Dear Running: Whether I Sit Down Or Stand Up, I Keep On

At the end of every workout or race, I know one thing for sure: I want to sit down.

Maybe I shouldn't sit down, but I sure want to.

More often than not, my distance coaches find me lying on the ground at the finish of workouts, or during most and every cross country and track race.

Historically, they've had this to say if I'm still standing after all of that. I've asked it myself, too. 

"Why am I able to stand? Did I really just race my best if I'm still standing up?"

That thought hasn't changed in my four years of high school.

Most runners know the feeling. After finishing a hard workout or race, runners typically don't want to fight that fight -- the urge to fall to the ground. 

I guess I should start at the beginning. Running became a big part of my life in the eighth grade. I rejoined the cross country team after quitting my sixth grade season. But here's this thing: I went from hating this sport to loving it. And so it wasn't long before my feelings changed. I wouldn't miss school because it meant missing practice. That feeling motivated me to pass my classes -- better to avoid being benched due to poor grades. 

It kept me from giving up in other aspects of my life, too.

Running has showed me that good things are worth working for. This sport introduced me to a community of athletes and coaches and people who I can now call friends. My teammates have become my family.

Running has the ability to bring out the best and the worst of people, especially when it comes to competition.

There's the occasional rivalry that gets out of hand, or the drama that would be better off left at the gates of the track or the entrances to the trails. There's pride, greed, envy, bitterness, it's seen all the time in sports.

It's not always direct and verbal, but it can be seen in everyone: In the faces of not only the athletes, but also the coaches, family members and friends of those competing. 

The amazing thing about racing is that, even for a few minutes, the sounds of spikes, shoes and heavy breathing are the only things you hear, outside of the yelling from coaches, parents and cheering teammates.  In the end, everyone has the same goal: Finish the race.

But sometimes, in the heat of the moment, I don't hear anything. There's that moment where a runner is out of breath, battling the heat, fatigue, sweat dripping down their body. It doesn't matter if their coaches' voices are booming through the air -- they're in the zone.

I wouldn't call it zoned-out, zoned-in, auto-pilot or what one of my coaches likes to call 'Being in LaLa Land.' It's the battle zone. It's that place where the athlete decides whether this thing, this effort, is possible. It's the time and place of whether or not they want it and what they're going to do to make it happen.

It's the moment when an athlete decides whether or not it's 'Go time,' but the beauty is that it is always 'Go-time.' In my head, it's always 'Game-day.' Us athletes have to decide how we're going to run our race. It's our race. No one can run it for us... unless it's a relay, but that's besides the point.

That's another thing, for all you stick and ball sports people. With cross country and track and field and running in general ... we don't call our races 'games,'  because as runners, we don't go to meets to play.

We go to race and compete. Some of us have theoretical playbooks when it comes to strategizing a race, and sometimes we just go in and try to run like a bat out of... well, you get the idea.

Running is so much more than a sport. It's a community. It's a lifestyle. It's ... for better or worse. Running is where you can find beauty in the pain. It's a series of doors, and this can lead to different paths for everyone.

One thing leads to another, just like sitting down for too long after a workout or race can lead to cramps and lactic acid.

For me, cross country led to track and field, which led to discovering my love for high jump. Jumping during cross country season led me to physical therapy, where I realized I want to be a physical therapist. From there, I figured out that colleges have multi-event athletes, which led to my commitment to Anderson University.

I feel that I've been blessed with some amazing teammates and competitors who truly care about each other. Moreover, I've been truly blessed having my teammates Brooke and Ellie on the team these past few years. It's been amazing getting to workout with them and watch them progress every season.

Our teams wouldn't be the same without them. I wouldn't be the person and athlete I am today without their support and encouragement. 

And so, as this track and field season comes to a close, so does the Class of 2022's high school running careers. Yes, for some of us, there's the post season Meet of Champions, outdoor nationals and some other meets, but that's all after the end of our high school journeys. We'll be incoming college freshman at that point. 

Years from now, decades even, when this Class of 2022 goes home at the end of a long day or wakes up in the morning, somewhere, married and with children, living our lives out, whether we're looking out the window at home or driving down the streets, we will see a person running and we will remember that, many years ago, that was once us, training for the next big meet. 

I know that some of us will take a break from running, even if it's just a couple of weeks. Others might not intentionally run ever again. Regardless, for these last four years, running has been a part of our lives. Whether we enjoyed it or not, it was there. Whether we were considered fast or went to the state meets, it was there. Whether we left our mark on the trails or the tracks and fields, we know deep down that they left their marks on us.

Physically, mentally, emotionally, running has left its mark on us. You can't run from running.

For those of us going on to run or compete in college, the journey is truly just beginning for some of us. For me, growing up these four years in Gwinnett, Georgia, motivated me to chase after All-County, All-Area and All-State titles. I've earned three of each, four of All-Area and in cross country.

I was the Gwinnett County high jump champion my junior year. But more important than any of that was the team accomplishments. The girls cross country team qualified for state all four years and made the podium in 2020. Hebron's girls track team won Area all three years, placed third in state in 2019, won state in 2021 and just finished up its last year. I'm proud of my teammates and my coaches.

I have medals and titles, and so does everyone else. But I also recognize that these things are temporary. I won't say that memories are forever.

But the experience of competitively running through the woods for five kilometers and racing circles around the track has taught me more in my life than the little sixth grade version of me, who hated running.

It took patience. It took my coaches, my parents, my teammates and a lot of other people to get me to where I am today. When patience wore thin -- and sometimes it certainly would -- the love from those people would push through. That's what kept me going.

Once we get to college, the high school state titles will fade and we'll chase after conference and national titles. After college, very few of us might go pro. 

But are we ever truly done with running if it's never truly done with us?

Years from now, decades even, when this Class of 2022 goes home at the end of a long day or wakes up in the morning, somewhere married with children, living their lives out, whether we're looking out the window at home or driving down the streets, we will see a person running and we will remember that, many years ago, that was once us, training for the next big meet. 

So let's make it last. Keep standing. After all, sitting is the silent killer.

Running has been a huge part of my life, your life, and I plan to be a part of this community long as possible -- as long as it's not right after a workout or race and I'm forced to stand. 

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Kaniya Johnson: Hard work Pays Off In The End