shower realizations.

9:21 am1

Coach Elliott has LOST HIS MIND2

OK. So this morning was our first Saturday run. Or at least our first after the dead period. The fact that I couldn't get to sleep last night--until 5 am, at least, and i woke up at 6:45--bears no relation to my (formerly) cheerful mood towards running and PEP and the world in general.3

We met at Seneca at 7 am. Gibson, Nancy, Summer, Thomas, Amanda. We all did our PEP, which nearly killed us (an HOUR of random exercises and running back and forth in various ridiculous fashions--to prevent injury and increase agility) Then coach cheerfully says that Gibson and Amanda should run two-minute intervals on the mile loop. And that the rest of us should run the course, 'at a slow, leisurely pace.'4

Leisurely, my ass. We ran it at what would have been considered at the beginning of last season (for me) race pace. We ran an Indian run for the first mile. I'm feeling tired, but hey, i can do it. I've done it before and i sure as hell can again today.5

Then Coach starts saying things like 'Surge around this turn! Keep surging!' and 'run INTO the hill, SURGE up the hill and over the crest' and 'SURGE down the hill!' and he's running fast like the short buff ex-marine he is. Thomas has been lagging behind for a while, seems to be walking, looks like he's about to pass out (this was his first practice EVER, and coach probably scared him off--hell, i was almost scared off and we know how much i love the sport). Coach keeps on with his ridiculous surging until I'm the ONLY one surging with him. We haven't got to the hill yet, so disregard those remarks. We're surging around blind turns (and there are a lot) and I'm the only one doing it and i feel like I'm about to die, but that's normal and I'll run through it and feel fine like always.6

So here we are at the hill. I'm scared sh*tless, but i know i can do it. Then coach starts his crazy 'SURGE up the hill' and proceeds to SPRINT up the hill (and the Seneca hill is a bitch. long downhill, steep uphill, hairpin turn, steep downhill and long uphill). I fall behind on the hill, almost but not quite keeping up. Nancy passes me on the hairpin turn, but I'm still ahead of Thomas and it's a downhill, i OWN those....So downhill was nice, i didn't begin to feel nauseous until the last uphill, when coach is saying surge and jogging in place while girls pass him and don't, note this, DON'T puke. I pass him. I jog a little further. I get halfway to the christmas tree turn. I gag, nothing comes up, i keep jogging for a few feet. I'm not running anymore, but jogging is ok. I lean over, kinda blacking out, and proceed to puke.7

Five times. Since I'm kinda blacking out at this point, i don't remember to be careful and not get any up my nose. So i finish. Wait, nope, one more. Ok. Coach is coming up behind me and making sure I'm done and saying 'hey sweetie, just jog to the tree for me, come on, you'll run it off, can you jog?' i puke once more in response. Just for good measure, I gag, but don't puke. Coach says to the gathered runners who are waiting for us at the christmas tree (after asking me if i could run or if i needed water. I enthusiastically said 'water!') that Thomas should walk me back to the bathrooms to wait for us (or, as it turned out, i should walk him back), and the rest of them (summer and Nancy) should run on with Coach and Withers.8

Thomas and i stagger and snort, respectively, our way back to the restrooms. I'm feeling good, i think i ate something bad or something because i felt better as soon as i threw up. We're supposed to be walking around, to keep loose, but we're both like fuck that. So Thomas and i are joking, I'm telling him horror stories of cross country races, and why coach is nuts to do this hard a workout on the first day and funny little anecdotes on what it looked like when i blew my nose on the toilet paper, since the damn bathrooms didn't have paper towels or tissues. These volleyball people are blasting some terrible pop music and we're laughing at it and recovering. They get back at about 8:40. We walk to a picnic table and have some sickly-sweet gatorade and also some graham crackers. I called my mom at 8:41 and said come pick me up. I then had some gatorade and coach takes us to stretch on the tennis courts. We stretch (thoroughly), then we do 15 push-ups (this is post-puke, mind you) and 25 sit-ups.9

As we're walking back to the picnic table of gatorade and cell-phone fame, mom call my cell phone. Evidently she had called twice and was freaking out because she couldn't find me. I apologize and try to direct her to where we are. She gets there. I get in the car. We leave. I talk about how crazy Coach is. She says i shouldn't run. I say i should. We argue about this for a little bit, then i convince her that it is MY decision, and i want to run cross country. I don't want to give up because we had a hard day.10

Then we get back here and mom bitches about how she's going to be late for work and she has to shower etc. I tell her to shower first, and as she does i write this. I'm not complaining, i should have run more this summer. But Coach is nuts.11

I love you all. I need to go wash the taste out of my mouth and get the remaining puke out my nose. Oh, how bad it smells.12

Lovelove13

Issy14

10:34 am15

I just took a shower.16

A long shower.17

I realized that i am the girl i wanted to be last year. I appear confident. I feel somewhat so. I listen to music that means something, have intelligent conversations with people i love. I don't let myself have an excuse from doing what i have to. Last year, a large part of the reason i didn't do so well in cross country was because if i had a bad day, or just a hard course or whatever, I couldn't stop thinking how easy it would be to stop. And a few times i did. A few times I fell and stopped or tripped and stopped or stopped, clutching my side and gagging. None of that was necessary.18

This year, i told myself i wouldn't let myself slip into the ease and comfort that comes with weakness. I will not let myself stop running. I will not let myself break down. I will not let myself go insane. I will not let myself have a nervous breakdown and cry. I will not let myself become hysterical. This will be the last time, today, that i will let myself show that weakness. I realized in the shower that i have control. I could have kept running. If it were an important race, you bet your ass i could and would have wiped my mouth off and ran to the finish. But it was a practice. I didn't want to make myself give that much. It's not good to do that. But i could have, if i had needed to. Hell, if it was an important race, I'd have kept going even if i broke a bone (as long as it wasn't one i was using--i.e. not my leg. Preferably wrist. or finger.)19

I will treat every race as though it's regionals. I will not stop. I will treat every important thing i do--as in classes and sports and jazz band--as something that should be done and i will not allow myself to think of the possibility of stopping or giving in.20

Mind you, if it's unimportant, I'll try and then give up if it's hopeless. Or i may just dismiss it as pointless.21

I realized that i can do this. I am the girl i wanted to be last year. The willpower that i put into being anorexic i now turn towards being. Towards existing in a forceful and non-stagnant way. There are twenty-four useable hours in every day. I will, i am using them.22

This is the last time you'll hear of me crying. And I will stop now.23

Issy24