The dictionary defines cherish as “a verb meaning to hold dear, care for with affection, or keep a hope or memory alive in your mind.” It’s a word used frequently, but probably not always in that exact context. And that’s okay because something worth cherishing, is probably YOURS to cherish so feel free to make up your own semantics.
Three weeks from this Saturday are the Kansas State Cross Country Championships. If you’re a senior, that will be the last time, if not sooner, that you’ll wear your school’s cross-country uniform. It’s been a long journey from the baggy-shorts; oversized-jersey; and bulging shin guards of your tiny person youth soccer days or any other youth sport you cut your teeth on. Now, you’re a streamlined distance runner and your cross country kit suits you well. Cherish the last time you put it on in the weeks ahead. And cherish the last time you take it off as well. (It deserves a good wash and fold.)
Also, if you’re a senior, you’ll run one last time on that one route at 3:30 p.m. in the afternoon. Up to now, you took it for granted as you contemplated the workout you were about to do because that run was the warm-up; or maybe it was just another recovery day and the miles on that route were the focus more than any individual step; or maybe it was the beginning of a long run and when that route was the chosen one, all you could do was think about the turnaround point instead of the familiar landscape around you and casual conversation that carried you through it. Cherish that last run on that route in the weeks ahead. Each step. And especially think about those first and last 10 to 20 steps and cherish them and the route and their role in making you the person you are today.
And if you’re a senior, you’ll probably run that route with your teammates for one last time. Those runs have resulted in different, alternative, routes; nicknames being arrived at; world’s problems being solved, (because who doesn’t do that on a run?); and, most importantly, creating friendships with others who may not be your best friends, but they’re friends who got the best out of you. And for that, you’ll forever cherish those runs, so thank those running partners because they got the purest and best out of you. And they’ll cherish running with you just as much.
If you’re a senior, for one last time you’ll ride in a van or bus to a cross country race. Chances are you’re traveling to a familiar venue, but you’ve never quite paid attention to the scenery on the way there in previous rides. Probably didn’t pay much attention to who was driving you either. And in between games of Among Us or Miley Cyrus’ "Party in the U.S.A.," you weren’t entirely aware of who was sitting next to you or across the aisle from you. Cherish that last ride. Look out the window for one last, or first, time; thank the person who drove you; and fist-pump your riding neighbor even if they aren’t your best friend on the team and cherish the last time you may ever be on a school bus or van with them.
If you’re a senior, this may be the fittest you’ll ever be. (Sad to think, isn’t it?) But don’t be dismayed, as you are a finely tuned, ironclad, steel-plated, endurance warrior willing to go through pain and discomfort to reach an inevitable teenage goal. You don’t have to be that to still live a very healthy life. But cherish this fitness. Cherish that your resting heart rate is probably lower than the age of your parents and your VO2 max is probably higher than the age of your grandparents. Cherish those numbers at the young age of 17 or 18, and thank your mind, body, and belief system that allowed you to get to them.
And, if you’re a senior, you’ll never want sports again as you will the next few weeks. You’ll want to run your fastest; want to place your highest; want to be the happiest; and want to enjoy cross country the most. All of those may happen and none of those may happen. But cherish that want. You’ll never want like that again.
As the author of The Art of Living, Sharon Lebell, put it, “… caretake these moments. Don’t be a disinterested bystander in your own life. Focus on the people you’re with and appreciate the brief span of time you have to do what matters to you with all that you have… stop fretting about futures and pasts you can’t control and make it so that if this is the last time you do this, you’ll feel okay about it.”
And moms and dads of seniors, awkwardly cheer on your child these next few weeks. Be embarrassing; corny; over-the-top; and loud. Your cheers aren’t just for their last race. They’re for that baggy-shorted; oversized jersey-wearing; bulging shin guarded tiny person, right? (They're still that person, aren't they?) Watch them go, mom and dad. Whether they’re first or last or somewhere in between, they’re yours. Your cheers aren’t for encouragement. Your cheers are you telling them how much you love them. So, let the world know how much you love them. And cherish that because like everything we cherish, it’ll last forever.
Best wishes Kansas seniors, and see you on the course.
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