AND WE WERE FRESHMEN

End of Track- may 23 '22

I cannot believe track is over. Much less how I have grown ever more impatient and tired with life. It sort of reminds me of sophomore year and how I badly wanted a Brittney moment after xc sz ended, but without running I truly felt lost. It's kind of funny how it's repeating and how Isaac still directly interfered with my end of season. Obviously I haven't seen or spoken to him in a year+, but seeing him in a photo the EXACT day season ended was paralyzing to my body, heart, and soul. I felt angry, betrayed in a way, and heartbroken all over again. It took me back to when I loved and lost something I have not been able to find a replacement for. There's nothing quite like liking someone so much you aren't sure if it's real or fake. If it's you or him. If you're afraid to take a leap or you're afraid you're making the wrong choice.
Liking someone was so weird and felt so wrong but it was so exciting. It was bold and beautiful and hectic and wonderful and frightening and courageous and daring and freeing yet straining all at once.
Anyways, after that I was not able to sleep for a few days. Luckily I got slightly better and I remembered how I don't care for him. It was a moment of crisis.

The truth is: I don't care to see him at graduation. I don't care that he went to my prom. In reality, I guess I'm kind of glad I could see he was happy. That he wasn't wrong about having "so many friends" and that he was able to get the prom he couldn't have 2 years ago. I'm glad he isn't dead at the very least.
There's no point in wishing for more when at the moment I didn't want more. There's no point in wishing for a re-do when I know I would never change a thing. There's no point in believing he'll come crawling back if I know I'm bound to leave.
I just wanted a piece of my past to still care about me. It's clear running doesn't, and they will be carrying on with their cross country and track class and getting stronger while I only had my first 2 years. Garfield will land on the map and I'm sure of it and I will be glad to say that the Eastside raised me even though I know I raised myself. I think its normal to mourn the what-ifs and who I could've grown into if I ran last semester or If I never let depression and anxiety get the better of me. But those circulating thoughts only continue the dreading of life and the repetition of mistakes and keeping regrets.
Am I hurt? Yes. Am I jealous? Yes.
Will I get over this? Yes.

Maybe I didn't fulfill my dreams of state or sub 6 or sub 13. Maybe I never got my negative splits. Maybe I never hit sub 20 in cross country. Maybe coach didn't care as much as I thought he did.
I don't want to spend the next few months crying and stalking the team. I don't want to think about my losses and minimize the wins.
I think I had a great season overall. I managed to get back to freshmen year times, almost hit my prs, and I found peace within running. There was no stress, there was no screaming at the top of my lungs and there was no crying on the way home. I didn't blame everything on the image of a guy or view him as my way out. I wasn't number one but I learned to value my hard work and efforts.
My biggest takeaway was learning to love again. I love my team, I love the sport, and I love me.
I love myself for getting back out there even though I immediately wanted to concede. I love myself for getting into the locker room and changing and heading onto the field. I love myself for trying and crying and being willing to find myself once more on the track. I love myself for not giving up even at the very end.
This was what I needed. It's gone and I am sad to walk home and not be part of something. But I'm glad to have been PART of something. Nothing compares to this. and nothing will. I won't miss high school. But I'll always miss high school running. I'll miss the highs and lows of this grueling yet magical sport.