The first jump is always the scariest, but also the most thrilling. I haven’t felt more at home in a steeple pit than I have at school and it may be because I haven’t fallen into the cold water yet. Metzgar Fields is almost like a second home to me at school, the spanning green fields with another team’s music playing in the background depending on the season. After a bad day I know I can rely on whatever workout we have to empty all feelings of anxiety.
I’ve always considered our cross country course the hardest I’ve run on in college. The rolling hills are considered the worst part, but for me it’s the gnats that stick to every part of your body. It’s said that they flock to the highest point, so we all raise our hands to get them out of our faces, but it never really works.
Metzgar is somewhat out in the middle of nowhere, except in the fall with only our cross country team training towards the end of the season, you can see all of the subdivisions that surround the area through the trees who have lost their leaves. Any run from there involves getting lost in the veins of neighborhoods and forgetting what tree the street was named after.
Miracles happen at Metzgar. Miracles like beating Lehigh, making it onto the top 10 list, or running a personal best. Happiness and sadness both surround memories there, but what overpowers both is the memory of all those afternoons when the sun is setting while the team is heading back to the track. Back on the Lafayette College campus there is no spot that competes with the view of the sunset you get at Metzgar. Out there it’s a wide open space that provides almost a panoramic view of the beautiful oranges and pinks. Once practice is over we pack up our bags, get back into our cars, and drive back to the reality of tests, quizzes, homeworks, and late nights.