I tried my best to stay calm before the race. While everyone was doing whatever, I just laid down, closed my eyes, and shut everything out. After an ordinary warm-up, I got my spikes on and went over the line to do some striders. Coach gave us the strat talk and told me, “If you come across that line an 18 is on that clock, I’m punching you in the gut.” I was thinking, “There’s no way I won’t break 18 today.” Well, I was wrong.
After some confusion with our starting box, the gun goes off and the frenzy begins. After the beginning straight, there’s a 90º turn, and I was basically at a standstill for a moment. Through mile 1, I did a pretty good job of sticking with my teammates who had been beating me in past race. We came in the first mile around 5:27. It was a bit faster than I would have liked, but I didn’t let it faze me. After mile 1, me and another teammate slowly started fading backwards, away from 2 of our teammates. After a bit, I passed the other guy, but the other 2 were still very far away. From there, I just tried to hold on. I should have been more tough, I should have been more ballsy, but I wasn’t. Coming out of the woods, I hardly fought for positions. I kicked into the finish line for an 18:01. This is probably nature’s way of smiting me, getting me so close to the 17s.
It was a 9 second PR, but it wasn’t enough. My friends kept saying, “Hey, it’s a PR. Be happy with it.” But I just couldn’t. Running, why are you running away from me? Why can’t you run TOWARDS me and allow me to embrace you? Well, we have a meet this wednesday, so we’ll see how that turns out. Keep on running.