Next to the roads, where the sidewalks should be, sit large gutters overflowing from the week’s heavy rains. Often covered with plants and weeds or even entirely submerged, the ditches can be treacherous. One missed step and one of us might find ourselves deep inside a drainage canal. As a competitive cross-country runner in Costa Rica, conditions can be perilous on any given day and on any given run. While “cross country” implies running beyond the comforts of a high school track or gymnasium, I doubt that my peers on the Varsity teams in Fairfax, Virginia, where I lived before moving to Costa Rica, regularly dodge crater-sized potholes or run through tropical downpours for months on end. It is out amongst the elements, with the dogs nipping at my heels, cars racing by me, and men riding horses in the streets that I wonder if I would have been the same kind of runner had I grown up in the safe confines of the manicured suburbs of Virginia? Could I or would I have developed the same stamina, mentally and physically? …show more content…
As I think about it now, I matured alongside our growing and developing cross-country program. Young and perhaps more than a bit naive, I thought that my chosen sport would be a breeze. I loved to run, but after my first practice, I felt the physical exertion demanded by the sport. This was no casual jog around my gated community; this was real and every fiber of my being understood it. Throughout my freshman year, I worked hard, and my efforts were rewarded when I earned a place in an international athletic tournament (AASCA). However, I was disappointed by my performance and decided to double my efforts. I was quickly developing a deep appreciation for principles such as promoting teamwork, motivating others, and quick recovery from