In June of 1940, the false war had ended, and German troops arrived in an undefended Paris. At this point, all of Western Europe was either conquered or an ally of Germany. The only country left, and it was one of the smaller ones at that, was the island country of Great Britain.
To say things looked bleak is beyond understatement. German U-boats had severed almost every lifeline the island possessed, English war material was vastly inferior to Germany's, and the Luftwaffe (German air force) outnumbered the RAF (English air force) by 4-1. Western Europe had fallen in mere weeks; that an invasion of the islands was coming was obvious. The only thing that stood in the way was the meager RAF.
There were many who felt the cause was lost, that a negotiated peace with Hitler was the far more preferable alternative to invasion and destruction of the homeland. Hitler himself considered the Anglo-Saxon English brothers, and preferred not to destroy them. On paper it looked like the smart plan.
Winston Churchill, prime minister of Great Britain, would have none of it. He was a character of mettle seldom seen before or since. The idea of giving up was ludicrous to him. He didn't know how England would survive, he only knew they would, or would at least make Germany pay a full measure for every inch of English soil they touched. His words, laid in context to the fears and anxieties of his fellow Britains, are as inspiring to me today as they were to them:
"We shall fight on the beaches, we shall fight on the landing grounds, we shall fight in the fields and in the streets, we shall fight in the hills; we shall never surrender..."
I get chills every time I read this. It's a testament to courage and integrity, to an absolute focus on a job that must be done, no matter how hard or how long it takes. It's a testament to how a great leader, when the time seems hopeless and most desperate, that
one person can be all that stands between success or failure, life or death. These words put steel into the backs of the British, and comments I've read from those who were there speak of how broken they felt until they heard them, and then suddenly something in the message touched the deepest wells of their resolve. One account I read went something like this:
"We had just made our last flight over Dunkirk. Our armies were in disarray, our weapons lay on an enemy beach across the Channel, and we knew with certainty the Nazis would shortly follow us over. Just then I heard the radio address. I heard our Prime Minister, and I knew then he was right. Those bloody bastards would never set foot on our soil!"
Sometimes things seem pretty tough. Right now we have many things going right, and some things going wrong. The injuries are the big ones... at this point, some of it is out of our control, and we'll need some luck to pull it together. I can't predict how it will come out, and neither can anyone else. I do know, as an athlete that's had his share of injury over the years, you can't give up, no matter what. Sometimes when things seem their worst, you catch a break. We may have to get creative, try exercise or therapy we've never tried before, but athletics favor persistence. Like Churchill, you have to believe you're going to win in the end, even if you can't dream how it might be possible.
I for one choose to be optimistic wherever possible. I feel like we've been given a hard hand, but we are adapting and actually improving in spite of the adversity. There are girls who have stepped up and filled spots in a way that would have been difficult to imagine only a month ago. It would be easy to make excuses, to bail on workouts, to just not try hard. For these girls, that hasn't happened, at all.
This whole ordeal has cast the team into a weird spot... despite my best efforts, I'm afraid an unhealthy aspect of competition may be creeping in. I've been watching for the signs, especially since I had a hand in it (albeit unintentionally and out of necessity). I want everyone fighting for the top-7 spots. That has to happen. It always had to happen, no matter whether people were hurt or not. We have 15 girls. Seven get to run varsity in meets. The 7 fastest girls will run the meets. That has never changed.
What we all have to realize is the struggle we go through collectively creates that great team - and it can be great, that's our choice - when choose to see this from the selfless perspective. Your success isn't just about you running fast. It's also about what you contribute to the whole that makes others faster AND makes the team more competitive.
This is a mindset. It's sophisticated, and I'm challenging all of you to grasp it... you have to be selfish enough to fight for the spot you want and selfless enough to want the fastest 7 girls to run, even if it doesn't include you. You can never look for an easier way... you have to glory in the hard work you can do, in fact, embrace it and look forward to it. Prove to everyone around you how tough you are. Prove to everyone you are perfectly willing to outwork them anytime.
"You're faster than me? So what, I'll last longer!"
"You can run that hill? I'll do it 5 times!"
I'm not asking you to be in-your-face about this. Show it. Example from today's workout...
Carrie is looking great right now. She is responding to everything we're doing perfectly, and to be honest, is ready to take on anyone at any level, at least in spirit. This puts her ahead of everyone in practice, and she's doing exactly what she should - runs away on her own. She wasn't working too hard today - I know, I ran with her. She could talk just fine. We hit the Water Company at 15:15 for two miles, and we took it easy up the hill. 7:37 pace for easy? Yup, that happened.
Danielle on the other hand is still very muscle-weary from Brown County. I've not let her rest, either. I've laid a heavy load on her, because I feel this is what she needs to have the big taper. I think if we can hold it together she may just break 20. That's my goal. But for now, it's tough, really tough to be Danielle. She is watching Carrie run away and the racer in her doesn't like it. She could be spiteful and hateful, but that's not how she's handling it.
On the way back down the trail tonight, I staggered the girls. I sent the ones who were struggling first, then another group, then another group, and finally Carrie. Danielle had gone in the group just ahead of Carrie, and she knew exactly what would happen, because I've done it with her before.
"Okay Carrie, this is a race drill. Make your way through the groups one-by-one."
"All of them?" she asked.
I didn't want her to go quite that hard, so I said, "No, just Danielle's group."
Now comes the part where Danielle did it right. As sore as she was, as tired as she was, she told herself that no matter what, Carrie would not catch her. That singular thought possessed her. Pride rose in her heart, and she would not suffer giving Carrie a head start and still get caught. Wasn't. Gonna. Happen. And it didn't. Carrie would have had to flat-out sprint to get her, and I don't know if she could have even then.
Now I'm very proud of how Carrie has accepted her responsibility on the team, how willing she is to fight all the time, and how she understands that, unless she finds a way to match up with Salem's #1 runner, we're in trouble at Regional.
But tonight, I think I'm more proud of Danielle. In spite of all the odds, when it would have been easier to accept what seemed an inescapable fate, when she could have let it all climb in her head and defeat her, instead she focused on the one thing that would keep her going. That's racing folks, hard-core racing.
"We shall fight on the beaches, we shall fight on the landing grounds, we shall fight in the fields and in the streets, we shall fight in the hills; we shall never surrender..."