What can I say, I'm no Usain Bolt 
Let me start off by saying I hate running long distance. I thought I could run it out of me during off-season--I also played lacrosse in the spring--but nope. Hated it. Like a trooper I stuck with it though, until this one meet we had.
Our scrimmage that day was at Georgetown Prep, an all-boys school located all the way across town and over the state line in Maryland. They have a very large campus there (90 acres!), lots of woods and lush green expanse.
My school's long distance team huddled together before the race getting instruction and encouragement from our coaches. An average runner at best, I tried to pump myself up by focusing on the one thing I did perfectly while running: maintain excellent form. Too bad speed and agility couldn't have been part of that, but beggars can't be choosers.
Anyways, the race starts and despite my pleas that this was my first real long distance race and "Please don't leave me behind!" those hoes on my school's track team (I say that lovingly) did just that. Luckily, the distance between me and the other hundred or so runners wasn't too apparent just starting off... with all the moms and coaches at the starting point, I would have been hella embarrassed to START OFF already behind. The distance didn't grow too significant until I got the bubble guts
For my runners out there, I'm sure you're already familiar with what the up-down motion of running can do to your digestive system. I'll spare you the details--I'm a lady, after all--but I did make a serious detour from the trail to use one of the bathroom facilities. I didn't even know if the race allowed for bathroom breaks but screw it, I wasn't gonna dig a ditch and go in nature, that's for sure. Now my problem was finding a girls' bathroom on an all-boys campus...
I aimlessly followed the running trail for a few minutes until--finally!--a glint of light caught my eye in the distance. It was one of the school's remodeled buildings, its shiny glass doors illuminated by the setting sun. I ran over to that beesh with the quickness, making a mental note to keep that same energy up for when I cross the finish line. There was no ladies room, naturally, but at that point I didn't care. Luckily the building was empty and no boys were around to witness me commit this ultimate foul.
Anyways, relieved and ready to resume the race (not really), I headed back to the running trail. I saw the group of runners heading towards me a few meters away... had I been gone that long that they're already on the second lap? Guess I had. I made moves like I was trying to run and keep up with them--really, I was at that point--but eventually they passed me yet again. All 100 of them
I resigned myself to my long distance running fate and just started walking the trail nonchalantly.
After a few more minutes aimlessly wandering the running trail, I ran into some supporters. There were a couple moms and a handful of Georgetown Prep students on the sidelines, cheering the runners on and handing out water bottles. I moseyed on up to them and grabbed a bottle.
"You can do it #6!" they told me.
"Wow, you must be pretty far ahead to just be walking already!" said one of the moms.
Yeah, whatever lady. I didn't have the heart to tell her I was really dead last. So I just continued my walk, water bottle in hand.
Eventually I made it back to the starting point. The runners were coming up again from behind; to not look like a total lazy person I started jogging lightly. Moms and coaches galore were shouting encouragement from the sidelines. Even though I was dead last, I absorbed it all and pretended I wasn't
Denial is a powerful thing, I tell ya.
After what seemed like a marathon of loops running around this campus, we hit the last lap of the day. I saw the finish line on the horizon and could almost taste the sweet juicy goodness of finally being done with this mess. Before I even hit the finish line, a bunch of moms descended on me from all sides.
"You did it!" they screamed.
"You're a great runner!" said some more.
I tried to explain the situation to them--really, I did--but in spite of my breathless head shakes and explanations that, "No, moms! I'm actually dead last!" they went on and on. I think they thought my protests were ones of disbelief, maybe even humility. But nope, they were protests of admitted failure. Gotcha suckers!
Just kidding. But really, I was so out of breath and busy guzzling water PLUS trying to explain myself that all of it just got jumbled up in the post-race chaos. One of the moms got my name from my coach so it could be published in the local newspaper. Oh lord, this is getting out of hand already, I thought. I didn't catch my breath again 'til the very next day at school...
Sheepishly, I walked into my coach's office and explained the whole scrimmage situation. I thought he would be mad or disappointed in me. After giving me a quizzical look over the top of his glasses, he burst out laughing. I stood there awkwardly, hoping this was a good sign. He called the other coach in his office and we all had a nice hearty laugh about the situation. Wiping tears from his eyes, my coach said he'd call Georgetown Prep and have everything straightened out.
Whew!
Long story short, I still hate long distance running. But I must say, I was definitely in shape come lacrosse season
