Personal Narrative: PAC Champions

“This is it boys, every diet, every workout, and every practice we have put forth this season comes down to this one race. This determines whether or not we are PAC champions.” My heart was beating so fast that I had a rhythmic pound in my neck. My sweaty hands had a death grip on the baton. I vigorously shook every fiber of muscle in my body, trying to release some of the tension. The only thing that kept us from being PAC champions was Gibson Southern, who maintained the lead for the majority of that meet. Our team fought the whole night to chip away at their lead, which was a measly 1.5 points. The four by four, one of the most grueling races of track, is the final race of the whole meet, and would be our last shot at gaining the title.
With the outcome of our whole team’s season on our shoulders, we marched down the last one hundred meters of asphalt. The stretch to the starting line was miles away (hyperbole), but it would feel even longer while running. The crowd rose to their feet and engulfed either side of the track. Whoops came from all directions. We were given a debriefing from the officials, but no one listened. Our bodies ached from the amount of force brought on by multiple races, but no one cared. All
That was the amount of time it took to lose feeling, and for my mind to take total control over all mechanics of in body. It was a small sliver of time that called back on a span of seven month’s worth of work. Our four by four team performed in unison to come in second place. Gibson Southern came in a very close third. My teammates and I were all given an opportunity to sacrifice a brief moment of pain in order to reap the benefits of being champions. We grew up together watching the older runners take home conference, while wondering what it felt like to have a title of our own. To win by this slim of margin, on the last race, and just being able to contribute, was the greatest amount of elation I have ever felt in my