I sat on the edge of the pool, heaving last Friday
"I thought this would be easy," I shouted at the lifeguard who was actually on duty in between heavy breaths
We've been mates for awhile I suppose, so I wasn't uncomfortable wearing almost no clothes in front of him
My relay partner was returning so I stood up, still breathing too hard,
Ignoring the bruises on my shins from the side of the pool
I jumped in, turning to face him (terminator style) as the water swallowed me,
Grabbed the brick, swam the fifty
Stood up on the edge right away this time, entirely focused on my body and my partner

I got lost on a mountain once
My friend and I had been climbing nearly straight up for an hour before we realized we'd lost the trail
We also realized that going down would be infinitely more challenging than coming up
Covered in scratches and bruises, with burs in our hair and the sun setting and no idea how we had lost the Appalachian, we called my dad
When I finally got home, with no help from him, he said,
"I'm glad you got lost. You learned something today."
The water I had hidden in his pickup truck may have saved our lives

A football player pushed me up onto the two foot side of the pool to do a tricep dip at the instruction of my teacher
This was the first time I realized how weak I was, pale and sickly and tired and trying to change
We have already done fifty nine pushups and sit ups and sprints on the deck
I passed out at six pm that night
And got up at six am the next day
Wrapped my wrists for English and chemistry,
And replaced the braces with grips when I got to the gym

I think disappointed was the only word I could come up with as my sister drove me to the ER the day before she left for college
She'd spent eighteen years growing up, and this was the first time I felt like she was still a child,
Scared and vulnerable, turning off the lights for me while we waited for the doctor and my dad
More CT scans,
"Lie still, don't move,"
I could swear I was in a mortuary, in my coffin, too young for my liking
This was before my second training session, and I was afraid I was going to have to quit

My girlfriend and I did our first run together, holding steady to her 11 minute-mile-pace
Except for the mandatory sprints on my training app
I took her in between trees and across the farmland I grew up on
There was no talking, we each had our own music
But she got to feel something I loved, and I got to be with her, sense her footsteps out of sync with my own
We got caught in the rain

"Excuse me, Coach, Sir," I said out of habit, when he told me to call him Coach and not Sir
It was the first time I passed my physical for a sport
He had me running three miles on the first day, and the second, and the third, and I got lost
(This became a running theme in my quest to "get better")
Suddenly, I wasn't the girl in the hospital gown anymore,
Although the one person on the team who knew me asked me if I had my medication every day
If I didn't, he stayed back with me
He was safe, for some reason
I ran my second 10k that year