I found my inspiration today on the all-purpose trail. I went for a long, hard bike ride to clear my head. It was a brilliant early-Autumn afternoon with blue skies, cool breezes, warm sunshine, green leaves overhead and crunchy leaves underfoot. Perfect.
Due to my timing, I was sharing the trail with clumps of runners from the high school cross-country team, staggered out in predictable groups of stragglers, middlers and elites, the gazelles who run effortlessly at the front of the pack. Weaving amongst them all was their coach on his bike. His T-shirt was emblazoned on the back with “NO EXCUSES,” bold enough to cut off any would-be complainers who may feel it’s too hot, too cold, too hard, too whatever to complete the day’s run.
It took me back to my high school running days. I had been a recreational jogger for a couple of years before I was coaxed into joining the cross-country team. It was a whole other world. I wasn’t so sure I wanted to cross over from blissful recreation to Division I competition. But once I was in the mix, I wanted to prove my mettle. That meant I had to rank in the Top 7 with my run times on our 7.5-mile run consisting of three figure-eights around Edgewater Park (hills, sand, grass). It was a grueling test.
My race times wouldn’t count unless I qualified for the Top 7 varsity squad. I was determined to make the cut. I was a natural middler. It took every ounce of energy, pacing and determination to make the A-team, but I squeaked in, just in time for our first race. Unfortunately, favoritism came into play and someone else — a VIP from previous seasons — was named to the Top 7 squad instead of me. I was devastated. I knew I was a novice but I deserved to be on that team! I had earned it!
Regardless, I was hesitant to tell my dad about it. He typically sided with the authorities, not me. He was a NO EXCUSES kind of guy. He would brush me off whenever I’d start to complain, interjecting, “There are no ifs, ands or buts about it!”
So I learned that I had to explain my case, not complain about the situation. I learned to control my emotions and lay out the facts of the matter — defending my position like a lawyer in court — in order to gain my father’s attention and maybe even his support. In this case, Dad could see that my recorded run times should have awarded me with a spot on the top squad. He actually went to bat for me, calling the coach and straightening out the situation.
I got to run that race as a top competitor. Unfortunately — as a newbie with so much to prove and so much to learn — I went out too fast and too hard. I stumbled over a root around mile 2 and gashed my knee open. I got up and kept running with blood gushing down my leg.
Maybe it was the loss of blood. Maybe it was the heat. Whatever it was, my body called it quits before I crossed the finish line. Around mile 3, I collapsed, unconscious, somewhere in the final chute, mere feet from the splendid finish.
Needless to say, I was crushed. But at least my coach commended me for my heroic effort and extended my varsity status to the next race, recognizing that I had given it my all and I was a great example of grit to my teammates… no ifs, ands or buts about it. NO EXCUSES.
