For a long time, there has been a mantra I have run by - When the conditions are seemingly unsurpassable, imperfect, or entirely intimidating.
Winston Churchill said at the conclusion of the evacuation of British troops from the Island of Dunkirk, that his countrymen “must be careful not to award this action the attributes of a victory.” He went on to demonstrably claim “Wars are not won by evacuations.”
I’ve repeated this to myself many, many times. It may seem impertinent or illogical in running, but for me it has always enabled me to muster a current of confidence, that has been able to sweep down the mightiest walls of adversity and challenge.
I really can’t remember all of what happened today; I raced in the New England Conference Championships (NE10s), the culmination of a seasons’ work, all reduced to a single autumn morning. What I can tell you is that as of 8:00am this morning, I was not intent on running it. Then something happened.
I had run a warm up on pavement in the pre-dawn hours, and got lost in a foreign city, running longer than I planned to, on a surface I ought not to have been on.
I stayed up too late the preceding night, mainly running discussions with team members.
Then I got to the field, and ran a warm up with a good friend who was in a degree of pain which dwarfed mine.
I then returned and put on the bib number I had previously discarded in the trash bin, thinking I wouldn’t use it- Straightened it out, hastily pinned it on, and walked to the starting box.
The rest really isn’t that clear. I know I was in arguably the greatest cardio-respiratory pain I have ever been in. I ran the course fully, and lived it intensely.
Perhaps most unclear about this experience, was the end. The finish line seemed so far – As far as Boylston Street on Marathon Monday. When I crossed it, I had nothing in me. I felt lifeless, yet I managed to stay upright. Then a friend came and embraced me with water, and several other fellows did the same. Then I just broke down, couldn’t think, couldn’t speak, just needed to walk, and flush myself out physically and emotionally.
I can unequivocally say, that Cross Country is the most taxing of all sports. It requires only the apex of virtues: courage. Courage, (as Churchill stated) is the only virtue that assures all the others. Courage can surmount pain. It can send fourth the ripple of hope into the most ignominious and dark of endeavors, which builds that current that DOES build a current of confidence, that has been able to sweep down the mightiest walls of challenge and odds.
If I learned one thing from today, it was that I continue TO LEARN. Because if you asked me why I went against every preconception, every ounce of conventional wisdom, and every iota of logic in my being, I still could not tell you.
This is the truth of believing in cross country.
