I joined cross country when I was thirteen years old. I had no idea how much I really needed to be on that team until my life turned upside down, and my team would be the only thing keeping me right side up. I wasn’t the fastest, I think my best 400 was 1:27, 1600 was 7:24, 3 mile was only a 27:23. I wasn’t an MVP, but I always felt like one with my team.

For once in my life I had found somewhere I felt like I belonged. Constantly floating through life like a ghost, only to find rest among a bunch of kids crazy enough to run for fun. I spent four of the best and worst years of my life on cross country. Four years running every day after school, eating an extra small meal to fuel my body, drinking more water than my thirteen to seventeen-year-old bladder could hold, and all the sleepovers and early mornings. I am so glad my mom didn’t let me back out of that first day of practice six years ago, because that day marked the era I call, “Happy Nina”. With all the memories come all the thank you’s that I never really got around to expressing.

To my head coaches:

Thank you for loving me when I was unlovable. Thank you for bearing with me when I would ditch practice my freshman year, and for believing in me when I felt like I had failed you. Thank you for all your sacrifices to make sure the team was taken care of. I remember my senior year cross country camp, after recovering from a sprained ankle, a strained quadricep, and shin splints, I had, what up to that point, was the worst race I had ever run.

I came in dead last. It was hot. I couldn’t breathe because my lungs do a really sucky job at being lungs. I felt like I had failed you and my team. I remember sobbing into your arms and you telling me “It’s okay to have some bad runs”. Thank you. I was always too hard on myself. Thank you for always being on my side. I will carry the memories you guys gave me within my heart forever.

To my assistant coach:

I struggled with body issues all my life. I was homeless. I wanted to die. You underestimated me. You thought I wasn’t worth the time and effort. You walked up to me after practice one day and told me “you did better than I thought you would. You’ve also gained a lot of calories." First of all, rude. Second of all, couldn’t you see how sad I already was? I already put myself down, but you constantly shoved me deeper. You were petty and played favorites.

You had me in tears after snatching away a freaking bracelet from me after a race that I was proud of. It may not seem like a big deal to you, but running makes me emotional damnit! I remember myself and two other teammates huddled over you as you showed us a bracelet you got for us, but as I reached for one, you snatched it away like a toddler on the playground. You brought me to tears almost every time I was around you. You never believed in me. You never cared about me. And yeah, you’re not getting back those fifteen dollars you lent me for a Mt. Sac shirt. Boy, bye!

To my team:

You were my home when I didn’t have one of my own. From the moment I walked into practice that July morning six years ago, you made me feel like I had somewhere to go to when I had no one else on my side. You had my back when no one else cared. You became my family when mine deserted me. Thank you. You were the peace within the storm that I was walking through. I honestly don’t know if I would still be alive right now had I not joined cross country.

You saved me. All of you.

I will always cherish the van rides on race day. I will hold in my heart all the times we ran together saying “good job”, even though I wasn’t the fastest. Thank you for comforting me after my bad races, and for telling me that I always have next week. We didn’t get along 100% of the time, but we all knew come hell or high water, we had each other’s backs. Thank you for that. I’ll forever hold with me all the Jack n’ Backs, Wilderness and back, three-mile loops, shin splints, roller massages, pool parties, spaghetti dinners, league meets, invitationals, fruit snacks and granola bars, and all the times we cheered:

“OUR TEAM IS WHAT?”

“RED HOT!”

“OUR TEAM IS WHAT?”

“RED HOT”

“OUR TEAM IS R-E-D WITH A LITTLE BIT OF H-O-T OH BABY R-E-D RED H-O-T RED HOT RED HOT RED HOT WHOOOO!”

Yes, I remember the whole chant. Thank you for the four amazing years you all gave me. I hated high school, but I loved you. For that, I wouldn’t change a thing.

#onlyxc