My running love story

All-American triathlete Sarah Wassner Flynn was once a reluctant runner. Here, she shares how grit and glory inspired her to keep pounding the pavement.

A month before my first day of ninth grade, my mom knocked on my bedroom door and asked me if I had thought about which sport I'd be going out for. Without hesitation, I replied I'd be trying out for cheerleading. As if it was even a question.

Never mind that I had zero experience in cheer. And zero rhythm, for that matter. I was totally convinced cheering would propel me to instant popularity, something I placed tons of value in as a naive, incoming freshman.

At tryouts, I fumbled my way through the fight chant, blew the choreographed dance and did a few wobbly round-offs before the cheer captain tapped me on the shoulder and told me I hadn't made the first cut. I went home crushed, convinced high school was over before it even began.

That night, my mom came to my room again. This time, she offered her sympathy and a simple suggestion. "Sarah, you should try cross-country," she said, passing me a box of tissues. "I think you'll really love running."

Truth is, deep down, I knew I'd do well in cross-country. Ten years as a competitive swimmer had given me a pretty powerful engine when it came to exercise, especially endurance sports. In middle school, I was always the fastest girl in the timed mile. But I also feared running. I didn't like the feeling of being out of breath, the sensation of sweat trickling down my body or the way my face turned a shade just lighter than a cherry tomato after a few minutes on the move.