Most people don’t know their limits because they are deadly terrified of testing them. I feel that I used to by among these people. I have built my status as a respected runner in all of Virginia and even the nation, dating back to my freshman year. Ever since I noticed I excelled in the sport I began and have continued to carve my body into a running machine by going through grueling miles, speed work, and hill work for over five years. Through all that time and through all of the sickening workouts, I had never prepared myself for what was to happen in the near future!
My coach had preached about testing limits and having no fear of them for my entire running career. I never really put much thought into whether or not I had truly tested mine. Sure I had run some pretty fast races and even been out of breath a couple of times. Sure my legs ached and throbbed at the finish line, but had I ever just gone out once and known that I had given my all? Every time my coach asked about people testing their limits, I often wondered how I would know if I had pushed my limits. I mean, what exactly is testing one’s limits supposed to mean? Maybe it means setting a new record or winning a race. No, that couldn’t be it because I had done those many times before. When asked, the coach simply responded with, “You’ll just know. Others will be able to see it in your eyes. To them you will look utterly weak, but inside you will know that you have given it your all, straight to the boundaries of your limits.”
Later in the season I found myself returning to the Virginia High School League State Cross Country finals for the third time. I was in my junior year and I had pulled myself up to being ranked 5th in the state of Virginia. All 189 of the best athletes in the state were on the starting line. The gun went off and I immediately took my position. I was around 12th place, right where I wanted to be, not so close that I would die off and not so far back that I would not be able to catch up. I slowly began to pick off runners, moving for my goal of 5th place or better. I pulled into the lead pack, again where I wanted to be. We were at the start of the third mile. We had picked up speed till we found ourselves at a blistering pace. My chest began exploding with pain and my breathing started to become overwhelming as we started the last 800m of the race. This part of the race was where I usually began my kick, which most runners feared. I had just begun planning the kick when it hit me. First my legs went dead, then my arms. I found myself on the brink of complete bodily shutdown. My pace slowed and the lead pack pulled farther away by the second. Eventually, the other runners started passing me toward the finish line, not just a few but group after group. My arms began to flail at my sides and my legs barely caught the grass under my body. I crossed the finish line in 25th place and collapsed to the unwavering ground. I awoke for a brief second to see the coaches and officials carrying my lifeless body off the course, just to blackout again. When I woke, my coach’s words were, “That was testing your limits”
From then on I knew that I was among the few “soldiers” that could say they had actually tested the limits of a man. A week later that I found out from my family doctor that I had run that fierce race with strept throat and mono. Some runners say I’m a dedicated runner, a soldier even. I just like to think that I have tested my limits and survived to test them even more.