It has been several months since I’ve seen any of my brothers, and I missed them.  As I looked out of the bus window, I reflect on all the things we did together from playing soccer in the backyard to mountain biking and snowboarding up north.  All these things made me smile, and made me anxious to see them later that day.  I had a track meet that evening and my older brothers Johann and Christian came all the way from Mount Pleasant to Rochester High School to see me run.  They both ran in high school themselves and were both very good cross country runners, which only created higher expectations for me.
I got off the bus along with my fellow teammates to see that Clarkston was just one of 8 other schools racing in this one invitational.  This made my stomach roll.  I can give a speech in front of an entire classroom, I don’t stress out about upcoming tests, but nearing a race is the most nerve racking thing for me.  But this feeling shortly passed when I got the warm welcome from my brothers.
“Hey sim!” they said almost in unison, “run hard today, alright?” Johann continued
“Will do!” I replied, with as much enthusiasm from running as you’ll ever get.  I knew that I couldn’t socialize too much, the 1600 meter run was coming up quickly, and I needed to mentally prepare myself for the race.  As I warmed up and stretched out I thought about how close to breaking the school record in the mile Johann was. Only if he hadn’t broken his foot in a race, the name ‘Johann Britting’ would be spelled out on the record board next.  This inspired me like nothing ever before, being the youngest of four boys I always wanted to be competitive at everything, especially running.
Just as I start to put on my race spikes I notice that the wind is picking up speed, and the skies are getting grey, but I don’t let that intimidate me or let it take my focus off the race.  Just before I take off my sweats I remember my goal of running a sub five-minute mile and the splits I need to get for each of the 4 laps around.  1:15, 2:30, 3:45, 5:00.  These numbers flew through my head at the speed of light imprinting them permanently into my brain.
Everyone that was running the 1600 meter lined up in a waterfall start, staggered in groups of 5 to 6 runners per lane.  The official fired the gun and we all took off running.  I realized that if I wanted to get my goal of running a five-minute mile I needed to get with the front group and stay with them, however I took into account that I had a tendency of going out too hard and not keeping pace, so I ran as controlled as possible while somehow still hitting that split of 1:15.
The next two laps seemed to take several eons of constant pounding on my legs, but it all becomes a blur when I got in my zone and had full focus on running the race.  By this time it was raining sideways and the wind was ferociously tearing at the skin on my face.  Nevertheless, I heard a voice screaming at either me or the kid just behind.
“46! 47! 48!” screamed the mysterious voice, as those numbers flew through my head.  I was too slow I thought to myself.  I could have given up, I could have slowed down just the tiniest bit for the sake of how much discomfort I was in.  But then I heard another voice scream at me, only this time I could recognize who it was.
“Go Simeon you can do it, go now!” yelled Johann at the top of his lungs.  I knew exactly what he meant by that.  With less than 400 meters to go I needed to sprint as fast as I could only imagine if I wanted to get my season goal.
Every morning every cheetah wakes up knowing that they have to be faster than a single gazelle in order to survive, and on those same mornings every gazelle knows that they have to be faster than the cheetah chasing their tails just behind them in order to survive.  This has been a daily thought of mine, every day of training is all for one moment, and that moment was now.  Now was the time to see what all of my training has put me, a matter of whether I was a cheetah or a gazelle.  That is all track and field is… survival of the fittest.
Maybe it was the feeling of flight as I rushed past person by person or maybe even the sound of my brother’s voice, but I felt an adrenaline rush like one that I have never felt before.  Regardless of how bad the weather conditions were, I managed to cross the finish line at a final time of 4:58. Even before I could carry my momentum to a stop, warm hugs and high fives were exchanged.
At that moment I realized that every time anyone ever asked me why I found running seven miles every day can be so enjoyable and rewarding, this is why.