Dead Last.

The gun fires and they're off. Your mind begins taking on the role of coach. You tell yourself, "Keep your stride big, don't let your arms cross, deep breaths. Stay strong for these 8 laps." The pack begins to spread out, and you're in dead last. You hear "Keep with it, Hillcrest." Your teams inches farther and farther away from you. Suddenly they appear unreachable. You keep telling yourself, "It's okay, keep with it, and don't give up."

With a little encouragement, you attempt to catch the Alta girl ahead of you. You get closer and closer, but realize you still have a mile to go. Your biggest mistake was giving yourself excuses. "My back hurts. Oh, my stomach. Ah, my legs." There are no excuses. The only thing on your mind should be "Catch her, keep with them, longer strides, arms straight, steady breathing." That and nothing else.

You see the Jordan girl ahead of you run into the infield and drop out. "Come on girl, keep with it!", you yell over your shoulder. You quickly turn your focus back to the track. You silently thank the encouragement from the sidelines; little do they know that it makes all the difference. Not long after, you hear footsteps from behind. You take a quick glance and see that a team mate is passing you. "Nice job girl, keep it up!" You know she has a chance as state, and wordlessly wish her all of the luck in the world.

As your legs scream at you, you hear; "Nice job. Don't look at the girl ahead, just focus on the tack in front of you. You're just bouncing up and down, drive forward!" Instantly you begin to drive, head forward, and legs moving faster. It hurts. Your legs want to give up. But you know you can't, you must keep moving. It's so hot; your face is on fire. Two more laps, you can make it.

Still you try to catch up with the girl ahead of you. Fifty meters seems like 10 miles as you make a futile attempt. You realize you are still dead last, but you don't let that bring you down. Keep moving forward and keep working those legs, that's all you can do. You begin your last lap. "Okay, now pick it up; give this last lap every ounce of energy you have left." As your legs still fight you, you begin to lengthen your stride and pick up your pace. As you reach the last 100 meters, you run on your toes and raise your knees higher with every step. While picking up speed, you know you don't have a chance at beating the girl ahead of you.

You accept that you finished your last race of the season in last place. After the race, you kick off your spikes and run near the bathroom. As you slump to the ground, the whole season flashes by in your mind. From where you had begun to where you are now. Astonishing PRs and disappointing performance, you'd been through it all. You stuck with it all season, missing as few practices as possible. And thanks to that, you had improved amazingly. Even though you had finished dead last, you were still able to be proud. You knew that you still had three years of training ahead of you, and that the 3200 wasn't even your strongest event.

You have faith in yourself, and know that you are capable of so much more. And you know that in the coming years, you will see all of your potential shine through.