In September, I sat down with my mom to go over the schedule for the upcoming cross country season. It was littered with practices and meets on Saturdays and Jewish holidays. Three big races fell on Saturdays and one on the Jewish holiday of Rosh Hashanah. The state meet, if I got that far, also was on a Saturday.

As an orthodox Jew, that created a problem because from an hour before sundown every Friday to an hour after sundown every Saturday I observe the Jewish Sabbath. The Sabbath is known as a day of rest. Like many in my faith, I refrain during this time from activities like driving, using electricity and even exercise. The Sabbath commemorates God resting on the seventh day of creation.

The same restriction applies to most Jewish holidays. These holidays provide me time with my family, and opportunities to focus on traditions and spirituality. As one of two orthodox Jews at Grant, the other being my sister, I have not found it easy to be religious in a public school.

It wasn’t always this way. When I started high school, I wasn’t truly devoted to running or my religion. I went to meets to have fun rather than compete. As for Judaism, I wasn’t as strict. I didn’t have a full understanding of what it meant to be observant, so running on Saturdays and holidays was OK.

By the time I was a junior, things changed. I became more focused on running. I was the seventh man on varsity and worked hard to maintain my spot. I ran more and got faster. At the same time, my affinity for my religion changed and I started observing guidelines for keeping the Sabbath and holidays. I put more personal emphasis on my faith.

I was comfortable with my newfound appreciation for running and religion. But others weren’t as comfortable. I felt like some of the coaches and certain teammates didn’t respect my newfound position on how I maintained my faith. One senior repeatedly said: “If you want to be captain, you have to run on Saturdays.” I felt rejected.

Even the head coach had trouble accepting my position. It was like he expected me to put all my energy into cross country, to dedicate myself to running and nothing else. That wasn’t something I was prepared to do.

At the team’s awards banquet that year, I was singled out by the coach for missing several meets and practices. He said that he hoped that I would make running more of a priority for my senior year. That lack of acceptance, simply because I had other passions, turned me off from embracing cross country, and at one point, running altogether.

The summer before my senior year, I went to Israel for an inspiring and spiritually uplifting six-week trip. Being in this holy land and away from home helped me understand my connection to Israel. I felt like I had a new home and I wasn’t looking forward to the cross country season.

When I returned, Doug Winn, the new head coach, told me I was going to be a captain. I was shocked. Even though I would miss meets and practices on the Sabbath, Coach Winn wanted me to be a leader on the team. He didn’t judge me or want me to be someone I wasn’t. I was more than motivated to prove that I was dedicated. I felt accepted by my teammates and the coaches this year in a way that I never had before.

Even though our team had a good chance in going to state, I told the varsity guys and the coaches that I wouldn’t run if we got there. The Sabbath, after all, was my first priority. The team – instead of distancing itself from me or rejecting me – respected my decision. They acknowledged the important role that religion plays in my life and they didn’t want me to compromise that for any race.

Now my Grant cross country career is over. But I couldn’t have had a better season. I was given the opportunity to show leadership, emphasize teamwork and support my fellow teammates. They did the same for me, and I developed a sincere connection and dedication to them.

The awards banquet at the end of season was the last time the whole team was together and I was in for another big surprise. When Coach Winn called my name for the team captain award, I was deeply moved. Despite my previous struggles, I was able to maintain a connection to my faith and heritage while being on a sports team. If this whole experience was a big race, it’s one I’d run over again. ♦