All the cool kids did it, and by it, I mean running. In fourth grade, I wanted to fit in and the only possible solution to being an outcast was to join the cross country team. I wasn’t the most agile, but I figured that running would be a quick fix. I was wrong.

Every Tuesday and Thursday before school, the cross country team practiced. I took charge of the back of the pack and mainly walked, but still saw myself as a cross-country runner. I envisioned myself winning all meets, even though I couldn’t catch up with anyone in practice. I let my ego get in the way when I ran in my first meet.

The bus pulled up to a big soccer field that branched off of a cemetery atop a giant hill that seemed never-ending. My body felt heavy as I heard that we would have to run three entire laps around it. The team did a practice lap around the perimeter but I decided not to join because I saw myself needing to save all my energy for the actual race.

I lined up to run and all the girls around me started pushing each other. As a pompous fourth grader, I thought I was better than all of them, so I didn’t need to push to be in the front of the pack.

The horn roared and everyone started off sprinting. I realized I wasn’t as fast as I originally thought. Plenty of girls at a time swarmed past me, pushing and shoving; I already wanted to quit. When we made it up the never-ending hill, we started a turn back down and I was stampeded to the ground.

Suffering from minor cuts and a bruised ego, I took advantage and played up that I was more hurt than I actually was. Tears streamed down my cheeks as my hands and knees were covered in scrapes that barely bled. I removed myself from the meet.

The trainer met me as I “limped” down the hill and I realized that I would never put myself in that position again — I simply wasn’t made for running. The Band-aids couldn’t fix the mental damage running put me through, and I decided to find another sport that would fulfill my athletic needs.

I began trying new activities; I joined jump rope club and found a healthy outlet in other sports that didn’t involve the unnatural movement of my legs. I enjoyed playing tennis where the only running involved were small sprints. I joined hockey and luckily became part of a team with little conditioning, and picked up golf, which was mostly walking.

I realized I didn’t have to try so hard to do the things I loved, and running on the cross-country team didn’t make me any cooler. I found that doing something for the status wasn’t fulfilling and that there is a sport out there for everyone. I have formed friendships through a mutual love for a sport, rather than pretending to love something I actually hated. I found my niche and realized that there’s more out there than just running to keep myself active and that some sports and activities aren’t for everyone, but there is always something out there for someone to keep themselves healthy and happy.