Position (3/4 of "My Track Career in 400m")
The last few weeks, I have published the first two parts of a 5-part essay I wrote for my sports writing class in the fall. Each part represents a different phase in a 400m and a different moment in my athletic career. The third phase in a 400m, position, is the most exciting part of the race. It's when you realize you can win it. Looking back at my track career, I would say that this season accurately reflects that sentiment as well. Enjoy!
POSITION.
*
The third 100m is all about position.
I mentally check back into the race at the 200m mark, searching for my dad’s voice in the crowd. It’s the only time I hear a sound during the race. His tone and diction match my performance at the split. It began by accident, but now it’s by request. As always, we strategized the time for the 200m split, somewhere 1-2 seconds off my 200m PR based on the race. When I come through at the target time we set, he yells “perfect” and reminds me of my cue for the third 100. When I’ve come through too slow, I hear, “Gotta go! Gotta go!” And if I come through too fast, it’s a variation of the two in a tone of nervous excitement: he can’t help me now.
Sometimes, when the crowd is roaring for an intense race, he forgets the vocabulary entirely and I eagerly prepare for a dog fight. Regardless of the cheer, hearing his voice gives me the confidence boost I need for the next 200m. The race has only begun. At this point, a fire sparks in my legs. I intensify my arm swing to carry me through the turn. The stagger of runners on the track begins to even out. My position in the race becomes more than an instinctual guess.
*
It was a few weeks before my senior season, and I was entered to race in the NSAF USA Meet of Champions. I was instead in the emergency room for the third time in three days. First, I needed an emergency appendectomy. Then, about 24 hours after the routine surgery, my symptoms returned. The doctors thought I was nauseas from the antibiotics, and since I threw up the painkillers, their absence would explain the stabbing sensation in my stomach. So, they sent me home with a different prescription. That night, back for a third time, they admitted me. Over the course of the week, I threw up hundreds of times, even though it had been days since I ate anything. I struggled to walk one lap around the hospital ward, yet all I could think of was running one lap at the state track meet. It felt distant yet tangible all at once. Meanwhile, the nurses doubted my motives, withholding pain medication until the doctors were able to diagnose the problem. Finally, an explanation: a small bowel obstruction. The swelling from my surgery caused my small intestine to pinch against itself, preventing anything from going down and forcing it back upwards. The obstruction creates a pain that others describe as worse than labor. I describe it as worse than a 400m, certainly.
The obstruction could take weeks to resolve on its own. I was scheduled for another surgery in the morning. Yet no more than 10 seconds after the doctor shut my hospital door, the obstruction resolved. Yes, the doctor had literally scared the shit out of me. A divine comedy it was. I returned home the next day, ten pounds weaker and unable to stand straight.
Eventually, I regained enough strength to return to school, then practice, then competition. Without the months of lifting, conditioning, and racing to get into 400m shape, I ran some 100m’s throughout the season to develop my speed and go easy on my body. I was flirting with the idea of running it at state, but was leaning against it. A few days before the entries were due, however, I decided that I was going to go for the triple crown: the 100m, 200m, and 400m. And of course, the 4x400.
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The decision to push myself out of my comfort zone paid off. I had never felt more excited than when I crossed the finish line in first in the 100m that day. I also paced myself–I knew I had to conserve energy throughout the day to leave with the most amount of titles I could. In the 400m, my biggest opponent, also pursuing the 200m win, set out at a blazing pace. I sat behind it, knowing that if I went for the risky victory here, the 200m title would be in jeopardy. My pacing was rewarded: the energy I conserved by placing second in the 400m allowed me to beat her by .01 in the 200m for the win. Combined, the pushing and pacing put me in a position I never would have anticipated, but this time it was a good surprise: I was on top of the podium in the two sprint events. Even though I did not win the triple crown, I celebrated as the “Sprint Queen'' in Colorado, a title I had been written off for since I started the sport.
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