Relection

XC season is over.

Those five words hold so much for me.  Sadness.  Relief. 

Sadness that it's all over.  Relief that I now actually have time to do homework and not run till I collapse.

In the two months we kicked pavement together, the eighteen of us were like a giant running family.  There were so many races where I crossed the line and collapsed onto the ground and the boys picked me up and made me walk because they knew what the effects would be if I stayed lying there.  So many races where I ran up panicked and madly asked if they were all right.  So many times when we yelled ourselves nearly hoarse screaming for our teammates. 

So much we did. 

Wearing our "Drug Use is Life Abuse" bracelets and running to jamba juice together. 

Calling eachother overacheivers. 

Calling ourselves overacheivers.

Overacheiving. 

Meeting together to discuss how XC tied into a Christian life.

Scribbling XC and Bible related quotes in the back of my bible.

My favorite glitter hairband + the doorknob on Mrs. H's door = Ethan?

Seatbelts.

Running to the beach. 

Goofing around in the bus on the way to the insane meet which nearly killed us.  I swear, you could get a lot of converts by making people run 2.5 miles at Saint Michael's in the scorching heat then telling them after the regained concience that hell was like that but much, much worse. 

THE WALL AT SAINT MICHAELS. 

Hug-a-Cross-Country-Runner-Day. 

The boys swearing to kill eachother if they got one more stupid HUG!! 

Hey boys, there's another Hug-a-Cross-Country-Runner-Day on november 20.  Suck it up. 

Getting mad at peoples for "cheating" ie, cutting off the last loop on our run. 

Waiting at stoplights.

Complaining at stoplights.

Forgetting to take an inhaler. 

Forgetting the right shoes.

Not waiting at stoplights/not obeying signals/almost getting run over

Snarky jokes about the length of XC uniform shorts.

The boys forgetting that there's a lady present...

...even if that "lady" spits on the roads when she thinks nobody's looking

Me being the only girl again when my dear friend got injured =(

Me taking tons of tylanol from the office so I could run through being sick

Collapsing after races and having the boys pull me to my feet

The boys enduring me squealing after them to make sure they're okay after THEIR races

Picking pomagranates off the roads.  Telling casey that they make people powerful. 

The exhaustion and tension by our last race was huge.  We wanted to get onto those roads and just go like crazy.  Some of us wanted to get beyond our little league.  We didn't make it.  So next year. 

Though, for the seniors, this will be their last year.  Sad for me, bittersweet for them.  I'll really miss them.  We had a fantastic team captain, and his probable sucessor will be fantastic as well, but it still won't be the same.  It won't be the same without them.  We'll have to find guys to replace all of their parts.  Hear that, eighth graders?!  FULFILL THOSE PARTS!!! 

Anyway, what I'm really getting at is that thanks, you guys.  Thanks for everything  you make XC for me.  I'm inclined to think that my times improved over my previous best simply because of your support, and for making me keep up with all you dudes during practice instead of making my solitary "I'm a girl so I'm wimpy and slow" world off in a corner.  Thanks for dealing with my asthma (and my inhaler is NOT STEROIDS, and you should know who I'm talking to) and me complaining and cursing aforesaid asthma, and waiting for me to take inhalers at weird times during meets.  Thanks for making me laugh when I was nervous.  Thanks for bearing with me ranting about people eating before practice and getting sick.  Thanks for not pulling my hair ribbons (mostly.)  Thanks for singing tswift on the boat ride home.  No thanks for the dog whistle.

And thanks for everything else too. 

Except the dog whistle. 

quoting the epics...

It's very probable that whatever ones are crazy involve me and some member of the XC team.

Me: "My shirt has a death wish."

Me: "Look what running did to my toenail."
Him: "How'd running do that?"
Me: "It keeps banging against the edge of my shoe..."
Him: "That's why you clip your nails..."

Several people: "The race was fine until that last hill.  Then I wanted to throw up."

"The worst day is not what you think will be the worst day.  The worst day will be the day before that."

"We have to study THAT too?!"

"Are you interested in improving your singing voice?"

"I would have thought you played volleyball or something, not run cross country... you're so skinny how do you run so far?"

"So you even dress up for Halloween even if you stay home?"
"Yes!"
"You Americans have strange customs..."
(Or at least casey has strange customs...)
 ...

"Put on your seatbelt."
"No."
"Yes.  What if we crash?"
"We're not going to crash."
"YES WE ARE!"

"Look, Casey, I'm putting it on..."

---

"I just want to lie down."

Me: "Yeah I threw up."
Him: "You threw up?!"
Me: "Yeah then I swallowed it."
Him: "Ew."

"Cross country never, NEVER, calls for elegance." ---me

"Just sprint the three miles and ignore the pain wracking at your body.  Make it across the line."
...

Him: "...mucus."
Me: "At least YOU'RE allowed to spit it out."

...

"I have a little problem"

...

"Hello Mr. President!"

"HITLER'S DEFEATED!!!"

...

"In a cross country race, there's always one wall that if you can pass it, you can finish the race.  Life is like a cross country race.  If you can pas that wall, you can make it.  And I think that faith holds a big part in crossing that wall."

Chritian XC runners rule the world. 

<3

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