More than Medals

It was almost time. Her mind flashed back to the day she started her training. It wasn’t because she wanted to, it was because she had to. She was left with no choice if she ever wanted to leave that little town. And she did. With her whole heart. Even at the age of six she knew the world beyond there was calling to her. 

Six was when her love of running started too. She first felt the freedom one October day when a girl named Shannon from her class started chasing her home. She was no match for the strength of Shannon, but her instincts told her to run because she knew she was faster. And she was. And it felt easy. She felt like she could run forever. And she did. 

Long after Shannon was the size of a grain of sand behind her, she kept running. She reached her neighborhood, but she was scared to stray too far from home so she ran up and down the sidewalk until she saw her mom pull into the driveway. 

“Annie, have you been out here running this whole time?” her mom asked her, pushing the sweaty hair from her daughter’s forehead. 

“Yes, and I’m not even tired,” she happily replied. And she wasn’t. Not even an ounce. Instead she was floating in a euphoric, adrenaline rich world. 

The next day she tucked her tennis shoes inside her school bag so she could run home again that afternoon. 

And the day after that she did the same thing. Her mom saw the light in her eyes and started giving her more freedom by letting her get farther and farther away from home. She took her to the high school track on the weekends, and people started walking there just to see how many laps Annie would go. It was usually the whines for lunch from her younger siblings that stopped her, not fatigue. 

Before she was even nine, the high school track coach was giving her advice and helping her enter races. She traveled to the big city two hours away a few times a year to compete. Colleges and universities were sending her letters at least once a week. She felt the exciting pulse of her future.

***

Present day Annie looked down at her University of Arkansas sweatshirt, tucking her hands inside the worn sleeves. She was proud of her days as a Razorback, accumulating wins faster than anyone in school history, but her memories were riddled with pockets of shame. Looking around her now, she thought back to the first time in this situation.

It was the beginning of training her freshman year, and the distance runners were doing a pre-season race in Georgia. The morning of their flight, Annie felt nerves like she had only felt once before. She chalked it up to doing something new, the excitement of the race, and being on a plane again. 

The last time she had been on an airplane was when she was nine. The high school coach had encouraged her to enter a youth race in Pennsylvania over the summer. It was her first time on an airplane, and she never forgot the panic she felt sitting in that seat. Her mom was right beside her and held her hand, but it wasn’t enough. She had to breathe into a bag and lie on the floor with her feet up once the seatbelt sign went off. Her legs were noodles as they walked off the plane. She broke down crying in the bathroom at the airport vowing she would never ever fly again. And she didn’t. Until that day in Arkansas when her dreams outweighed the memories of a panic attack. 

She sat in her seat on the airplane at the Northwest Arkansas Airport, gripping the armrests with all her might. Her friend and teammate Chloe was trying to chat with her, but the words were muffled, and Annie felt her vision getting blurry as she tried to focus on what she was saying. 

Annie bargained with herself, “Get through this one flight and the rest will get easier. It’s just flying. Thousands of people do it every day. On the other side is my dream, my ticket to somewhere other than my hometown. I can make a name for myself. It’s just one plane ride.” 

It didn’t work though. The sensations got worse until she was hyperventilating, and the feeling of her heart working so hard sent her spiraling until she told the flight attendant she felt like she was having a heart attack, and they immediately called in emergency personnel to escort her off the plane. 

Over the weekend as she rested in her dorm, her teammates kept her in the loop about the race. Chloe had placed second in the 10K with a time Annie would have trumped by 30 seconds, easily. She felt defeated, trapped, beating herself up for not being able to fly like everyone else. 

Once the season officially started, Annie made the varsity team the first week with times that were making her name known nationally. The first meet away from Arkansas was coming up, and with each day the thought of getting on that plane again made her panic even more. She was standing in the line to get lunch when she overheard someone talking about flying to Jamaica for Christmas. The mere mention of flying caused her body to react; she had to leave her tray to run to the bathroom, lie on the cold floor, and wait for the anxiety to pass. 

She knocked on her coach’s door that Friday, hours before the trip. 

“I can’t do it,” she confidently but shamefully told him. 

He knew about her challenges with anxiety.

“Annie. I know it’s been difficult for you, but are you really going to let it stop you from reaching your potential?” he asked. 

“It’s not my choice. I feel powerless over this feeling, this fear,” she said, frustrated that he was making it sound like this was what she wanted. 

“I’ll talk to our team psychologist. Get her in touch with you. For now, I think I’ll have to put you on the roster for home meets only,” he replied without empathy. 

Annie wanted to crawl into a hole, quit the team, go back to her hometown. She didn’t though. She let the demotion fuel her. She spent the weekend running to clear her head followed by hours of research into how to get over this. Finally, as she was feeling exhausted from all the options, she found a book that another athlete had used to overcome stage fright. She devoured the book quickly and then went back through it again to start implementing the tools. 

The next few months were hard with ebbs and flows, panic attacks from pushing her boundaries too far before she was ready, and beautiful triumphs knowing she was on the right path. She had reached out to the athlete who led her to the book, and they had created a friendship. Through talking with him, Annie realized this was a lifelong journey, one that didn’t start in college and one that wouldn’t end in college either. She found this out the hard way when she tried to fly again her Junior year. It felt easier the days leading up, but once on that plane she had to get right back off. She felt incredibly defeated once again, but pushed forward with her mental training. Since she wasn’t traveling with the team she had extra time to run. And she did. Miles and miles and miles. She followed the protocols of Olympic athletes, reached out to the best mindset coaches, and spent time every day strengthening her body and mind. 

By the end of her Senior year at Arkansas she was ranked number 3 in the country, and she was ending her college career never participating in an away meet. Although her anxiety still limited her, it no longer defined her. She knew in her heart she was on the path toward recovery, and her ultimate goal of being an Olympic runner gave her motivation every time she doubted herself. 

Annie had become the team mindset leader, and Arkansas runners had earned the reputation of being the most composed and the most resilient, bouncing back from injuries, losses, and challenges quicker than anyone else. 

The elephant in the room still lingered though. Annie still hadn’t been on a plane again. The Olympic trials were set for 6 months after graduation. In Las Vegas. She heard her mind telling her the drive wouldn’t be so bad, but she knew that was her anxiety talking. Brushing the intrusive thoughts away, she bought a plane ticket. It was time. 

***

Here she was today, proudly wearing her Arkansas Track & Field sweatshirt, staring out the window as she buckled her seatbelt, hearing the pilot talk about the weather in Las Vegas. She felt that familiar fluttering in her stomach, but her training had given her the ability to see it as beautiful butterflies filling her with excitement instead of daunting panic. She tucked her headphones over her ears, listening to the gentle music as the plane glided into the air. She closed her eyes and smiled. The world was hers. 

The next day she won the trials, and three months later she was on an even longer flight to London. The little girl next to her on the plane looked scared, gripping the armrests in a way so familiar to her. 

Annie gently leaned over and asked her if she would like to listen to her music. The girl nervously agreed, and as Annie was getting it set up she talked to her about the tummy butterflies. The girl’s mom noticed Annie’s USA sweatshirt and began asking her if she was participating in the Games. Annie could have bragged about her running, but instead she told her about the journey of befriending her fears because she knew one day that story would help others, not her running accomplishments.