“All girls 4x200 meter runners please report to the track. All girls running the 4x2.” The last place I wanted to report to was the track. Honestly, I thought I was going to vomit. What am I doing? I am not a track runner, and certainly not a 4x200 meter runner. “Ready, Meghan?” Absolutely not. How did Coach Underwood expect me, the slowest runner on the track team, to sprint an entire 200 meter relay against some of the fastest runners in the state? As I pace over to lane five, I apologize in advance to my teammates, just in case I cannot finish the race.
As Underwood directs me to the proper lane, I look him in the eyes and say, “There is absolutely no way I can do this.”

He stares at me and says, “ I know you can do it. Just try your best, Meg.” Ugh. I know I have to try for Underwood, but the only thought going through my head is “Why do I even run track?” The gun sounds off.
I cannot breathe. I seriously cannot breathe. As I make the final turn, I think I may be dying. “Why did I not use my inhaler right before I ran?” Good question, because my lungs are in desperate need of air. 55 meters left. I see Sophie waiting for me to hand the baton off to her.

“Yes, Meghan, you can do this.” I tell myself dubiously.
Then again, maybe I can’t. Until, over all of the noise in the field house, I hear, “Go Meghan! You got this! Finish strong!”
Courtney is cheering me on from the edge of the track. I start to run a little faster.
“You’re so close Meg, you got this!”
Kate, Savannah, and Catlen are screaming for me too.
“Go Meg!” Kelly yells and I think “Okay, maybe I actually can do this.”
With 15 meters of my 200 meter relay left I hear, “Meg you did it!” It’s Sophie, finally. I hand her the baton and think, “Deep, slow breaths.” I repeat this over and over in my head. Bent over, profusely panting and sweating, I look to my left and there is Underwood. “I knew you could do it, Meghan. I’m so proud of you.”
I actually did it.
About two months after my first, and only, successful track meet, I am waiting, stage left, for the school production of How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying to begin, with me as the “leading lady”. As I wait for the curtain to open, and the orchestra to strike their opening chord, beads of sweat begin to trickle down my temples. My stomach twists into knots and my knees begin to weaken.
Oh no, I think to myself, I can’t do this.
I try to recall the steps to my first dance and the lyrics to my first song, but my mind is blank.
“Places, everyone! Get ready! The show is about to begin!”

My nerves skyrocket as I struggle to remember the words of my first song. “Is it Where will I find a treasure or Here’s where I find the treasure”? I honestly cannot remember, until, out of nowhere, I hear a hushed voice, “Break a leg Meghan! You’re going to be amazing! Can’t wait to watch you shine on stage!”

I quickly turn and see Olivia whispering to me with her arms wide open, waiting to embrace me and wish me luck.
As the opening notes of my big number are played my nerves begin to take over. The lights shine brightly on me and it feels like my heart is pounding out of my chest. Quickly succumbing to my anxiety a lump forms in my throat and I fear I will not be able to sing. I briefly glance glance off stage and see Olivia smiling wide.
Okay, maybe I can do this. It all suddenly comes back to me.

As I belt out the final lyrics to my song and the lights dim, I run off the stage and there she is, waiting to congratulate me on my performance.

I actually did it.

As the final gunshot sounds, signaling the last race, and the closing curtain falls, signaling the last performance, I think back to all of my asthma attacks while running, all of the stressful practices, and all of the moments of stage fright and ask myself, why didn’t I just give up? Then it dawns on me, my teammates, my coach, and all my friends kept me going. Their constant praise from the sidelines of the track to the wings of the stage replays over and over in my head. As I hear their voices cheering for me in my mind, I realize that they are my backbone and with their support I can be the fastest runner, the star of the show, and my own cheerleader even if I don’t think so.