Photo finish

Sometimes a good moment and a bad moment can happen at the exact same time.

Even in a race.

Last Friday, my top runner competed in the 1600-meter race at our Area Championship Track Meet, the day after she placed fifth in the 3200. Only the top four places move on to the regional meet, so it was obviously disappointing, and she was looking to redeem herself. We knew it would be a huge challenge, though. She was sitting at fifth in the rankings going into the race, and the four girls in front of her were like her personal Goliaths—she had never beaten any of them.

But my precious Morgan looked confident warming up, and she didn't even seem very nervous during my pre-race speech to her. I think I might have had more anxiety than she did right then.

When the gun went off, the two top girls didn't wait too long to separate themselves from the rest of the pack. Morgan was sitting well with three others, while the last two trailed pretty far behind that middle pack. The first two laps looked great, but I started to get a little worried during the third lap when two of the girls started pulling away from Morgan, which left her sitting in fifth.

Again.

On the final lap, I was concerned that the gap had grown too big. With 200 meters left, one girl pulled farther ahead to ensure she'd clinch third, and the girl in fourth (who usually dominates our district) appeared as if she had her ticket to regionals in the bag.

And then things changed.

Better than the finishing pic

When I looked up to see Morgan with 100 meters left in the race, there was a look of determination on her face that can't even be described as wonderfully as it should. She wanted this. "Holy schnikes! She's gonna catch her!" She had gained so much ground on her and was literally expending every single ounce of energy she had left in her already worn-out body. At the very end of the race, no one in the area could even tell who captured that last spot to advance to the next meet. I frantically started asking everyone, but they all said they couldn't tell. Well, they had cameras at the finish line (and I even had the official go to the press box to review), and my little Morgan barely missed out by .02 of a second.

Heartbreak.

When we saw the final times and places pop up on the scoreboard, I wasn't sure how my kiddo was going to take it. The previous night had left her in tears (we actually had more hope for her going in the 3200), and Friday night's race was so close that I thought it would hurt even more. But, instead of letting her emotions get the best of her, Morgan—in a very composed and matter-of-fact way—looked up and said, "You know what, I'm happy with it. I know I didn't make it, but I just ran the race of my life, and that's all I could do."

Disappointments are going to be common in our lives, but it's how we handle them that shapes who we are as individuals. Morgan could have been down on herself all night and let everyone know how upsetting it is to come so close to obtaining a goal and not reaching it. But she chose a more mature route—one that allowed her to be proud of breaking her own school record and finishing a race with more guts than she ever has.

And it was nice to see her smiling with the friends who came to support her rather than them comforting her as she wept in their arms. I'm proud of her for being bold and not breaking down—and now she has even more determination for the seasons to come (she's only a sophomore).

Things definitely won't always go the way we want, but even the biggest disappointments can turn out to be the greatest sources of motivation.