The Running of the Med Students

The Running of the Med Students

When you start a long distance race you never think about the finish line until you are across. You may think about when you need to start your kick or that maybe you'll have to lean or dive, but you don't actually think about that finish line until the finish line is behind you.

If you think about it too early, it is all you can think about. It seems so far away, so you unknowingly begin to slow do. Any glimpse of that finish line and the rest and end of pain that occurs there does not motivate you to the finish line. It slows your from it.

You don't sprint through the finish when you think about the finish. You sprint until the finish line and then, just as you are about to cross, you relax. You lose a fraction of a second, you may get passed, and you sure as heck didn't get the most out of your race.

You know when you run a good race? You are so relaxed in the beginning that you can talk with teammates or opponents and still come by your first split where you want to be. You notice the crowd, even if it is just a blur. You hear that one voice you can always pick out. See those faces of the people who want you to succeed cheer you on. You pay attention the the terrain and make sure you don't stumble. You note your pace and know when you need to make a burst. You pay attention to the runners around you. And when it is time to kick until your legs go numb and your lungs burn, you have everything you need left to fly past the finish line before slowing down.

And when you see you catch a breath and see your time, you feel like you could do it again.

And that is med school. And I, like an idiot, decided to think about the finish line. I focused so much on it that I don't know the color of my own jersey or shoes or socks, let alone my teammates. I barely realize the crowd of loved ones cheering me on and their words are just a blur. Luckily it is early. And I just stopped thinking about that finish line.

So I'm watching the terrain so I don't stumble and will soon get my head swivel back that Padre used to laugh about so much. He told me he always knew I was running well when my head swiveled around and took in my surroundings on each step. I'd look at the trees, the ground, the fans, the other runners. I constantly took everything in. I knew where I was, what I was doing, and how to get the most out of myself because I didn't dwell on it. I enjoyed it. I payed attention to life around me and used that as my fuel.

And when it was time to make a move, I moved. It was the only time my head was still. Yet I still listened to the crowd. I listened to my opponents and how they were breathing. I listened to how I was breathing. If a teammate was there I listened to their breathing and made sure they were ready to go with me. Then I would listen to the footsteps we made. I never tried to run harder when I made moves, I just tried to make my foot falls disappear.

The worst part about focusing on the finish line is that you only pay attention to one thing: how bad you feel. Never a good idea. When you pay attention to everything around you, when you pay attention to yourself you realize how good you actually feel. It is time for me to start paying better attention to me. I did today. I I realized how good I feel.

Now, it is time to notice my footing and the other runners, who are now all my teammates, and the loving crowd cheering for me and, most importantly, get my head back on its swivel. Time to start noticing life around me.

And when it is time, I will listen to the footsteps all around and slowly make mine disappear.