Back to the Beginning.

Is it already that time again? Have I already come full circle in these blogs, back to one of the very first subjects that inspired me to even make something completely new? Something totally separate from the little box that sat on my MySpace profile page?

Why yes. I believe it is.

Now, Running Club officially started last Monday. However, today was the very first Tree Farm run I had the opportunity of participating in since season ended [because of my stupid absences last week I didn't get to run the first one]. So many things have changed since my very first run on that concrete trail. The talk of the infamous "tree farm run" intrigued me. It intimidated me. But needless to say, it was love at first run. The sharp chill in my lungs. The rhythmic tapping of running shoes. The occasional word or two. I remember keeping my mouth shut and talking to myself in my mind. I was slight acquaintances with all of these "strangers" but I knew I was not yet worthy of their company. I thought I would have to make my way up the ladder just as I did freshman year with the sprinters: gain respect, do the dirty work, pay your dues.
But as time went by, I slowly found out that this was not true. I discovered this group of people who I could relate to. People that understood me. People I understood.
Thus, my nasty break up with volleyball.
And the start of my glorious relationship with cross country. [May the point be made that my relationship with this dastardly sport began in middle school. But high school is SO much more different.]

This year, I'm still remembering the darkness. I'm remembering the glorious cold and wind, though this year I'm embracing it with shorts and sweatshirt. I'm slowly stripping off to senior season. Pure greatness. I reach that ominous trail and smile through the smoke dripping through my teeth. The trees still carry the burden of that beautiful bend in their scruffy spines. The morning dew still smells just as sweet. And the sounds will never go away. The slow hum of the bugs and birds will stay in constant play. My relationship with the streets of Kelmscot and Grady will stay consistent. I do assume that by the end of my senior year, however, Kelmscot and I will put aside our differences and there will no longer be yelling. Just smiling and laughing. This year there was no stitch. There was no being "done".
There was pure, uninterrupted, joyful, amazing, spectacular running.
And in the end, I walk behind and realize something.

Through only a few months. Through a season or two. Through all these hours, all these miles, all these words, kicks and punches. I realize. That I have their respect. That I am actually one of them now. That where once I stood a complete new kid, I now stand just another face on the team.

On the outside I was just being me. Talking obnoxiously loud and laughing with everyone else. But inside, I couldn't stop smiling.

I'm so honored. So proud. How did it ever come to this?
That I'm finally where I need to be.