Shoes missing, hair in a messy ponytail from the night before, and butterflies in my stomach. I scramble to make it to the car on time for the big day. I try to make it stop, stop eating me from the inside out. Negative thoughts fill my head thinking about what if I can't? What if I'm not good enough? What if colleges don't want me? What if I fail? I put my headphones in to drown out the noise. The thought of this mindset holding me back in the race scares me even more. I need to do good and if I don't what's the point? I eat my peanut butter filled sandwich and a banana, even this fills me with fear. If I eat too much I will throw up, but if I don't eat enough I'll starve.

Pulling into the packed parking lot where people weave in and out of the way of moving cars, I remind myself I've done this before many times. The what-ifs seem to fade a little. I walk up to the tent and plop a spot on the wrinkled tarp. Everyone else seems to be having fun around me while I force headphones into my ears. The blasting music reminds me of what I'm going to have to do and that I'm going to have to be tough. I can't help to ask myself if I really want to be tough. Before I know it we are warming up and making sure we know where all the bad footing is. An aroma of coffee and apple donuts fill the air. I hate meets like this. The smell makes my hunger linger as I tie my spikes until I can't feel my feet.

Hundreds of people standing behind a line all facing one direction. An aroma of putrid shoes and sweaty uniforms fill the air from a few teams over. I scan the edge of the course where all the fans have congregated, looking for familiar faces. Eventually, I reach a sea of purple. I can point out the short, arrogant looking figure. He's wearing a sleek white hat backward to seem cool, but I know this front is to distract from the ugliness inside. Shins lined with tape give me a reason to feel bad as I go back and forth in my head over whose fault it was. I think to myself, maybe it was miscommunication, but I know he had no remorse. He wants to see me fail, but I won't let him. I focus back into the place where time stands still and for a few seconds all I can hear if the faint yells of the enthusiastic crowd. My beating heart feels the urge to leap out of my chest, knowing what is to come.

Everyone erupts as does the gun and we are off. I think to myself there is no going back now. Shortening my stride as I stomp up the hill, I realize I need to go. As people pass me on the descending ground, my confidence fade. My coach, a short man yelling from the sidelines, tells me to get up with the next pack. Him saying that gives me a rush of energy. I force myself to the next group and then the next until I was alone. Taking the lead I keep telling myself to be strong over and over. I round the corner into the final straight away, the crowd goes insane as I give everything I have left. Crossing the line feels like a new beginning. I lay on the ground at the finish, promising myself that I will never carry my fears with me again.