I can vividly remember my first track race. It took place in early 2000 while I was a sophomore at Bishop Kelly High School in Boise, Idaho. The head track and field coach had seen me on the cross country course in the fall, and somehow convinced me to give up spring soccer for track.
Given that I had shown a proclivity for distance running, the head distance coach, Tom Shanahan, suggested I begin with a 2-mile. I was used to racing 5-K cross country, so I thought that two totally flat miles sounded quite easy. However, as race day approached, I began to feel an overwhelming sense of dread for this 8-lap test.
"What if I'm terrible?" "What if I finish dead last?" "Everyone is expecting me to do well; will they all laugh at me if I fail?"
I couldn't shake these thoughts from my head as I sat through class that day. As seventh period approached I started to think of ways to get out of the race: "There's no way they will make me race if I throw up in class." "If I twist my ankle on the warm-up, certainly I'll get out of the race."
Thoughts like these ran through my mind right up until the moment the gun went off. With that loud CRACK, my mind was silenced, and my legs began to work. I was not embarrassed that day, but rather felt an enormous amount of pride winning the race in 10:24. The fact that I can look back on that afternoon and remember my time down to the second should convey how important a moment it was for me.
Fast forward 13 years, and I find myself sitting in a hotel room in Moscow, Russia, getting ready to race in the men's 800-meter final at the 2013 World Championships. I no longer waste the mental energy trying to plot ways of getting out of the race. In fact, I've made many sacrifices in my personal life to ensure that I have a spot in this race. I've sacrificed time with my family, moments with my friends, personal relationships, and hundreds of days at home. I've trained nearly every day since that first 2-miler, to strengthen my heart, lungs, and legs to prepare my body for the fight my competitors will give me.
I still feel the nerves, certainly, but at this point in my career they're a welcome friend; they prime my system to perform at its best. That being said, it's vital to harness that energy and save it for the race. To do so, I must keep my mind distracted for the 48 hours between the semis and the finals.
I do this best by spending time with those closest to me. On Monday I had the pleasure of meeting up with my mom, dad, and sister, who traveled halfway around the world to support me at this event. Thanks to the wonderful hospitality of Nike, we were able to enjoy a delicious lunch in Moscow's famous Red Square with my manager, Chris Layne, and coaches Mark Rowland and Sam Lapray. For several hours our conversation drifted from subject to subject, very little of it regarding the race. It is in moments like these, surrounded by friends and family, that I'm able to remind myself that, no matter how the finals go, I am truly blessed, and the nerves quiet a bit more.
Editor's note: The men's 800m final is scheduled for 1:10 p.m. Eastern today.
The Symmonds family in Red Square: From left: Andrea Symmonds, Nick, Lauren Symmonds, Jeffrey Symmonds.
