Throughout my four years at Seattle Prep, there has always been one constant: running. No matter what was going on in my life at the time, I could always count on running being an outlet for me to escape.
Over time though, it became more than just an outlet.
No one talks about the miles no one sees – the work put in the early morning weekend practices, or the off-season training trying to run before the sun sets at 5pm. These are the times when we are tested to show up even on days we do not feel like it. Because the most challenging of times happen when no one is watching. When it is just you against you.
This is a lesson which running has honed for me. Progress doesn’t come from the easy days, and growth cannot occur without discomfort. Those days when the last thing I felt like doing was go for a run – my legs felt heavy, I was tired, it was cold – were the days where showing up mattered the most. When it comes down to it, not showing up is only holding yourself back, because in order to perform when it counts, you must put in work consistently and overcome the mental barrier telling you, “It’s too hard”.
Over time, you learn how to sit with discomfort instead of avoiding it or putting it off. Although running doesn’t get easier, it made me capable of handling hard things. Whether it was competing a difficult workout when my legs were burning, a stressful week at school filled with tests, or performance anxiety before races, running allowed me to form a mindset which allowed me to be able to handle that discomfort with greater ease.
What I did not expect was how much this sport would teach me about people.
Cross country and distance track are on a technical level individual sports, because when race day rolls around it is just you and the course. But what many do not realize, is that everything leading up to that moment is shared and done so as a team. It’s the long runs where conversations make the miles go by faster, the teammates who push you when you feel like you have nothing left, and the quiet understanding from someone beside you who knows exactly what you are going through without you having to say it.
Those miles—running side by side, stride for stride, talking through ordinary days—are where some of the most meaningful friendships I have built at Prep began.
As a senior, it is strange to think about leaving all of that behind. Although I will not remember every split or finish time—I will remember the people beside me, and what they taught me about strength and perseverance. Because even though you may run your own race, you never reach the finish line alone.