CAMBRIDGE, Mass. - The 2023 Senior Perspectives is the 18th in a series of annual collections. Senior captains and representatives of teams at Harvard have been invited to contribute viewpoints based on personal experience from both their senior seasons and full varsity careers at Harvard.
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Hometown: New York, N.Y.
Sport: Women's Cross Country/Track and Field
Concentration: Neuroscience
House: Adams
When I joined the cross country team in high school, I had never run more than half a mile. Last week, I ran 80.
On the first day of preseason, I hobbled home and truly could not imagine getting through another day, let alone a whole season. If you had told me that seven years later, I
would be captain of Harvard's cross country team, I would have laughed. Yet even then, I knew how much I loved this sport. I originally joined the team because I merely wanted to make friends at my new school, and out of all the fall sports, cross country sounded the easiest. I quickly learned that that latter part could not have been further from the truth, but my excitement and respect for the sport grew with every tough practice. I worked my way from the back of the pack to the top of podiums, and by the end of high school, I thought I had figured it out.
I showed up to my first cross country practice at Harvard with a renewed sense of confidence and comfort from years of experience and success. Yet somehow, I found myself in the back again. I knew I was a bit out of my depth as a walk-on to a Division I program, but I was stunned by the seemingly huge step backward I had just taken. Merely showing up to practice and wanting to be good was not enough. I was training harder and running faster than I ever had before, yet I found myself falling further and further behind. For every second that I shaved off my personal record, my teammates shaved off ten. I struggled both physically and mentally, as my frustration grew over what felt like a setback at the time, but what I now understand to be a major accomplishment.
Over the course of the following two years, my relationship with my training drastically changed, and along with it my expectations for myself. Coach Gibby saw this transformation coming months before I did, which paved the way for my changing trajectory as an athlete and teammate. I remember having a conversation with him on the phone after running my first 5k. The time was unimpressive, and even disappointing, but he coined this race as my "lightbulb moment;" not all athletes experience it, but when they do, their future potential is limitless. I committed to the hardest training I have ever put my body and mind through, and I eventually earned a spot on the travel team to compete at regional and national stages. I went from being on the lowest mileage plan in the group, to competing in the longest track event there is: the dreaded 10k. The most rewarding part, however, was my rediscovery of my deep love for this sport and my teammates.
Seven years ago, I had no idea how important running would become to me. Even though some might consider cross country to be an individual sport, running 80 miles a week is impossible without people by your side. When I think back on my time with the team, I smile about the hours spent driving to run laps around some random high school track, discovering hole-in-the-wall burrito places after Sunday long runs, and scavenging for pre-race quad shots of espresso. My experiences with the team have allowed me to enjoy all the ways in which running exemplifies the importance of dedication, collaboration, hard work, humility, and perseverance. The strength I have gained from getting back up from setbacks has made me more understanding and accepting of myself, which is something I will be forever grateful for.
