Oliver Ferber stood still. In front of him, everyone was moving: His classmates, his running partners, his teammates -- they were all striding and sprinting and pushing themselves through the biggest race of the year on this Saturday morning in November 2021. On any other day, Oliver thought, I'd be among them -- maybe even in front of them. On this day, though, he only watched.

Oliver wasn't injured. He had chosen to stand on the sidelines of Maryland's cross country state championship meet. He had chosen to be wearing khakis and a green sweater instead of the track singlet. He had chosen to be on the outside peering in, staring as his team raced down the final stretch toward the finish line because it was, in his heart, what he thought he had to do.

He still felt the ache of being alone.

It wasn't about the running, really. It wasn't about sports at all. It was about faith and conviction and belief. It was about the weight that comes with confronting one of the hardest questions a person can face: What do you do when everyone you trust is telling you to do one thing, but you're pretty sure you're supposed to do the exact opposite?... Read More: ESPN