The Secret Life of NARPs

What would have been our last week of training was instead spent recovering in bed and wallowing in Adam Levine’s new hair color. Reminders of the upcoming race proved to be overwhelming throughout the week. A walk into town meant passing a screaming neon sign announcing road closures on Sunday, May 4, a check of Maddie’s e-mail meant receiving a reminder of final logistics from the Maple Run coordinators (seeing as how Maddie splurged on the $40 registration fee after the adrenaline rush following her first ever two-mile run back in week 2), and entering our dorm rooms meant seeing the training calendar without X’s on the last few days. We attempted to make the best out of a poor situation and hoped to karaoke our sadness away. After several dozen renditions of Seasons of Love, we felt better and put the microphone aside (also because Maddie took two too many puffs of her inhaler in  the hopes of reaching the big note at the end, and practically fainted).

Before we knew it Sunday had arrived. We headed to the starting line and were a little surprised at what we saw. Believe it or not, people seemed calm and casual considering that in a NARP’s eyes, they were about to run across the country. We had our night-before and race day agenda planned since day one of training, and had begun preparing to wake up early for the first time on a Sunday months in advance. Saturday would include a relaxing session of chatarunga — not chimichanga yoga — and a feast of carbs that Maddie would cook in the privacy of Izzy’s Middlebury home. Sunday would include a simple, yet filling meal with Gu packets in our sports bras and pre-race screenings include all of the following videos: US vs. U.S.S.R. hockey halftime speech by Kurt Russell, Will Smith’s emotional plea at the end of The Pursuit of Happiness and a montage of the Dillon Panthers saying “Clear eyes, full hearts, can’t lose” from Friday Night Lights (Tim Riggins, we love you).

We watched the runners bound into the distance and then headed back to Maddie’s room in Battell to watch them run from the window at mile seven. We were shocked to hear a bulk of the runners approaching the Chateau before ten o’clock. We really don’t even want to mention how far behind we would have been considering our steady 11 minute mile time.

We made our way to the finish line, and as everyone received their medals Izzy and Maddie’s eyes watered just a bit. We were both imagining our would-be triumphant finish. And no doubt we were both imagining flowers hitting our feet from cheering bystanders. Although we did not have those special moments, we have had a lot of other successes since February.

Despite our newly acquired partial athleticism, Izzy and Maddie are still NARPs through and through. These last twelve weeks have seen us entering the dining halls in athletic gear more often and increasing our gym attendance (by a grand total of three whopping times), but we have remained NARPs at heart. We felt closer than ever to all the unathletic people on campus who would emerge from the shadows of an Atwater party or approach us as we binged at Ross Mexican dinner to tell us that our athletic struggles are entertaining but also very relatable. Afterall, we aren’t the only ones who couldn’t go up two flights of Bi-Hall stairs without collapsing. Although our new athletic endurance didn’t leave us confident enough to sit at a circular Ross table during prime dinner hours, we have felt significantly better and healthier than ever. When either of us are in a funk, we have genuinely learned to utilize running as a therapy. Removing ourselves from the bustling atmosphere of the College gives us an hour to just breathe (albeit laboriously for Maddie) and contemplate the realisticness of our most recent Buzzfeed quiz results. This is the end of the road for The Secret Life of NARPs, but the one thing we want you to take away is that Last Friday Night (T.G.I.F.) is infinitely better than 2013’s Dark Horse (we’re talking to you, the one anonymous person who commented on our article online).