Finals, year 2

For the second year in a row, I have the damn outside lane. Whatever, I guess 12 is my lucky number now.

The waiting is the worst part. My race is at 3:40. I wake up at 9 to go for a shakeout run.

It feels just awful.

I stretch after 10min, enjoying the morning. Or trying to.

10 more minutes of jogging. Feels better.

It's noon, and I've stomached the last thing I'll eat today. The waiting is definitely the worst part.

I sit around my dorm room. I stand up, it's 1:30. I walk around. Sit back down. Stand up. Lay down. Drink water. Shake legs. Stick legs. Sit up. Screw around on the internet. It's 1:35.

God dammit.

After trying to stay mentally calm yet anxious at the same time, I finally decide to walk down to the track at 2:45. I get my number from the infield, and a little after 3:05 I get my 3 other teammates to go warm up.

My heart is racing no pump up music today thats too much wheres my softer stuff? just calm down, you'll do fine you dont even know how fit you are just calm down calm down calm down

I don't need as long of a warm up today as I did my shakeout earlier. 12min should do fine. I find a spot in the shade, alone to stretch

20min to go, start your active stretching

I'll be told later that I look like a mix of fear and anxiety

10min to go, walk down to the infield, start your strides.

I feel loose, quick. Like my regular running shoes are weighing me down.

7min to go, spike up.

All my warm ups are gone except my longer shorts over my track shorts, which will stay on until the very last moment.

In a line, the 24 individual legs shake out like a reverberating wave. All 12 athletes are being told instructions, and all 12 are ignoring them. They've done this countless times.

The gun washes away every thought.

I glance over and pick my spot, settling into 3rd place around the turn. The man who has chosen to take the race head on early has my blessing, and when he moves I move around 3rd and settle into 2nd. 64 first lap.

Unbenounced to me, the rest of the field hadn't followed us that tightly. While the leader and I went through in 64, the rest of the field went through closer to 66, jostling.

Coming up to 2 laps to go I am confused. The pace has slowed as the leader is tiring slightly, and I'm very, very comfortable. With the 5th fastest PR in the field, the only words I can manage to form over the dull shouts of the crowd are

Where the fuck is everyone. 2:09/10

The pace is slowing and I know a move will come soon. I brace for a move, and it comes on cue. With 600m to go, my 3 teammates fly by at a much quicker pace.

The race has started. REALLY started.

400m to go and I am right behind my 3 teammates who have taken to the forefront, shadowed by one other runner.

There are 5 now, with 2 more only a step off the pace 3:12, a 62 for that last lap for me, closer to a 61 for them

300 to go I have more I have more give me an opening something anything THERE

A spot opens on the inside and I take it, sliding into a dead heat with another runner for 2nd, behind my teammates who has taken first sprint for home.

I'm tiring but they have to be too

I push, and the three of us for a gap on the re-forming pack behind us.

150m to go and I'm gapped in both directions as I start to fade. 100m to go and I just grit.

get 3rd get 3rd get 3rd holy fuck get 3rd

I stave off an attack from a faster peer, and make it. 3rd. A shade over 3:59, 46.x for the last 300m.

The commotion is....loud. The race definitely shook some perceptions all across the board, and was probably exciting to watch that last 300m. I was told that all 7 came back into contention with 250m left.

3rd gives me 1st Team All-Conference. First time I've been first team, I can add it to my two 2nd Team awards.

Slowly, slowly I climb.

Delayed gratification is the best gratification.

The place is set, now it's time to go chase some times.

Prelims, year 2

Despite my incessant requests, I was put in the 1500m instead of the 800m for the conference meet, despite really only running it once (a week ago). I ran a 4:01 training through, which threw me up at 6th on the conference lists, one the guys ahead of me is a 5k+ guy so he won't be running it. For all intents and purposes I sit at 5th.

Luckily for me, the 1500m is far weaker (depth wise) than the 800m, so making finals won't be overly difficult, it's just scoring better than 5th over 4 people who are 3+ seconds ahead of me, while simultaneously watching my ass for the 2 guys less than a second behind me.

On the line, I'm nervous. Really nervous.

I know I will likely qualify, but I still am afraid I'll mess up somehow. Step on a rail, get outkicked, make some sort of blundering mistake.

In finals, I never have these thoughts, it's just in prelims. It's just in races where to not qualify means that I have to screw up.

The gun signifies a literal walk from the line. We go through the first lap in a 74. 7.4. What's going on, that's unheard of.

The leader starts to roll back the pace - slowly. We go through 800m in 2:20. A 66, still a joke.

With 400m to go, there are 6 guy still in contention. Top4 auto qualify

If the pack is still tight with 300m to go, my coaches words echo in my head
surge so that you don't have to rely on your kick which will tire you out for tomorrow

I fly around my teammates on the bed, pointing at my chest as I go by, signaling to them in frantic bursts of words ME, ME, ON ME

Our stronger guy is doubling back, and I would rather be the one to push the pace than have him do the work. We come through the 3rd lap in 3:22, a 62 for the 3rd lap, and yet the group is still there.

I push down the back stretch and around the turn. With 100m to go, there are 4 of us separated from the rest, two of my teammates alongside me as we stroll into the finish.

Check back is someone there? close but not that close. slow down. slow down. too much, taper, taper

And the oddest 4:10 I've ever run is done, and I'm into the final.