I was able to ignore Youngmin for the rest of the day, but I knew that I’d have to talk to him after school when he introduced me to the track coach.  Sighing, I grabbed my bags and headed for the locker rooms.  I changed into my comfortable running clothes: black running shorts, electric blue running tank top, and my favorite pair of Nikes.  Pulling my long blonde hair into a ponytail, I was ready to go.  With water bottle in hand, I jogged out to the track.  I sighed in relief when I noticed that two figures were waiting for me.

“Kwangmin!  Hi!” I greeted enthusiastically.  I completely ignored his twin.

“What about me?” Youngmin complained cutely.  I bit my lip from commenting.

“Where’s the coach?” I asked, looking around.  There were a few kids jogging laps and others doing other track-related events.  “Are these the varsity kids?”

“Coach is talking to some kid in his office but he said they’d be done soon,” Kwangmin informed.  “And yes, these are varsity kids.  Intense, huh?”

I nodded vaguely, suddenly getting nervous.  Would I be able to make varsity?  I watched the girl runners and tried to gauge whether I could be a threat to their spot.

“Should we stretch?” I asked, feeling uncomfortable just standing around.

Without waiting for a response, I sat down and touched my toes, beginning my warm-up routine.  They joined me, Youngmin looking glum, though I tried to ignore him.  I think Kwangmin noticed the tension in the air because he tried to initiate a conversation.

“So, Jin Haneul, how long have you been running?”

 “I guess I’ve always been running,” I mumbled.  I stopped myself before I could say anything else.  Why did I say that?  Pabo, pabo, pabo.  Think before you speak!

“Oh, so it’s just a natural thing?” he asked.

I laughed in relief as I changed my position.  “Yeah, I guess you could say that.  I didn’t start competing until sixth grade.  That’s when I joined the cross country team at my middle school in Idaho.  I moved from there after that year, but it was enough to get me to fall in love with running.”

“Which do you like better?  Track or cross country?”  That question came from Youngmin.

I looked to Kwangmin when I answered.  “Definitely cross country.  I don’t like the idea of a broken family, what with all the different events going on at the same time.  In cross country, everyone is there for one purpose, to run.”  I stood up, stretching my quads. 

“Track isn’t all bad,” Kwangmin defended.

“Oh, I know,” I said.  “I wouldn’t be doing it if I didn’t like it.”

“There’s Coach!” Youngmin suddenly exclaimed.

I turned around and saw a lithe man walking towards us.  He was skinny, but tone, definitely a runner.  As he approached I felt my heart rate go up.  This was the man I had to impress.  He finally reached us and I bowed.

“You must be Jung Jin Haneul, correct?” he asked in a deep voice.

I nodded.  “And you are Coach?”

He grunted in conformation.  “Have you warmed up yet?”

“I’ve stretched, but I haven’t done any warm up laps.  I was just about to begin those.”

“Go ahead and do what you normally do.  You’ve ran before, I trust.”

“Yes, thank you.  Is there anything you want me to do?”

Coach shook his head.  “No, I want to see what you’ve got to offer.”

Heart beating just a bit quicker, I bowed again before heading to the track.  As soon as my sneaker treads hit the track, I was in my element.  My shoulders relaxed and my breathing became regulated.  This was my home.  I set off at a nice, easy jog, completing three laps.  On my fourth lap, I turned around and ran backwards.  I was taught that this prevented shin splints and since I hadn’t ever gotten any, I figured it must work.  I watched out for other runners, a talent I had obtained after my coach back in Washington had told us to do this exercise.  When I was finally finished, I stopped in front of Coach, lightly sweating.

“Good, are you warmed up now?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Then get on the line.  I want you to run a mile.  Run it like you would a race.  This is a timed trial.  I hope you’re ready.”

I grinned.  “I am.”

I stepped up to the starting line on the inside lane.  All other runners had been warned to stay out of my path.  They looked at my small frame dubiously and I smirked.  They had no idea.

“Ready.  Set.  Go!”

With that one word, I took off.  My shoes pounded on the black surface of the ground, ponytail wagging.  Some runners needed that first lap to settle into themselves, to find their gait.  I didn’t need that.  I slipped into that state in my first warm up lap.  Now, I flew around the oval, holding myself back just a little.  As I passed Coach and the twins for the first time, I expected to hear my time, like what I was used to in timed trials and races.  No one said anything.  Mentally shrugging, I picked up speed.  I rounded a second time and by this time, I was no longer aware of my surroundings.  It was just me, the wind, and the track.  I didn’t notice any other runners, didn’t hear any voices.  On my third lap I picked up my pace again, still holding back.  Sweat ran down my face, sliding down my arms and legs.  My breath labored in my throat.  I rounded the corner for my fourth and final lap, finally letting out.  I nearly flat out sprinted –nearly, not quite.  100 meters.  200 meters.  300 meters.  That last stretch straightened out in front of me and I sprinted hard.  My arms pumped furiously, legs ing me forward, feet murdering the ground.  My eyes narrowed in concentration, fighting back the fatigue that threatened to over take me.  50 meters left.  25 meters…10 meters…  I crossed the finished line, letting my speed carry me another 50 meters.  Satisfied and beat, I turned back around to head back to Coach and the twins, but stopped dead in my tracks.

There was a reason I hadn’t seen any people on the track, and it wasn’t because I was in the zone.  Everyone had gathered on the side, a small group of adults and athletes staring dumbfounded at either me, the timer, or the track.  Embarrassed at the attention and nervous about my time, I lightly jogged over to the gathering, my focus on Coach and that little timer in his hand. 

“So,” I gasped, hands resting on the top of my head, “did I make it?”

Numbly, Coach nodded, showing me my time. 

5:32.

5:32. That was a personal record for me!  My fastest time had been 5:41.  I was so happy that I burst out laughing, which wasn’t exactly laughing, more like gasping, but with a smile.  Murmurs sounded among the spectators, though I didn’t catch what any of them were saying, nor did I care.  I had made the team!  That’s all that mattered.

“Great job!” Youngmin shouted, pulling me into a hug.

I was too exhausted to push him away.  Besides, I was incredibly happy too.  I returned the embrace, a goofy grin on my face.  I felt a hand pat my back and I turned my head to see Kwangmin grinning next to me.

“Yeah, you were daebak!  Who knew you had it in you?”

I pulled away from Youngmin, looking at Coach.  “When do I begin practice?” I asked him.

“Tomorrow,” he grunted.

I smiled, knowing that now I had returned home again.

Hey ya'll! Guess what!?!!!!!!! I finally have a subscriber! Yayyyy!!!!! I am so happy! Thank you CuteyDuckey21 for being my very first subscriber ever! Now how about you guys comment ;P

I don't know how well I wrote the running scene.  Were you all able to understand her passion for running?  More to come :)