In May of 2005, I was coaching the women’s distance runners on the Stanford Track & Field team. We had several excellent athletes on the squad, including Sara Bei, who some of you may now be familiar with as Sara Hall, the marathoner (and wife of 777 alum Ryan). Sara had finished 2nd place in the NCAA Championships 5000m in the spring of 2004, and as 2005 was her senior year, we shared dreams of her ascending to the top step. Also on the team that year was Teresa McWalters, a tough-minded sophomore who had shown promise, but had not yet experienced competition at the national level.
At a home meet in the beginning of May, Teresa fell off the back of the pack in her race so decisively that we suspected something was wrong, and sure enough, her iron levels were extremely low. For those of you familiar with these things, I believe she had a ferritin reading of 6. While addressing this issue, we held Teresa out of competition in the conference meet in hopes that she would be feeling better by the NCAA regional meet, for which she had already qualified. Meanwhile, Sara, the senior, won the conference meet 5000m, took a narrow second in the 1500m, and helped lead the team to the overall Pac-10 Track & Field Championship, the first in our school’s history. Thankfully, with such a strong team, we had the luxury of holding Teresa out.
Two weeks later, both athletes competed in the NCAA regional 5000m in Eugene, Oregon. Sara, the heavy favorite, successfully shifted gears at the appointed time and easily loped away for the victory. Teresa, while still not at her best, had the advantage of knowing Sara’s race plan and was able to execute just well enough to qualify for the national meet. For Teresa, this alone was cause for celebration after feeling so poorly just a few weeks before, and it represented her first time qualifying for nationals. For Sara, it was almost without celebration, as we had been so focused on how to attack the NCAA final.
Onward to nationals in Sacramento, where Teresa again luckily drew Sara in the prelim, and again, hopped on board the train with inside info on how the favorite was going to play it. 2 for 2 into the final.
In the 365 days since Sara had taken second in the race, we had probably dozens of conversations about this final, how we wanted to approach it and what we needed to do to prepare her for it. So far, so good, it was race day and she felt ready to go. As for Teresa, we had exactly zero conversations about this, except after things had fallen her way so favorably to find her way there after a low point little over a month before. In her case, this was completely “house money”.
The race began and our athletes sat back early as planned. Sara has a strong kick, and as we didn’t know quite what Teresa’s new limits were, we knew we didn’t want to find out before the second half of the race. The pace was slow - excruciatingly slow. Their high school selves would have kept up easily, and some of us might have been even able to hold on for a few hundred yards at their speed. Looking back, many of these athletes had doubled at their conference and regional meets and had arrived here a bit overcooked. Either way, they were jogging. As the laps passed, Sara sat comfortably, but Teresa was chomping at the bit and kept trying to catch my eye as she passed my spot at the top of the first curve. She felt good, and a bit impatient by nature, she wanted to experience this race the way she preferred it when at her best - squeezing the pace from way out.
Five laps in, I had to admit, Teresa looked good and she was absolutely dying to push this a bit earlier than we had discussed the night before. Next time she passed, I gave her the encouragement to go ahead and she immediately went to the lead. Wasting no time, she would run the next mile in 4:52, a pace that would have absolutely smashed her 5000m PR if sustained throughout. Sara, completely unfazed by her younger teammate taking the lead, moved along with her, along with a handful of the other top players. However, lap by lap, the tough pace set by Teresa wore them out one by one. With three laps to go it was Teresa, Sara, and two other athletes, the reigning 3000m indoor champion from Colorado, and a future Canadian Olympian from University of West Virginia.
At this point, I realized that this group had gapped the rest so decisively that Teresa was going to be in the top four, an incredible accomplishment. I was already happy for her, but remained pretty nervous for how things would play out for Sara. Then, the athlete from Colorado started to flag, and it was just the three of them left. Teresa continued to push, as all three knew her speed in the end would not be her best asset, while Sara and the athlete from West Virginia, Megan Metcalfe, tucked in behind, both confident in their ability to close. After all of our conversations (many, many, many conversations), we had agreed that in a scenario as she now found herself, to strike from 300m out. Sara looked poised, prepared, and ready to go. Plus, Ryan had won the men’s 5000m in the race directly before this, and it felt like a fairytale finish for both of them was on the cards.
Unfortunately, Megan had arrived at the same decision. As they rounded the second to last turn onto the backstretch, Sara went to make her move just as Megan made hers, forcing her to go double wide. So while committed to this push from 300m, they battled bravely around the final turn with Megan holding her off the inside and getting the final advantage to the line. In the blink of an eye, a year’s worth of goal-setting evaporated into tears in this final collegiate race for a great champion. But in the next blink of an eye, an incredible podium winning spot of 3rd place was won by a sophomore, who although dusted by the top two in the final 300m, held off the rest of the field with completely unexpected brave running in the middle of the race.
As a coach, I was completely lost for words, and as I stood there 50m beyond the finish, I watched them both approach - one absolutely devastated, and one ecstatic beyond belief, considering the month previous she had been completely out of the picture.
I often reflect on this moment - the great anticipation and hope for a perfect finish for Sara and how close we came, the complete absence of anticipation we had for such a tremendous result for Teresa. I’ll never forget that mix of emotions on their faces.
I’d like to think as a coach that I’ve also learned from that experience - to keep an open mind and be better prepared to pivot if unexpected circumstances demand (we should have had a more definitive Plan B for Sara), and that sometimes the absence of planning can provide space for imagination to thrive unfettered (Teresa had no idea how fast she could run so she just ran as fast as she could). Planning isn’t bad, but we can’t treat it as the only thing informing our success. It certainly won’t guarantee it. However, each time we do so, we learn more, and each time we succeed or come “this close,” we can still learn and grow even if the immediate emotions are raw.
As athletes, nothing is promised to us, but the experience of being in the arena is a chance to feel on the razor’s edge and test the limits of our body and mind. Sara didn’t win that race, but 21 years later, she just finished in the top 10 at our US 10K road championships, and prepares to toe the line against some of the world’s best at the Chicago Marathon this Sunday. Teresa earned several more All-American awards, competed at multiple Olympic Trials and now coaches others herself in the San Francisco Bay Area. Like for them, the race we are training for in January is not the end of a journey, but just one stage. Who knows what we will learn, who knows how our meticulous plans will fare and what unexpected joy might be around the corner.
Whether it is following what seems like a relentless and steady plan, or pivoting after an unexpected hurdle, prepare yourself to adapt and trust that the unexpected might also bring unimagined gifts.