I always have a thought in the back of my mind every time I run in a meet. This thought just sits there and it's kind of like a math problem you couldn't figure out or a childhood show you forgot the name to. It's this ongoing thought that irritates you till you figure it out. As a runner there's a few things you wish to never hear. One of those things is just a sentence. One sentence that holds so much meaning to it. A sentence that can make your whole world crumble in just a matter of seconds. I don't think anyone can quite comprehend the pain you'd feel when you'd hear those words. For me I would've never believed it till a doctor told me. And I'd hoped, wished really, that a doctor never did tell me. Because as the doctor looked straight into my eyes and you can see that even the she doesn't want to deliver the horrible news to me. But there's a little glimmer of hope inside of me that doesn't want her to utter those unbearable words that will hurt like nothing I've ever experienced. So I begin to stare at everything but the doctors eyes because maybe it will hurt a lot less to not look at her as she ends my world basically. And when I think she's never going to deliver the news I look back at her. But in that moment she says those words. Those words that you'd hope that in your whole life you would never have to hear and I remember the pain. I remember my eyes started to get glossy but I refused to cry in front of this horrid doctor that I now hated. I knew that she was only doing her job but it hurt. It was this unbearable pain to be told that you can never run again. The doctor rambled on about the medical reasons why I could never run again. But all I could remember hearing is her saying that I could never run again it was like a record stuck on repeat. It just wouldn't stop it keep replaying and replaying.  I remember feeling a warm tear run down my cheek and I finally stopped hearing the words replay in my head. I remember the doctor sighing and she tried to avoid eye contact with me as she asked if I needed a moment to let everything sink in. I remember trying to say no but all my words got stuck in my throat and my tears came rushing out of my eyes. Then I felt warm arms around me and my mom saying that she will e-mail my doctor about my questions and concerns if I had any. I can vaguely remember actually getting to my car but I do recall all the odd faces people gave me. Some were confused but most sympathetic although they had no idea what I was going on though they still had some compassion and gave me warm smiles. But out of all those faces I do remember an older gentlemen that was in a wheel chair that looked at me and said, "The days will get brighter don't worry." Here I was crying about how I couldn't run when he was probably dying and can't even walk.

The whole car ride was utter silence. The kind of silence you wish that someone would talk or say something to get your mind off of all the things running through it. All I could think was wow this really is the end. The end of being able to stand at the starting line and wait for the man in the red coat that looks like at any minute he can fall over and die from heat exhaustion. The end to ever being able to have the people that I call my team but are more like a family to me cheer me on almost every step of the race. The end of waking up early almost every Saturday to go compete. To get the mix of excitement and nervousness as I warm up for my events and I wonder how I'll do. The end of ever being able to hold one of those shiny metals that I worked my butt of for. But what hurts the most above anything else is to know that all those goals that I set and I worked for I'll never be able to achieve. I'll never be able to go back because it was the end it was the end of the road for anything running wise. I never got to know what it must've felt like to get a letter from a college saying how they were interested in me. Or to even know how my senior year of running  was going unfold and if  I was ever going to break any  records in my high school career.

So as I sat on the bus going to my meet. I was in deep thought of a scenario that I'd hope would never happen soon. As the bus finally stopped and my race was soon to come I thought about the scenario that I came up with. I kept that as a reminder that every time that I go out to compete that it just might be my last. So no matter how tired or exhausted or even how good the competition was I had to give it my all. Because one day hopefully far from now I won't be able to run again. I won't get the rush of nervousness where it almost feels like you have to throw up. I wouldn't be able to go back to my "glory days" and experience it all. All I would be left with is memories of the days I ran and I hope that it will be enough for me to know that I gave it my all and everything I had in me was everything I gave.