This is the story of the race that reminded me who I am. There is a moment in every runner’s career where the doubt gets louder than the desire. For me, that moment stretched across an entire season. I was coming off injury, my times were not where I wanted them, and I started questioning whether I belonged at this level. That is a dangerous place to be as a D1 athlete because the competition does not care about your mental state.
The Race That Reminded Me Why I Run
The weeks leading up to this race were methodical. My coach and I put together a speed block that was specifically designed to sharpen me for the 1500m. We did short intervals at goal pace, worked on race tactics, and focused on closing speed. The training was going well, but training and racing are two different animals. But this was the race that reminded me what I was capable of.
Race Day Preparation
The day before the meet, I did a shakeout run to loosen my legs. I remember the conditions being perfect, one of those evenings where the temperature drops just enough that the air feels clean in your lungs. I told myself that tomorrow was just another race, but I knew it was not. I needed this one.
Race day arrived and I went through my normal routine. Warm-up jog, drills, strides, and then the mental ritual I have developed over years of competing: I close my eyes, take three deep breaths, and visualize the last 200 meters. I see myself in the home stretch, tired but relentless, closing the gap on the runners ahead of me. That visualization has become my anchor.
When the gun went off, I settled into position and ran the first 400 meters controlled. The second lap I moved up. By 800 meters I was in the top five, and I could feel the rhythm locking in. That is the feeling runners chase, when the pace feels hard but sustainable and your body stops fighting you.
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