If You're Ever Losing Faith In Humanity, Go Watch a Cross Country Race

Or a marathon, or an Ironman, or something of that nature.

This past weekend, I went to my cousin's high school cross country meet. It was a beautiful Saturday morning and it was such a treat to see my family. She ran very well, earning a new personal best and a top 10 finish! However, on my way home, my cheeks hurt. I had just stood there for about 3 hours just cheesin' so hard. I couldn't help myself. I was there cheering and reminiscing on my time as a cross country athlete.

I was also there just in awe of how everyone was cheering everyone on regardless of who they were, how fast they were running, what school was across their chest, or what race they were in. What struck me wasn’t just the competition. It was the crowd. Parents shouting names. Friends clapping for every single runner, not just the fast ones. Teammates waiting after their own races to cheer the last person in. There was so much pride in the air, and not because anyone was winning, but because everyone was trying.

I realized how much I’ve missed that feeling. The simple joy of humans being proud of each other for enduring something hard.

Miles That Changed Me

When I ran cross country for my senior year fall season, I acquiesced to my friend Macy asking me to run with her because while I am NOT a runner, I figured it would help me be in shape for basketball season and keep me tan for an extra couple of months. Luckily, three more of my closest friends, who also played basketball, had the same thoughts. So the five of us shook up the entire sport at our high school for that season. Four of us were seniors so we had the influence. We introduced team dinners, handshakes, and made friends with the underclassmen that we hardly would've even said hi to in the hallways at school.

This was our girls' team after we ran at one of the most challenging courses in the country - Rim Rock in Lawrence, KS. We were so proud to have braved the hills and the mud on that chilly morning!

Cross country is very challenging mentally and physically, but it was also one of the best decisions I have made to date. I was a D1 rowing athlete for four years. It is a sport where the only way to get better besides technique is to just become fitter and stronger. So every single workout was endurance based. Cross country laid the foundation I needed to be able to keep going when my body thought it couldn't.

Sweet friendships make the hard things worth it, every single time.

Looking back, I don't remember the coaches yelling at me or the grueling miles day after day. I just remember laughing, getting "lost" at a practice and making everyone jump in the pond, the bus rides, "family" dinners, the after-race bonfires, becoming excellent friends with the foreign exchange student, cheering for my new friends, earning a couple of medals, and all of the joy that comes along with the satisfaction of completing the hard things.

Those were some of the purest moments of my life. The kind that remind you what it means to belong to something. No one cared if you came in first or fifty-fifth. What mattered was that you didn’t quit.

The team seniors, we used our influence to make xc fun for everyone!

More Than A Race

Watching my cousin now, years later, brought all of that back. I saw the same nervous faces at the start line, the same mix of fear and excitement. I saw kids encouraging each other mid-race, runners helping someone up when they fell, people cheering for total strangers. There’s something deeply beautiful about the idea that endurance is worth celebrating all on its own.

Cross country has always been about more than running. It’s about heart. About showing up when it would be easier to stay home. About learning that effort can be enough.

As I stood there, I felt a deep sense of gratitude for every coach who pushed me, every teammate and competitor who ran beside me, and for the kids who are out there doing it all over again.

It reminded me that the world can feel heavy and fast and complicated, but there’s still something special about watching people do hard things just because they can. It’s a unique kind of hope you feel when you see someone finish a race, gasping for air, but smiling anyway.

That’s the beauty of showing up. It’s what makes us human. And it’s worth cheering for, every single time. Maybe that’s why I can’t stop thinking about that morning; the way a few miles on a grassy course can restore your faith in people. It’s easy to get cynical, to scroll past headlines and start believing that kindness is rare and connection is fading. But then you go to a race, and you remember: people are still good. They still show up for each other. They still cheer until their voices crack for someone they’ve never met. And maybe that’s all the proof we need that there’s hope in the world yet, not found in grand gestures or perfect performances, but in people refusing to quit on themselves and each other.

Find a high school cross country meet to go to, give it your best shot at your community 5K, or make a funny sign and watch a marathon this Fall. I guarantee, you'll be happy you did.

All my love,

Neva