Meredith Bauman '24 Recruiting Profile

My brother laughs at me when I explain my meticulously crafted pre-race routine. From how I pack my bag, to how I cut an orange, everything I do is done step by step to ensure (hopefully) my best result. 

When climbing, every route has been set by a setter to be done in a certain way. The setter at my local gym was quite tall and set routes accordingly. I used to complain to my coach that the routes weren’t made for people as short as me. Over the course of my time on the climbing team, I learned from watching others that height had nothing to do with how well you climb. If anything, it made me a more creative climber because I was forced to find new ways to scale the wall rather than simply reaching for the next hold. Every route has an established start and end, no exceptions, and the challenge is in the process. This is what I love about climbing. Focusing on every step until the end, knowing I’ve accomplished something concrete. 

Similarly in baking, there is a clean start and finish that is short term and tangible. The scary part is putting trust in an old hand written note, from a relative I’ve never met, to make a (hopefully) tasty treat. I simply follow the steps and, in theory, everything turns out okay. Trusting the process of baking was initially a challenge for me as I was used to being in control of the process, and I could trust myself. But when that is no longer true, and I must put trust into someone else, it gains a whole new meaning. 

Both climbing and baking involve short efforts for short term rewards, and this is what I’m used to: a quick turn around. But training for the cross country season is a long haul. From June to late August it always feels like I’ve made no progress. I’ve put in all the easy “base building miles”, but my speed still hasn’t improved. This is exactly how it should be, just not how I want it to be. Then, from August to November, as races begin and training ramps up, the results start to shine through and all the work slowly becomes worth it. Being committed to training when the satisfaction isn’t visible can be greuling, but it makes the reward that much sweeter. 

Even if I’m not as pleased with my time or placement, I can still be proud of the effort I’ve put in. The gain is in the process and establishing small rituals every day to help the results feel possible. That is what truly makes a difference for me. Routines keep my life in the lanes, without them everything would happen all at once, or not at all. They give me time to slow down the overwhelming rush. They give me a kickstart to my day when I’m not motivated to do anything. They give me balance. 

I know what I want the finish to look like; what’s unclear is how to get there. With small steps every day, I have learned how to build trust in a situation and establish routines to accomplish my goals.