A note about nationals

So I was running in the national NCAA cross country meet. It was cold and wet. I was trained for this kind of thing. I was ready. Everyone was fast. I was fast. (I had to remember that one.) The course was hard. I was almost 3K into my 6K race. This was where I planned to serge. My heart was willing. My legs were trying. But I was falling behind. I could hear someone coming up behind me. "Right here, Mike." I heard my teammate Rachel say. All I had to do was stay with her. Here comes the hill. "This is my favorite part." She reminded me. Draw from her strength, I thought. I remembered why I was doing this crazy thing: it was for them. The six other runners our there battling with this race. They who put their whole heart into this sport that we love. It was because there is something so real, so raw, so...well right now it was so painful. I finished that race, turned around because I thought I was in dead last. I wasn't. I kept walking because that was all I could do to keep from falling over. Sure I have raced better, but I wasn't disappointed. That race had created me - like every race does. And I had crossed the finish line while giving everything I had left. That is racing.