Memoirs of an Outstanding* Teen

Chapter 33: Thank You for Breaking Your Promise

Somewhere in the latter days of November, I found myself once again, standing at the pre-assembly block, listening to the principal make the announcement about someone offering general athletics training for free on Tuesdays and Thursdays. At that point, I had been honoring my weekend runs for a good three or four months. Give it another try?

I showed up at the stadium the following Tuesday. There were a bunch of kids already there, and I could recognize some of the faces from my school. They spoke in Afrikaans, and they seemed to know each other pretty well already, so I didn't bother to join their conversations after the initial "Hi!" The coach showed up, we did some generic stretching, and he sent us off for an 800m warm-up run.

Would you look at that! I wasn't out of breath five meters in. I finished the entire run without stopping, and I wasn't last.

That's about as much as I can say about my fitness level, though. When it came to the speed training, I soon realized that my 45-minute runs did not prepare me to become Usanne Bolt. We did several 100m and 200m dashes, and I brought up the rear on almost each one of them.

What do you tell yourself to keep your self-esteem from getting crushed? I usually tell myself, "It's okay, you can work on this and get better." So that's what I told myself on that day too. I decided that I would keep going to the practices every Tuesday and Thursday until I got faster. But then, of course, the universe – or something – apparently hates me. After just 5 of 6 practice sessions the coach announced that he would end the practices and that there were not going to be any sessions during the December break. So much for my willingness to "work on it." But then he mentioned that everyone can just use the training plans he already sent out. "Wait, which training plans? I did not get any such thing..." I thought.

Later, when I was waiting to go home, I asked one of the girls what training plans the coach was talking about. Well, apparently, the coach had all their numbers and was friends with their parents. That's how they got their plans. "He never asked for my number... But never mind."

I asked her if she could send me the plan too and she said, "Sure just give me your number and I'll send it to you."

I gave her my number, she gave me hers, and I saw no reason for her to do anything else but honor her word. But, it seems that she had more than enough reason to not keep her promise. I texted her multiple times asking for the plan, and no, she did not send it to me. Bless her soul, maybe she really couldn't send it who knows. I never spoke to her again, so I would never know.

After, a few exaggerated complaints, something like, "Why are people so horrible in the world? Why doesn't anybody ever keep their promises?" I decided to just Google my own running plan. That's when I realized she had actually done me a favor. Not only did I find a perfect 10k running plan, but I also discovered that there was a running club called Harriers, not too far from the stadium we trained at and they held races every couple of months. Maybe this one wouldn't have bi*chy Afrikaans girls.

It was nice to have something other than school work to do over my school break. I spent most of that December following the 10k plan.

Later, I painfully discovered that I did not have the right shoes for long distance running. My foot started feeling like it was broken in half after every run. I wasn't discouraged though. I just got new shoes with much better cushioning, got a different plan, a 5k one this time, so I would be prepared in time for the February Harriers' race and went back on the road.

I grew to love those afternoon runs. I remember, all my rest days felt boring compared to my running days. I was finally becoming something more than a bookworm. There was not a single runner's website that I left without punching in my email for "future running tips and diet advice." There are actually some runner's newsletters I'm still signed up for to this day. I began buying the Runners magazine and binge watching old Olympics long distance races. I became a long-distance runner.

Looking back, I think it was probably mostly the runner's high that got me hooked. Either way, I remember my first running days, that December, and the rest that followed, as some of the happiest memories in my life.