The next three months could then be best described as Hell on Earth. Practice became overly exhausting, as running consumed every part of my life. Apart from school, my daily routine was the same day after day. A short drive to Lenoir-Rhyne afterschool was first, where I dressed out in running apparel. Time spent stretching, warming up, drills, and then the workout, and finally a cool down would last nearly two hours each day. Afterwards, a gym workout to improve my core abdominals was quick to follow. Then home for a shower, meal, and a little homework before going to bed. A life outside of running soon became non-apparent, as almost anything else seemed to detract from the goals I had set out to accomplish at nationals.
Day after day I could feel myself become faster on the track. Local races were won with ease, and my confidence was through the roof. With only days leading up to the big showdown, I now had something to prove to myself and others. I was ready to make a statement, by running a fast time.
Thanks to a gift by my great uncle Henry, my mother was able to afford the cost of the trip to the “Big Apple”. The two of us drove down the night before, and settled into a hotel in New Jersey. We were half an hour outside the city, away from the unbearable traffic. Upon arrival to our destination, we first unpacked our belongings in the hotel before we left to go visit the track. The venue had packet pick-up the day before nationals, for athletes to come practice and get a feel for where they would compete the next day. Heading into the city, I was more than amazed as we drove to the site. Dreaming of New York City my whole life, it was near impossible for me to believe I was finally there. The busy high-paced environment was nothing like I had seen before and I felt as if I could scream with excitement. It was hard to remember in that moment the reason for coming might be anything other than vacation, as my mind had a hard time grasping reality, though seeing the armory itself helped to somewhat put myself back on track.
Entering the venue, I proceeded to walk straight towards the track itself. Athletes were allowed on at any point, and I itched to stand where I would compete the next day. For several minutes I stood in admiration, as I took in the view. The track was like nothing I had ever seen before. For weeks I viewed photos and videos of races held there online, trying to imagine what it might be like to be here myself. The feeling was much different than expected. That day I was only supposed to go out and do a short, easy run, even though I ached to put on my spiked shoes and race a few quick laps.
“Tomorrow you’ll have your shot.” I told myself
The purpose of attending the race site the day before served no purpose other than to help me visualize in my mind how I might play out the race later that night and early the next morning. I began to take a brief jog around the closest banked side, simply to get a feel for it. But I stopped mid-stride. Intuitively, I knew tomorrow was my day to run, and I wasn’t about to waste any effort the day before.
Soon after, my mother met with me and we headed back to the hotel. There would be no site seeing the night before, as the last thing I needed was a pair of tired legs.
That night, trying to sleep was much harder than expected. My mind was intensely focused on one thing: tomorrow’s race. At this point, I was willing to get whatever sleep my body would allow, knowing it wouldn’t be much.
I woke up early to grab some breakfast, being careful of what I ate. Eating several pieces of toast, eggs, and cereal, I was feeling great. About to explode with excitement I had to continuously remind myself to relax, and focus on the small things such as brushing teeth, showering, and packing all race materials needed for the big day.
“Finally,” I remember thinking.
At some points during my training, I felt as if my moment would never come. Stepping out of the hotel van, my mother and I headed into the facility. The meet was already underway. I said goodbye to my mother, as it was time for us to separate. She would head towards the bleachers, and I was to head towards the track.
“Good luck Brian, I’ll be watching!” said my mother.
Excitement was in the air, and I knew my mother was eager to see the race occur.
“Thanks Mom! Keep fingers crossed!” I said.
Noise within the facility continued to grow louder as the meet progressed. As I could not quite hear my mother, I was nearly certain she could not hear me. We both parted, but knew something great was about to happen. I could see her excitement and enthusiasm, and if I hadn’t shown mine throughout the past three months, then I’m certain she noticed that day.
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