Running is the sport. The sport that makes you feel like you are going to die a slow, painful death every time you set foot on to the course. The sport that kicks your butt, literally. When you run Cross Country race, it’s just you and the ground beneath your shoes. All you hear is the sound of your own heart thumping against your chest. All else goes silent; the sound of the ecstatic fans, coach’s yells, your teammates cheers just disappears. All you can think is don’t stop, don’t look at your watch, and don’t look behind you. Your muscles tighten and protest. You get cramps that make you want to double over in pain. You pray to God that you don’t faint, trip, or fall. You ask yourself what the heck do I want to do this for? And when you see the flags at the end, telling you have only have a hundred feet left, you have a power rush. Your blood starts to pump harder. Your head becomes so light that as soon as you past that finish, you head straight to the ground. Then you realize the answer to your question. You did it because of the accomplishment. The feeling that you did something that most of the people you know never will do. That you beat time. Running is definitely not for the faint of heart.