I am a runner. I run as a stress reliever, for fun, and as a pastime. I wake up every day just waiting til I can go for my run because that is my time for myself. I take everything out of my head for just a short time in my busy day, and I just go. Some days are longer than others, and some days I run faster than others. But no matter how I do it, I always run. It hasn't always been like this, though.

Volleyball used to be my favorite pastime, favorite activity, favorite sport—to play and to watch. But, a coach took that away from me.

Ever since 5th grade, since I was 10 years old, my life revolved around volleyball. I lived and breathed it; playing traveling through multiple organizations over the years and playing for the school in junior high and high school. It was my junior year, and I was ecstatic to finally have an opportunity to play for the varsity coach, to be able to play in 'The Pit', which is the name of the gym at my high school. The summer was filled with open gyms and two a days. At first, it was fun like always, and I looked forward to it every day, but eventually I stopped having fun; I would dread it every day. My coach was crude and careless; she didn't know what she was doing and had no idea how to coach a group of teenage girls through a volleyball match.

Over the span of the season, I would come home from practice in tears out of frustration and because of things my coach would say to us. We won only 3 games out of our 30 game season; yep, that's right, a 3-27 record. Every day, I just got closer and closer to the end of my season, and I couldn't wait for it to be over, and sadly enough, I already knew I didn't want to come back out again next year. The season came to an end, and I had no idea what I wanted to do next year.

It was February, and I was starting to train for my upcoming track season. Talking to my coach about volleyball and expressing to her the fact that I really didn't want track to be anything like that, she told me she wanted me to try something new. She said she wanted to transform me into a distance runner and coached me to run 800's for her. I honestly thought she was crazy when she said this because I was strictly a 100 and 200 runner; two laps around the track was too much for me, or so I thought. Being the respectful and coachable person I am, I did everything she asked of me and did my best every time. Before I knew it, I fell in love.

I can't even express to you the excitement I would get throughout my body on meet days, or the adrenaline rush I would get standing on that start line before every race. I officially knew I was a runner at that point. When I was nearing the end of my track season, my coach pulled me aside one day and we discussed my plan for next year, or more specifically, my plan about volleyball. Over the span of just a few weeks, my decision was made. I was going to run cross country in place of volleyball for my senior year.

As easy of a decision it may seem, it was much harder to actually give up my lifelong favorite sport than it was to say I was going to do so. The summer before my senior year I put in so many miles in, training for the season because I knew I had a lot of ground to make up considering everyone else had been running cross country since seventh grade. When the season started I thought I was so prepared, but let me tell you, no one is prepared to put 75 miles in on your legs in just the first two weeks.

It is now almost halfway through the season. Going to volleyball games is tough and makes me rather sad, but I wouldn't have it any other way than to support my former teammates. Cross country is hard, and I have to push myself every day to be better than the day before, but I am only more in love with running now than I was in the beginning. This love I have for running continues to show me every day that no matter how hard my decision was, I made the right one.