My Twenty Seconds of Courage This Week
Written by Edith Manfred. Graphic by Laura Garcia Gomez.
There’s the famous saying that twenty seconds of insane courage can change your life, and while we may not all be Matt Damon meeting our fictional wives in the 2011 movie ‘We Bought a Zoo,’ those few seconds of courage can still get you a long way.
This week that took the form of putting aside my fears at my first outdoor track meet of this spring track season. Having been a competitive distance runner for nearly my whole life, I’m no stranger to pre-race nerves. That stomach-dropping sensation of dread mixed with delight is a regular friend of mine, and often, those nerves are a sign that I have a healthy respect for the significance of racing. However, the regularity of that anxiety doesn’t make it easier to toe the starting line of a race, no matter how prepared I am.
At that moment, when the official lifts the starting gun and all competitors brace themselves for the starting shot, suddenly nothing matters. Time truly stands still in a way unlike anything else. You’ve put in the days, months, and even years of training; it all culminates in moments like those. In that split second, you have a decision to make: whether to back down and stay in your comfort zone or embrace the ultimate vulnerability of testing your limits. As any runner or athlete in general will tell you, we don’t always pick the honorable latter option. However, this past Friday in Daytona Beach, Florida, I’m proud to say I chose the limit-testing fight.
It’s common knowledge for competitive runners that you most often sabotage yourself before the gun goes off. It’s not uncommon to talk yourself out of testing your limits before the race begins because you’re anticipating the pain and fear of the feat to come. In moments like this, it’s essential to enter a sort of meditative flow state that prevents self-doubt and fear. It’s a hard task, but those moments before the gun goes off are when some of the hardest mental work happens.
In the aforementioned track 5k, my true twenty seconds of courage came before the race even began when I was faced with a difficult choice between staying in my mental comfort zone or taking the risk of trying something new. I was warming up and doing my usual activation drills when my coach informed me that I was to try something new in this race: ignore the time on the clock. As any dedicated runner will tell you, numbers are nearly everything. I have spent more of my life stressing over a few seconds in a 5k time than a few points in my GPA. As my coach told me, I faced a choice: whether to stay in the comfort zone of familiar numbers and splits or to step out of that zone and ignore the clock. In a very short period of time, I had to decide to trust my coach and ignore the numbers. Those few seconds of scared decision-making informed more of my race outcome than anything else because I made the firm mental decision to step outside my competitive norm and take a risk.
Once the gun fires and the athletes begin running, all bets are off. Every plan you thought you had becomes subject to over a dozen other athletes who all have their own race plans and personal battles to fight. On Friday, I’m thankful to say my twenty seconds of courage made all the difference. My racing was confident and brave, which wouldn’t have been possible if I hadn’t previously decided to step out of my comfort zone and ignore the clock.
We don’t only face the quandary of courage on track starting lines; we face it every day in so many parts of life. In everything from trying a new skill in class to reaching out to the person sitting alone at lunch, we grow through the choices we make. Let’s challenge each other to use those twenty seconds of courage to push ourselves to new heights of self-discovery. Leave your comfort zone behind and take the leap; you never know how far it can take you. For me, it took me 3.1 miles around a 400-meter oval.
As Editor-in-Chief, Edith Manfred guides and supports a talented group of staff and contributors in pursuing their creative endeavors at District. At SCAD, Edith is a Photography major with a minor in Graphic Design, and is a part of the Cross Country and Track & Field teams. Outside of writing and taking photos for District, she can probably be found running long distances on the streets of Savannah, updating her blog, or talking about that new podcast she just listened to… again.
