Getting into shape, one asthma-induced break at a time

I knew I was in trouble when I unzipped my Puma bag and found I had left my compression shorts and asthma inhaler on the dining room table at home. Despite my lack of assisted breathing and anti-chafe measures, I threw on my trusty neon green headband and hopped onto the Puma Bus waiting to take us to Magnuson Park for practice.

I will be the first to admit that I am not in perfect shape. But I didn’t quite realize how not-so-perfect my body was until we started warming up. Before embarking on the 15-minute warm-up jog, assistant coach Jessica briefed the whole team that “today should be just as uncomfortable as race day.”

With that thought rolling around my head, we started our fifteen minute jog around the park. I was in the front of the pack as we started ducking and weaving around hills. I thought to myself, “Wow, I can really keep up…this shouldn’t be that bad.” After that initial euphoria, I realized I was pouring in all my effort when I really should have been giving 40 percent. Then, I started to get tired, and my lead diminished until I was at the back of the pack, sputtering through the last three minutes.

I was catching my breath after dynamic stretching when I learned that we would soon be starting a two-mile time trial around a gravel track. The run took three and a half laps. I was told that I should shoot for a time of around 16 minutes…yeah, like that was going to happen.

As we lined up at the crudely drawn white line on the track, I had my last thoughts of, “What the hell have I gotten myself into?” I prepared myself and as I heard ”…two…one…GO!” we started our run. In preparation for my slower speed, I started in the back of the pack…and promptly stayed there. As I ran my way around the track, I realized that the next 20 minutes of my life were going to suck hard. After what felt like an eternity, I rounded the final corner of my first lap, where I was emphatically greeted by a cheering coach Kayla Robertson.

After breaking a quick smile, I remembered that I still had two and a half laps to go. I was already feeling the burn in my legs, and that’s when the uphill portion came. Pretty soon, I got lapped by almost the whole team. My heart beating and my oxygen depleting, I began dreaming up creative ways to get out of running the final lap and a half. Trip and cut myself on the gravel? Fake a pulled muscle? Divert from the track entirely and hide on the Puma bus? In the end, I decided to toughen up and get it done.

As I started my final lap, I realized my running form had turned to crap. When I turned the last corner and the finish line was dead ahead of me, my pace picked up. The opening chords of Eye of the Tiger blasted in my head as the whole team cheered for me as I approached the finish. With a final stride, I crossed the finish line. Considering how tired I was afterwards, I thought I had been running pretty fast. But then I got my time…nineteen minutes, five seconds. Most of the team laughed as I collapsed on the grass and poured water over my face.

“I’m done!” I exclaimed as I began to grab my stuff and make the slow trek to the bus. “Not so fast!” Coach Robertson said, “We still have to do hill sprints!” “Huh?!” Apparently, we still had to sprint up a giant hill three times. What. The. Heck.

The hill we had to sprint up was steep and tall. We had to go full speed, then, once we reached the top, jog down and do it again. “GO!” I heard and then we were all sprinting. Unfortunately for me, as I was still chugging up the hill, I saw half the team start jogging down. “Damn, I’m slow,” I thought to myself as I made it to the top and turned around.

The third sprint was by far the worst. As I “sprinted” up the hill, the whole team passed me by as my lungs screamed for air. After my final lunge across the finish line, my legs gave out from under me. I was finally done!

As we began the final cool down jog to the bus, I had an unbelievable sense of accomplishment. I did it! This is where I began to see the appeal of cross country. While running, it felt like absolute hell. But when you were finished, the way you felt was unreal. Yet in the end, though I understand why one would want to do this, I realized it is most definitely not for me.

By: Mahir Piyarali