All sports require athletes to be very strong physically and mentally. Cross country is a sport that many forget, but requires both of those skills just like every other sport, if not more. This year’s Alliance cross country team has twenty-six runners including the middle school. It is looked at as a very hard sport making the numbers for the team size small, but what many don’t understand is how mentally rewarding cross country truly is.

One white line, two bright red flags, one black stopwatch. Thats what hundreds of awkward aged kids are searching to find. Teammates, family, friends yell as the thin string with rainbow flags fight to keep the pedestrians from breaking through. As the end starts to creep up, their bodies cry, but their minds must stay strong. Everyone fights at the finish. It’s a battle against two things, the person in front and the voice inside begging to stop. If this is just the finish line, where does it all begin?

Each team lines up shoulder to shoulder. With barely any room, everyone takes one more big gasp of air before the chaos begins. All the practice and miles each day all come into play, this is where it counts.The loud pop and the smoke of a gun signal to start the race. Girls scatter like colorful skittles down a slide, trying to find the perfect pace for multiple factors. One that saves just enough energy for the end, steady enough to keep the same time for each mile, but fast enough to get a personal record.

Hundreds of shoes trample over the thick green course, leaving marks that will stay for days and days after the race. Looking down, she reads the 1 mile mark painted in white on the trail. She thinks to herself, “only 2.1 miles to go.” The pace stays the same. She starts to find a rhythm with her breathing and her feet. Head held high, she strides past all the different colored uniforms. People are everywhere cheering, yelling times, handing and splashing the runners with water.

Multiple curves around giant trees and numerous leg burning hills fill the course. The sun shines through the cracks between the trees that are not connected at the top. It wraps its hands around each runner, squeezing hard until the sweat starts to drip slowly down each face. “15:00 minutes!” yells coach Lanik as her foot crosses the 2 mile mark. “Make this last mile the fastest one yet and you will reach your goal for this race!” Her body knows that the last mile is always the hardest. She wants to quit but she hasn’t made it this far for nothing. She will get a personal record. She tries to pick up her pace, but the girl in red with “Sidney” written down her back is just a few steps behind. As Sidney breathes down her neck she has to find a pace to say ahead but with enough energy to kick it into full speed the last hundred meters of the race. Sidney starts to creep ahead, then fall behind, then creep ahead. A new game is starting as the girls push each other to the finish line. One more hill to go up and then the rest is all down hill. One of the greatest feelings in the entire world. Hands reaching out to grab water for one last gulp before they dig deep for the last 400 meters. They start to speed up, faster, and faster until they are both running as fast as their bodies will let them.

Time stops as her body starts to lose control and goes completely numb. This is where it comes down to all the hard work she has put in. Every day at practice when she wanted to stop but she wouldn’t let herself. Every time her friends went out to eat fast-food and she had to say no just to keep her body healthy. Every time she craved an ice cold Dr. Pepper and she had to convince herself that water would just have to do. It all ties into the one white line, two bright red flags, and the one black stopwatch that she could see in only 100 meters. She starts to get a lead on Sidney, but Sidney isn’t walking off without a fight. So close they could be connected, they sprint as hard as they can. The crowd is jumping up and down screaming “IT’S RIGHT THERE PUSH!!” Sidney throws out her arm and falls over the white finish line just a .1 second faster.

Its all over. Beat by Sidney, she hangs her head as they walk through a shoot like cattle. The officials take her tag off to help remember what order the girls came in. Five steps feels like five-hundred but she gets out and is finally free. As she drops to the ground teammates run over regardless of the fact that their legs have nothing left from the previous races. She reaches out for water and soaks herself in it. The cool sensation soothes her red hot skin as her teammates start to help her up. Making her way back to camp, her legs start to cramp and pain pours from her face. She makes it under the bulldog blue tent to lay down when coach suddenly runs up and congratulates her with her new personal record of 24:35. Almost a minute faster than her last meet, she smiles from cheek to cheek.

Her body aches every step she takes walking back to the bus. She will be sore for the next two days, but it was all worth it for the personal record. She is completely in love with what she does and no one, not even Sidney can take that from her. She’s ready to prepare for her next meet even harder than she prepared for this one. She is a cross country runner and they are all the same. One white line, two bright red flags, and one black stopwatch; the goal is the same for each.