to run that doesn’t conflict with classes, homework, and meals is rather difficult. The only solution is to run alone.
Running competitively meant a great deal to me in high school. No matter the day I had, running with the team could cheer me up. Now, I squeeze a morning run in between throwing off the light covers and going to morning classes. That therapeutic effect is completely absent. Of course, I still enjoy it. Otherwise, I’d sleep in a little while longer. Still, running as a college student is a completely different beast. In fact, it’s a beast that I have yet to completely understand. I’m getting there, though. Once my Moonshine 10K times start coming down, you’ll know I’ve mastered leisurely college athleticism.