Crossroads

On August 23rd, 2013, I looked up the Women's Track and Field Olympic A qualifying time for the 400 meter dash. I set 51.55 seconds as my goal for the near future.

This indoor season was terrible. It hurt even more to see friends of mine do so well, it was a long time coming for them. Don't get me wrong, I'm overjoyed for them, ecstatic even. But I can't help feeling that I should be up there with them, running beside them. Instead, I'm struggling to crawl when there was a time when I could run so quickly. 

Whenever anyone asks me about my times, I could only think about high school. That's the only part of me I'm not ashamed of. The only part of me I could preach proudly about. I'm not sure where that part of me went. All I know is that this feeling, not making it back to finals in our Ivy League conference and not even being able to smell nationals, cut deep this time around. I just remember sitting in the middle of the infield of Dartmouth's track and feeling the tears pour out uncontrollably. I couldn't stop them. I was embarrassed. I felt like no one believed in me anymore and all I was useful for was a cheerleader. Now, as much as I love supporting my teammates, I did NOT come to this university, to this track team, to cheer from the sidelines. I came to run and make my mark. But I didn't do that. In fact, I failed miserably to do so. The one thing that I looked forward to, my redeeming glory-- the relay, was forfeited from me. Although it makes sense-- my teammates ran faster than me so I wouldn't be a contender-- I couldn't help feeling counted out. They didn't have faith in me anymore, and I understand why. 

So where do I go from here? I spent a lot of time not knowing how to move forward. I feel like it's too late, that if I tried to do anything remarkable, I missed my chance. I'm tired of having to stop, reboot, and begin again from the beginning, losing all previous momentum. One of my friends asked me "Are you even getting better?" No, I haven't gotten better, and that rips me up inside. I've tried to look more at the positives but those are scarce. At the end of my indoor season this year, I ran a whopping 60 seconds in the 400 meters. Sixty. Whole. Seconds. To put this in perspective, my senior year of highschool, I consistently ran between 55-56 seconds. I haven't ran this slow since my first year of running track, my freshman year of highschool. So you all see my frustrations. You all see why I feel ashamed and just plain ole low. You all see how I've blamed myself over and over. You all see me drowning. 

I don't know what's going to happen now. I do know that I NEVER want to feel the way I felt Saturday March 1st, 2014 as I sat in the middle of that oval and cried. I do NOT want to feel what it's like to see every last one of your teammates make it and all you can do is click "Like."

I don't want to sit back and say "I wish that was me." 

I just want to know that there is someone that still believes in me. Track and field is my heart and I feel like I'm dying. I feel like I'm dying. While I do enjoy being a motivator, I've found myself needing and seeking motivation. 

I can't do it all and I'm about to break. I'm praying. Lord knows I've been praying. Simply put, I need help from you guys. I just need help. 

I've been silent about my pain for too long. I just need help.