The Answer

I get asked almost every single day why I choose to run cross country. Well, now I have an answer. 

The Park City Cross Country Team lost five seniors last year who made up five of the seven spots on the 2013 State team. This year our state team consisted of one senior, two juniors, three sophomores, and a freshmen. PCHS has never gone to State as the underdog but this year was very different. Everyone was doubting our success. 

I don’t think I have ever been so nervous for something in my entire life, mostly because of the pain I knew I would soon be experiencing. Yes, running three miles as fast as you can feels horrible. No, I don’t know why I do it.  I am hoping to learn to love that feeling at some point in the next four years. 

Besides the suffer factor, our entire team had a lot of unspoken weight riding on our shoulders.

Pine View. White Jerseys. Beat em’. They are the team. The team that was the only roadblock to our glory. 

Diggin' Deep

My coach informed me about two weeks before state that I needed to  beat Pine View’s last two runners. In order to do this, I would either have to run my PR(personal record) or be only seconds off of it. Not an easy task considering my PR was set on a very easy course. 

The dreaded gun went off and the misery began. My only focus: Pine View. 

Their girls were in front of me through the entire course.  I could see the bright white jerseys at least ten seconds ahead of me the entire way. Everyone from Park City, but mostly the agro moms, shouted “White jerseys, Liza, white jerseys!” I hope they are reading this because then maybe they would realize their “words of encouragement” are not encouraging at all. They are pretty much the complete opposite. Like seriously, why don’t you come and run a 5K as fast as you can, up hills, in the scorching heat, with five thousand people shouting in your face “PINE VIEW, LIZA!” It’s not pleasant. I knew my focus from the minute I stepped over that line, I didn’t need some crazy moms reminding me that I was, at that point, not in line to reach my goal. 

The last four hundred meters of the course were on the track at Highland High School. Three Pine View girls were about five seconds ahead of me.

At this point in the race, a runner has nothing left. Their legs feel heavy, their arms dead. Their mouth feels like they just ate a spoonful of powdered sugar, only it tastes like sweat and makes you want to puke. 

This is usually the moment we are supposed to speed up but due to our condition that rarely happens. 

State Champions! WOOHOO

But it did happen and PCHS won their seventh consecutive state title this year by a mere four seconds; the closest race to date. The difference: we sped up when everyone else slowed down. We dug deep when it really counted and were able to pull past those infamous white jerseys. I was definitely not one of the fastest runners on the state team but I still contributed and that will be my new answer when somebody asks me why I choose to run.

The Not so Obvious Perks of Being Left Behind

If I lived in any other place, being the only one left in town over a school break would pretty much be awful. However, I live in Park City, UT and being the only one still in town over break is awesome. As my older sister is most likely sleeping and dreaming up a fantasy on the tropical island of Hawaii, I have fortunately been granted the wish of being left home. Alone. 

The endless line of cars on a school
morning.

Benefit #1: Escape From Traffic

The endless line of empty pavement
on a school break morning.

Over the recent years, as most of my followers know, Park City has been becoming overpopulated. Locals now have to give themselves and extra ten minutes just to get from Kimball Junction to Park Meadows due to traffic. I run into this in parking lots at the grocery store, on small neighborhood roads, and even at 6:45 am as I drive to school. The one and only time to escape traffic is over school breaks. I noticed the change this morning as I was driving to cross country practice and turned the bend into town expecting to see the usual morning traffic. Instead I was grateful to see the absence of bumper to bumper traffic. I can’t help but feel sorry for my best friend most likely stuck in a line of countless vehicles and unpleasant honks in Los Angelus, California. 

Benefit #2: Undisturbed Hikes

Because Park City is filled with active people, the numerous trails seem to overcrowded especially at this time of the year. Word spreads rapidly through this town about the opening of a new trail and the locals quickly head to see for themselves what the new trail will offer. I sometimes find it fun to run into different friends each time I go on a hike. Having said that, it is also very peaceful to go on a hike and not run into a single person the entire way. If you are one of the people who need these calming hikes then don’t plan any vacations over your next school break! Once all the UEAers leave, the trails are practically yours. I took advantage of this and went for a trail run yesterday. I didn’t see a single soul the entire way. Actually, I guess that was a lie because I did run into a moose!

Lost Prospector Trail. 

Benefit #3: I’m an Only Child

As I mentioned before, my older sister Nicole got invited to spend UEA break on the beautiful island of Oahu. I am obviously jealous so I don’t need to waste time trying to convince myself that her trip will be horrible. Instead, I have decided to spend my thoughts on creating reasons why being an only child is way more superior than any trip to any scorching hot and humid island in the middle of the Pacific ocean. Because I am only a freshmen, I clearly cannot drive, legally. But the absence of the other child has opened up a lot of free time for my parents. I pretty much look at them as chauffeurs at my beck and call. To add to that, my mom bakes when she is bored. Lets just say the cookie jar is completely full and is ready to be refilled at any point of time. I am totally jealous of actual only children because their lives must be like a dream.

I am not looking forward to Sunday and not just because it is the last day of break. Sunday is also the day that lines of vehicles form, trails are again occupied, and the life of an only child ends. If you are wondering I have already made arrangements for Nicole’s absence over Spring Break. Life is good as an only child in a lonely town.

One and Done

Supposedly Park City, UT has some of the greatest mountain biking on Earth. Or at least that's what my dad says who mountain bikes almost every day of the week. I, on the other hand, do not. I wish my first mountain bike ride had been in Park City so maybe I would’ve learned to enjoy it. Instead, I was forced to learn to mountain bike in a place called Fruita, CO. 

The middle of no where is actually kind of pretty!

Every year the Park City Ski Team goes on a camping trip. I was so pumped to hear what we would be doing this year; hiking in Canyon Lands, rafting on the Colorado river, discovering slot canyons in Escalante. So many incredible options, my head was reeling with the possibilities. The decision made by our coaches was to take us mountain biking in some random place called Fruita, Colorado. Once I heard the news I didn't have the slightest desire to go on this "team bonding" trip. I had never even been on a real mountain bike ride how could I possibly make it through three straight days. It sounded like pure torture. Of course my dad, "the professional mountain biker” wouldn't take no for an answer and insisted that I go. About a week later I found myself in a van full of fifteen kids on our way to Fruita, Colorado, a.k.a. the middle of nowhere. 

Don't look down!

I wish I had never woken up on Friday morning, if I hadn't maybe the idea of staying in my tent all day would have become an option. But of course that didn't happen, and of course I found myself mounting a bike I had never even used before, not to mention wearing clip pedals for the first time.  The thought of having my feet attached by a piece of metal to my pedal didn’t help matters. Can you say intimidating? They were bound to cause problems as my day went on. 

We pulled out of camp onto the dirt road which I struggled to find my balance on at first but after about twenty feet I was feeling pretty pro and wondering why I had felt so much anxiety for this moment in the first place. I thought to myself, “this ain’t so bad! I got this.” Almost immediately after this thought crossed my mind we pulled up to a trail head. What I had originally thought was the trail we would be riding was actually just the road to get to the dreaded trail. My confidence level practically shook the ground as it dropped.

I fell eleven different times that day and twenty-one times that trip, but who's counting? Obviously I was.

Before the trip to Fruita, my mom kept on saying one thing to try to convince me to go: "Liza, you cannot live in Park City and not know how to mountain bike." I will admit that this may have worked at the time, however I will not believe it for one second anymore. I attempted this so called sport once and that should be a good enough excuse not to try it again. I could spend my time doing plenty of other activities. 

Fun games beat mountain biking any day!

That is the wonderful thing about Park City, there are an endless amount of things to do. I feel as though I take full advantage of this benefit so I am not going to let sitting on an uncomfortable seat while hurling myself down a skinny dirt path filled with sharp rocks, elusive roots and most likely a hungry mountain lion lurking behind a bush kill my vibe to enjoy the great outdoors.