Getting left behind

There must be a time in a parent's life when they ralize that however hard they try to hold on, their child will ultimately move on without them. This bittersweet moment of parting pulls at their heart but also assures them that there is something greater in stored. Though they may not be able to experience it with their child, the great opportunities of the world still exist like a ripe piece of fruit waiting to be harvested. I have never been a parent and don't plan on becoming one anytime soon, but I realized yesterday how maternal I feel about my team. This comes out in many ways, including when I borrow out clothes daily to those who have forgotten a sports bra, t- shirt, socks... I'm also a good three inches taller than almost all of my teammates, which only reinforces this connection. As a member of my team I'm invested in it's success. Before a race i try to encourage my team, stay in a good mindset, and support the other girls-- especially when I'm not racing with them. Seeing one of my teammates succeed elated me as well, and we all take part in celebration of a PR. Likewise, comforting eachother after a poor performance is another responsibility. Yesterday, part of the team went to the U of M track meet to compete. It was a limited entry meet and we only had three spots in the 3200, so I wasn't able to go. This was a very weird experience for me-- though I've been unable to race in selective meets before, this was the first one to truly make me question myself. I likened it to the way a parent would suffer from an empty nest. Both happy for my teammates and frustrated at being left behind, I had to reconsider both myself and my attitude. Initially I had not wanted to have to race this week, but upon learning that I was not among those going to the U I had a change of heart: I desperately wanted to be fast enough to deserve to go. I knew that based on times it was predictable and necessary, but that didn't alleviate the pang of inadequacy. It's slightly demoralizing to be assigned an easy run and some 200s for practice while the faster girls get to go compete. After this paltry workout, however, my dinner was interrupted by a call from McKenzie. From the meet she and a couple of other girls yelled into the phone at me. Though I couldn't hear much of the conversation, their wishes that I were there and even a request for a pep talk made me reconsider the position I was in. Though I wasn't racing, it didn't mean I wasn't part of the team. With this realization I was able to put aside my mixed feelings of rejection, jealousy, and inadequacy and embrace the role my team wanted me to play. Like a mother sending her kids off I had to be supportive, encouraging, and focused on the other girls. Even after their races it was important to chose to be supportive as opposed to jealous. It was a humbling experience that deflated my engorged ego as well as inspired me to stay committed to training in the hopes of earning a spot next time. It reminded me that though I'm not there yet, there is something more in store. And until I reach that goal, I will always have the ability to support my team.