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The
Goal
by Missy Buttry '05
The gate opens. All the
runners burst into a sprint around the
curve of the track. Lights are flashing,
people are cheering, and runners are
doing their last preparation before the
gun will sound. My heart is racing and my
stomach turning. I do a couple of strides
down the track and look into the crowd.
There they are, all lined up in their
orange “Missy’s Fan Club”
shirts with my parents and oldest brother
standing there screaming my name. They
are my biggest fans and supporters: my
family. I tell myself to
relax; it’s only a race, and then I
say a prayer that God will give me the
strength to run this race.
The starter calls us all over and gives
us the starting commands and then lines
us up by our hip numbers. The announcer
comes over the loudspeaker: “Welcome
to this year’s Olympics Trials. We
have a tough field here in the
women’s final 5000 meter run.”
I drown him out and focus on what is in
front of me. I hear him announce my name
and my parents and coaches cheering. Then
all becomes silence and it was the
starter and us. “Runners set!”
Bang! We’re off!
Ever since I was six I had dreamed of
going to the Olympics in track and field.
We used to have this old pair of starting
blocks in our toy shed outside. In the
summer I would go out and place the
blocks in the yard and give myself a
starting command and a gun sound. Then I
would sprint as fast as I could down a
straightaway and raise my hands at the
end and, playing the announcer, announce
that I had just won! I have to thank my
parents, for they are the ones who got me
into track and field and running. My
parents, my older sister Mandy, and my
older brother Luke would go out into our
lane (which is 300 meters long, about)
and would run laps up and down it. I
remember running up and down with my
parents until I was tired and then I
would quit and go play or sit in the lane
waiting for them to finish. A couple
nights each week in the summer, we would
drive into the track in town and run
there and go to Dairy Queen afterward as
a treat. My parents would drive us around
on the weekends to race in community
track meets and the Junior Olympics. I
had no interest in running the longer
events when I was younger. I would run no
farther than a 200 and thought that I was
a sprinter. I finally got sick of losing
because there were girls with faster foot
speed than me and decided to move up in
distance.
The time I finally decided that I
wasn’t a sprinter and should try the
longer events was after a meet in
Clarinda, Iowa. I was running
the 100 meter dash got 3rd when I was
out-leaned at the end by a girl who was a
little overweight. My brother made fun of
me, so I decided that I would be
switching events. My parents and brother
still make fun of me for that today. I
wasn’t the most dedicated to running
as a child. I would find out about a meet
and train for a couple of weeks and then
go and compete. As I got older, my sister
Mandy was running in junior high and high
school track meets, so we would have to
drive all over to watch her run. I love
watching track and field and Mandy was
one of the state’s best. Mandy
instilled the competitive drive into me.
Every time she would set a new record, I
would plan how I was going to break it
when I got up there. Mandy would always
take time to run a couple of runs during
the summer, which always got my
confidence up.
Junior High Track
Once I hit junior high, I was excited and
ready to go. But I first had to go
through a season of basketball. My best
friend and I were excited and ready for
track. We would sit in basketball
practice and games talking about how fast
we were going to run. Mandi Ketcham and I
had grown up next to each other and had
been best friends since kindergarten.
Mandi and I would have to go and watch
Dusti and Mandy, our older sisters, in
all their track meets and made plans
about how we were going to beat them. We
couldn’t wait for track to start.
There were times in junior high when my
mom would pick us up from basketball
practice and we would have her drop us
off about 2 miles away from Mandi’s
house and would run to her house. One
time, after a hard practice Mandi and I
decided to have my mom drop us off and
run. We got tired and decided to start
walking until Mandi’s mom could see
us out the window. Then
we decided to run the rest of the way so
no one would know that we
walked.
Track finally came and we were more than
ready. The first day we just got our
sweat suits and schedule and listened to
Coach Ratliff talk. The first week was
running down to the track and timing the
100, 200, 300, 400, 600, and 800. I
remember beating everyone in every event
but the 100 and 200, which Carrie Walker,
our fastest sprinter, won. Coach Ratliff
would talk to Carrie and me about how
fast our distance medley would be with
both of us on it and how we were going to
win the conference meet with Carrie
dominating the sprints and me in the
distance. I remember Coach Ratliff, after
every workout, would come up and tell me
to run an extra mile or two. I remember
doing laps by myself around the track as
everyone but the girls doing field events
would leave. I was always the last one
out of practice.
My first race in junior high I will never
forget. I think my dad planned
it that way. I was out running the 1500
and I remember taking off and sprinting,
not knowing how to pace myself that
well. I was a little too
excited about it being my first junior
high race. I got to the second lap and
was exhausted, so I stopped and started
to walk. Well, I took about ten steps
when I saw my dad racing toward me,
yelling “Floating Head,” which
was his motto about, “if you only
have a head, then your body can’t
hurt.” He told me to get my butt to
running now! I was so scared that I
sprinted the rest of the race and won. On
the bus ride home, I was scared that I
was going to get yelled at, but my
parents were nice about it and my dad
explained that I could never walk in a
race again. I haven’t since that
day.
Junior high was a good start for me.
Coach Ratliff would challenge me during
practice and races. I won almost every
race I entered in junior high, except for
the times he would throw me into a 200 to
get extra points or to challenge me more.
I remember one meet over at Clarinda when
Coach Ratliff wanted to see what I could
do. So he made up the slowest 4 x 800
team with me as the anchor. I ended up
getting the baton in last place, about
200 meters behind the leader. I remember
being mad that he did this to me and
telling myself to do whatever it takes to
catch the leader and win the race. I
ended up catching them with about 250 to
go and won the race. After I told Coach
not to pull that again, he laughed and
said that he was only giving me a
challenge, to see how far I would push
myself.
In eighth grade I decided not to play
volleyball and I practiced with the high
school cross-country team. They only had
two cross country meets for junior high
kids around the area, but I just loved
practicing with the team and running. I
remember being right up with the top pack
and always talking about next year when I
would compete with them. Practicing in
the fall with the cross-country girls
made me a much stronger runner that
spring in track. I ended up beating all
of my sister’s junior high records
and running times in eighth grade that
would have qualified me for the state
meet for high school.
High School
High school was a roller-coaster ride for
me. I had my ups and way-downs throughout
my high school career. I went from being
on top of the world by winning state
cross-country my sophomore year to
wanting to crawl in a hole and die after
only beating like 10 girls, but I would
never trade the trials I went through
during high school because the trials are
what have made me a stronger and more
dedicated runner today.
The summer before my freshman year of
cross-country I would run four to six
miles a day, six days a week. I loved
running, having the pavement under my
feet and the wind in my hair, with just
the wide-open road ahead of me. All
summer long I trained and daydreamed
about racing cross-country that season.
Finally practice began. It was two weeks
before school would start and both the
men’s and women’s cross-country
teams were starting two-a-days. We had to
report to the high school at six in the
morning on August 16th,
1997. The sun had not yet
risen and the morning air was chilly, but
we were all excited and ready to go.
Coach talked to us for a little bit while
we were off and then it was out for a
four-mile run. We established groups
right away and I was with the front pack.
There was me with two other girls, Jenni
and Kristi, who would soon become my
training partners for the year. Our
morning practices would consist of
running a longer run of four to six miles
and then the afternoon runs would either
be a hill workout, interval, or a game
that Coach Moores would make up. Once
school started, practice was always after
school at 4:00 p.m.
I loved Coach Moores as a coach. He
always made practice fun, but at the same
time would help us in any way to get
prepared for our meets. He would sit
after every practice before a meet and
talk with me about who would be my
competition for that race. Like my first
junior high track race, my first
cross-country race is one I will never
forget. We toed the line, ready to go,
the gun went off, and I sprinted to the
front and took off. I was leading the
race by a ways and there was no lead
cart. I got to a point in the race where
I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to
turn there or go down a little farther
and no one but one man was standing
there, so I yelled and asked him. He
shrugged his shoulder as if he
didn’t know. So I turned and
finished the race, winning by about
thirty seconds. My teammate Jenni
finished right behind me, claiming
second. After we had been finished for a
while, Jenni came up to me and told me
that I had taken the wrong turn and had
cut half a mile off the course. Luckily,
all the girls had followed, so I
wasn’t disqualified and still
claimed the win.
My first cross-country season was a
success. I had broken my sister’s
course records at most meets and only
lost three meets that season. I was the
only person on our team to qualify for
state and ended up getting all-state by
placing eighth.
I would not know until later that I would
find my favorite coach and best friend in
track: Coach Jorgensen. By my senior
year, he knew me better than anyone and
knew how to get me to race my best. My
freshman year of track was awesome. I
became stronger and more confident
throughout the season. Coach Jorgensen
would have me play catch-up with the
other girls, as I had become stronger and
no one was able to train with me. He
would start the other girls anywhere from
five to ten seconds ahead of me and then
let me go and I would have to try to
catch them before the end of the
repeat. I won almost every
race I was in and broke my sister’s
records in the 1500, 3000, and the
distance medley.
I had qualified for state in the 800,
1500, and 3000. Coach and I decided that
I would try for all three. My favorite
memory from freshman year was the week
before state. I was the only
distance girl who had qualified, so I was
the only one still running. Coach
Jorgensen took me out to a gravel road
where we were going to do 800-meter
repeats. He made a mark where I would
start and then he would take off and I
had to wait until he got to a certain
spot before I could go and then I would
have to chase him down and catch him
before the interval was done. Coach had
me do four of them and then he had me run
beside his car for a couple miles before
he picked me up and took me back to the
school. State was awesome and I loved the
atmosphere there. It was held in Drake
Stadium on the big blue track! I tripled
in the 800, 1500, and 3000. The 3000 was
held on Friday and the 800 and 1500 on
Saturday. I ended up with second-place
finishes in the 1500 and 3000 and a
sixth-place finish in the
800.
The summer before my sophomore year I was
fired up and ready to go. I had trained
more that summer than before and I had my
sights set on winning a state title. I
would soon find out that Coach Moores
would be leaving, as his wife had gotten
a job in Illinois. I was heartbroken, as
I had talked to him that summer, telling
him how I was going to be a state
champion and no one was going to beat me.
He and I had made plans about how to get
me stronger and how I would be able to
have my best race at state. He promised
that he would still be there for me,
cheering me on.
Mrs. Skillren: I would learn to hate that
name. She knew nothing about
cross-country and how to train us girls.
I was soon going to the guys’ coach
and asking for help. He would give me
workouts to do on my own before or after
practice. I would wake up and do workouts
in the morning, just to make sure she
would not screw my chances at a state
title. I was unbeatable that year and won
every race. No one was near me the whole
year long.
State was amazing! Our team had
qualified, which was fun because my best
friend was there with me. I
remember dreaming about me finishing in
first place. I kept visualizing it over
and over. It was installed into my head
by the time I had woken up the next
morning. It was cold, but not too bad,
probably in the low forties or high
thirties. Our team warmed up and got the
starting line. The starter gave us our
instructions and the starting commands.
The gun sounded and I was off. I sprinted
to the lead (which had become my
trademark in high school). I remember
girls were right with me for a while and
then all of a sudden there was no one
there. I began to wonder how far back and
if anyone was gaining, but I
couldn’t hear them. Then I
remembered what my parents would always
tell me: “out of sight, out of
mind,” which meant if you can’t
see them, then don’t worry about
them. Focus on what is in front of you. I
remember seeing the finish line and
taking off in a dead sprint. I had done
it. I had won state and reached my goal.
I finished with my arms raised and then
ran through the shoot and into my
mother’s embrace as tears flowed
down both our cheeks. I stood on the
podium with the biggest smile ever
because I had accomplished what I had set
out to do.
God is my biggest inspiration and the one
who keeps me going. I have always made
sure that I give the credit to him and
glorify his name through my running. But
after my state title, I lost focus of
that and forgot that my running was a
gift from God. I took control and was
overtraining. Towards the end of the
winter, about two weeks before track was
to start, my shin in my left leg started
to hurt, but I didn’t think much
about it because runners’ bodies go
through pain all the time; it’s part
of being a runner. I ignored it, not
mentioning it to anyone. It slowly kept
getting worse and worse. It was about
three weeks into practice when Coach
Jorgensen came up to me and asked if my
leg hurt. Of course I said, “No.
I’m fine.” He then told me to
go and try to sprint without limping this
time. I asked him what he was talking
about and told him that I wasn’t
limping and I was fine. We went back and
forth for a while until he told me to go
and sprint and he and the assistant
coaches would decide if I was limping or
not. So I took off and sprinted down the
straightaway. My leg was in so much pain
when I would land on it that I had
learned to spend as little time as
possible on it. Coach Jorgensen told me
to go see a doctor and I wasn’t
going to be allowed at practice until I
did.
It took three doctors before I figured
out that I had developed a stress
fracture. I was sitting in the
doctor’s office with tears running
down my face. My dad was
trying to calm me down as I fought with
him, telling him there was no way I was
going to take six to eight weeks off.
That would be my whole season! My dad
finally got me out of the office and
calmed down. My world had flipped upside
down. I had gone from winning state to
not even being able to run. My parents
talked with coach about it; I still
attended practice and would go for long
bike rides while everyone else ran. My
sophomore track season was spent
questioning God: Why had he let this
happen to me? Why was he against me? What
did I do to deserve this? I ended up
lying to my parents and coach and telling
them it was better just so I could
compete. I remember hiding after
practice, icing my leg and crying because
of the pain. I ended up qualifying for
state while developing another stress
fracture in my right shin. I was running
in dire pain with every step I took. I
could not even walk at this point without
shooting pain through both legs. The only
good thing that came out of state was
that our 4x800 got third; the rest was a
disaster.
My whole junior year is a blur. I think
it is because I don’t really want to
remember it. I still had my stress
fracture, because I tried to come back
too fast after a break in the summer. At
state cross-country I ended up getting
forty-fourth place and getting beat by a
girl on our team who had never beat me
before. I was upset and still questioning
God. I had not figured out that I needed
to quit putting my running before God and
remember that it was a gift for me to use
for his glory. My junior year of track I
had finally got my stress fractures
healed, but I had gained some weight, so
I started taking diet pills and laxatives
to lose the weight. I started only eating
breakfast and I would sneak the rest of
my food to my dog or throw it out the
window when my parents weren’t
looking. I ended up losing quite a bit of
weight, but I was running better so I
thought nothing of it. I still
wasn’t back to where I had been, but
was running better than my sophomore year
and that year of cross-country. I ended
up placing at state in both the 4x800 and
open 800, but my eating continued to get
worse.
That whole summer before my senior year I
started to run like crazy. I ran anywhere
from eight to ten miles a day. This was
good, but I was not eating enough, so I
was always tired and worn out. I worked
eight to ten hours a day as a lifeguard,
so it was easy for me not to eat. I would
only eat when I had to at night with my
parents there. Cross-country started and
I was smaller than ever. I was very
inconsistent throughout the whole season.
I would have some awesome races and some
horrible races and it all depended on if
I would allow myself to eat much that day
or not. During cross-country that year I
got to the point where I was only eating
two pieces of toast a day and that was
about it. District and state came that
year and I was too skinny. At district, I
was running at the front when I started
to black out. I stopped for a few seconds
and then started to run again. I had to
do this about three to four more times. I
ended up getting sixty-fourth and was
very depressed. I couldn’t
understand why God was doing all of this
to me and was blaming him for everything.
State came and the same thing happened. I
went out with the leaders and then had to
stop three to four more times because I
kept blacking out. I ended up getting
124th place and went into major
depression. I remember sitting in the
back, not saying a word to anyone the
whole way home, and then barely leaving
the house for the next two weeks. I spent
the winter trying to figure out how my
life had gotten so messed up.
In January 2001, I went to a youth
conference with our youth group. It had
touched me in so many ways and made me
realize that I had pushed God out of my
life. I remember praying to God that he
would come back into my life and help to
keep my focus on him. After the
conference I started to make myself eat
better and I quit taking laxatives and
diet pills. I started to feel a lot
stronger and began to feel the love and
joy of running again. I decided to
dedicate my running to God and to give up
every race to him. My senior track season
was my best high school season by far. I
was unstoppable and ended up winning
state in the 1500 and 800 and placed
third in our 4x800. I ran a personal best
in every event and loved competing again.
I was finally back to myself and was
stronger because I had God at my side.
College
I had put off deciding on a college until
after the track season because I was
having an awesome season and wanted to
see what offers I could get. I had offers
from Iowa State, Arkansas, the University
of Florida, Southern Florida University,
and many smaller colleges. I decided that
I needed to go a smaller school for a few
years to build up my confidence more and
become stronger. I thought I
would transfer to a university after two
years, but that didn’t happen.
I chose Wartburg because I loved how
Coach Johnson and Newsom were very strong
in their faith and knew that they would
keep my focus on God, which they have. I
was also impressed with how much their
runners had improved in their times from
high school to college. My first year at
Wartburg turned out good. I improved my
times by ten or more seconds in each
event. I received All-American Honors in
cross-country and received my first
National Champion titles in the 1500 in
indoor and outdoor track. Our distance
medley received All-American honors along
with me getting an All-American Honor in
the 800 meters in outdoor. After my first
season, I was fired up and ready to go. I
wanted to become the top runner in
Division III and wanted to make a
statement to the Division I athletes.
The summer before my sophomore year, I
ran sixty to sixty-five miles a week,
plus weight-lifting and abs. I came into
the season stronger than ever. The first
meet that season was at Woody Greeno, in
Lincoln, Nebraska. I was fit and ready to
roll. Coach J wanted me to sit until
after the first mile or so and then see
how I felt. I stayed with the pack until
the mile and a half mark and then took
off and never looked back. I ended up
winning the race by thirty seconds. That
season, I went undefeated and was not
touched. I won the closest race I had by
30 seconds.
I remember going into nationals telling
myself that no one could touch me. I had
to keep telling myself that so that I
would keep my confidence up and believe
in myself, because the nerves were
starting to get to me. It was time for
the race to start. We were sitting in our
box having our numbers checked and
getting the starting
commands. Then we went out,
did our stride, and our team got together
to have a team prayer and cheer. Then it
was back to the line for the starting
commands. Coach and I had planned to stay
with the lead until the first mile again
and then go if I felt good. I waited and
felt great. I broke away from the pack at
the mile marker and took off. I remember
after about three minutes or so not being
able to hear anyone behind me. I then
heard my dad yelling that I had dropped
everyone and now to push myself and see
what I could do. I then took off and kept
pressing, then the finish line came and I
knew I had won! I raised my hands to
celebrate while crossing the line. After
I had crossed, my best friend Jeff Davis,
who also came to Wartburg to run,
embraced me. I then found my coach and my
family with their faces painted. There
were two big surprises of the meet that I
will never forget. The first was that
Coach Jorgensen came to support me and
cheer me on and the second was that our
team ended up third, to receive a trophy.
Three weeks later Coach J and I flew out
to California to race in my first
professional cross-country race, where I
placed third.
My sophomore year of track was the same.
I dominated at the Division III level and
Coach was starting to place me in bigger
meets with the Division I girls. We won
the distance medley in indoor and I won
the 1500, re-breaking the school records
and setting Division III national
records. Once outdoor track came, I was
stronger than ever, and I was competing
in some major races. My breakthrough race
of the year was at the Mt. Sac relays in
California. I was in the 5000 meters with
a great field. The gun sounded and we
were off. I jumped right into the front
pack and stuck there with them. There was
a group of about five to six of us that
pulled away. I was in the race and felt
great. With one mile left, they took
off. I was able to hang on for
another lap and a half and then they
dropped me, but I only dropped back by a
couple seconds. I ended up sixth but ran
a personal best by over a minute. I ran
15:37 and qualified for the USA Track and
Field Championships that summer. That was
the time and race that qualified me for
the Olympic Trials this summer.
The rest of the season went awesome. I
won nationals and the 1500 and 5000
meters and set Division III national meet
records. I continued to train through the
summer for the USA Championships. I
competed in a meet in Minnesota in the
1500 and then it was back to California
for the USA
Championships. Coaches J and
Newsom had talked to me about not eyeing
the professionals like Marla Runyan and
Michael Johnson. It was a great
experience and I had fun seeing all the
runners that I had watched growing up
there competing. I didn’t have my
greatest race but I finished ninth and
had put it out there. But now it was time
to focus on qualifying for the Olympics.
The summer before my junior year I went
to the Olympic Training Center in
Colorado Springs. I trained with a
strength coach and worked with a
nutritionist. With their help, I became
better, faster, and stronger than before.
My cross-country season went great; I was
running anywhere from thirty seconds to a
minute faster that year. The only race I
got beat in was a Division I race in
Minnesota against a girl who would end up
making the Olympic team for New Zealand,
her original country. I won nationals
again by a large margin and competed at
the Club Nationals again in North
Carolina this year. I ended up winning
the race, making it my first win in a
race against professionals. By the end of
my cross-country season I had run the
fastest six kilometer time out of the
whole United States and was full of
confidence with my eyes on the Olympics.
Once track came, I made everything geared
toward that Olympics and how I could
qualify. I had upped my mileage to the
seventies and eighties a week, plus was
lifting, doing abs, and running speed
drills. In February I qualified for the
World XC team and would compete in March
in Brussels, Belgium, representing the
United States. Things were going great,
but sometimes God throws in obstacles to
see how strong we are and to try to make
us stronger by placing more faith in him.
That’s just what happened. I ended
up getting IT band fraction syndrome in
my left knee three weeks after qualifying
for the world team. It took me out of
running for a couple of weeks and out of
the indoor nationals, and I questioned if
I would be able to run at the worlds. I
luckily healed enough to compete at the
World Championships, which was the
greatest experience ever, but I ran a
poor race and my knee flared back up.
I kept running, though, and refused to
stop. All that I could think about was
the training time that I had missed for
the trials. I kept pushing my knee and
myself. Finally, it got to the point
where I was not able to walk on it after
practice, so I backed off some to let it
heal and then got back after it. The rest
of the track season was a struggle to
regain what I had lost in training and
trying to get my confidence in myself
back. By the time nationals came, I was
back to running my intervals as fast or
faster than I had before I got hurt. My
confidence was slowly coming back with
it. I ended up getting beat at nationals
by an archrival in the 1500, but came
back strong in the 5000 to win.
Now the college season was over and it
was time to place all my focus on how to
qualify for the Olympic team. Practices
were going great and I was getting
stronger each day. Then it hit and it hit
hard. I remember waking up one morning
not being able to breathe. I went into
Coach’s office and he told me to get
to a doctor. The doctor told me that I
had a severe case of bronchitis. I ended
up having to go to the doctor’s
office three times that week just for
them to find some type of medicine that I
could take with all the drug testing. I
ended up having bronchitis for a month
straight, which hindered my training as I
couldn’t breathe properly and was
lacking in energy. Coach and I worked at
it and we did what we could. At the end
of my bronchitis I competed in a 5K in
California. I ran so poorly that I told
Coach Newsom that I was not competing in
the Olympic Trials and humiliating
myself. He and I sat and talked the night
after that and he helped me to realize
what God has blessed me with and that I
needed to put my focus on him again and
he would give me the strength. He made me
realize that I need to have fun with it
again and quit putting so much pressure
on myself. After that talk with Coach
Newsom and a similar one with my parents,
I got refocused and ready to get after it
again. I was finally healthy and had
three weeks until I competed. My
practices started to get back to normal
and I could tell a huge difference in my
breathing, as could Coach J, as he told
me: “You don’t sound like you
are going to die
anymore.”
The Olympic Trials
The preliminaries of my 5K were Friday,
July 9th, so we left the Tuesday before
so that I was able to get out there and
relax and have some time to get
accustomed to the time
change. Friday came quick,
though, and before I knew it I was in the
warm-up area for the athletes, waiting
for my time to run. Dia (our javelin
thrower from Wartburg) and I were sitting
there talking and focusing on our events.
We made jokes about getting Marion
Jones’s autograph and about how we
would someday have bodyguards like her.
Then it was time to start warming up. I
went for my twenty-minute jog to get the
blood in my legs flowing and to warm up
my muscles. Then I stretched, did my
ploys, and heard the announcer call us
over to the holding gate. I grabbed my
spikes and left. The official went
through and checked our spike, hip, and
chest numbers and then told us to wait.
About twenty minutes later, an official
came and led us onto the track where we
did a few striders and then lined up. The
gun sounded and we were off. Through the
whole race I was calm, patient, loose,
and felt awesome. I ended up in fourth
place, qualifying for finals the
following Monday night.
The two days in between flew by and
before I knew it I was back at the
warm-up area again. This time the nerves
were getting to me and all that I thought
about was how if I didn’t qualify I
would have to wait another four years.
Coach Newsom came to give me a pump-up
speech like he always does. Before I knew
it, I had tears welling up in my eyes.
Coach Newsom saw that I was about ready
to burst into tears and knew that it
would be best to leave me alone, so he
jumped up, said good luck and to remember
that God was with me, and left. As he
walked away, the tears poured out of my
eyes. I finally got control of my
emotions, but still had my stomach in a
knot.
During my twenty-minute warm-up run I
tried to get myself to relax, but for
some reason I couldn’t. I went
through my pre-race warm-ups and
stretches until the announcer called us
over to the holding tent again. We had to
go through the whole spikes and number
check again and then waited. Twenty
minutes later we were led out onto the
track to do our strides again. I took off
and sprinted down the track. I prayed for
God to give me the strength to run that
race and to give him the glory, no matter
what happened. I looked into the crowd to
find my family all lined up in their
“Missy’s Fan Club” shirts,
yelling my name and cheering me on.
The starter called us to the line and
then shot the gun. We were
off. At first no one wanted to lead, so
Shaylane Flanagan from Nike took it. We
were all lined up in a straight line
right behind each other, not wanting too
push it too early. I was at the back of
the top pack. I kept telling myself to
relax because I could feel how tense I
was. With about five laps to go, I ended
up tightening up and dropping off the
back of the pack. Molly Huddle of Notre
Dame came and challenged me with two laps
to go. I went with her for a while but
was unable to relax. She ended up beating
me at the end and I finished in eighth
place. I was very disappointed and had
known that I let my nerves get the best
of me. I walked off the track with tears
filling my eyes. I found my parents, who
just hugged me and said nothing. They
just let me cry. Coach Johnson and Newsom
came up and told me that they were proud
of me and all that I had overcome that
year to get to where I was at.
That night and the rest of the week were
hard. I remember standing in front of the
hotel by my parents’ van talking to
them before they took off for the long
trip home. I looked up to see that my mom
and dad were crying. I asked why they
were crying and they said that it was
hard for them to see me so upset and that
they knew how much making it to the
Olympics meant to me. It was
hard for them to watch me not reach my
goal, but then they told me how much they
loved me and how proud they were of me. I
hugged both of them and watched in tears
as they drove away.
It was hard not making it to the
Olympics, but God taught me a lot through
my experience. He showed me how blessed I
was to have a family and coaches who care
about me. They taught me that it
doesn’t matter if you win or lose as
long as you have given the best that you
could that day. He has made me a strong
person through all my obstacles. I will
never forget what a friend told me after
the trials. He looked at me and said,
“Missy, just because you had planned
for you to go to the Olympics this year
doesn’t mean that God had planned
that for you. You have to remember that
we aren’t always on the same
schedule that God is, but that he knows
exactly what you need and has it planned
out for you. Missy, you will be at the
Olympics someday, but it will be when God
plans for you to be there.” The
Olympic Trials have given me more desire
and love for the sport than ever before.
And in 2008 you can plan on seeing me in
Beijing, China, competing in the Olympic
Games with God at my
side.
Missy Buttry '05 is a
social work major at Wartburg College.
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