Kadence Kuhnert went into the state cross country meet thinking she'd probably finish fourth.

"It was just supposed to be my year to have fun," she says. "I can always win next year."

She won it this year.

In a field of nearly 200 runners, on a course at the Du Quoin State Fairgrounds, the seventh grader crossed the finish line first — ISJL state champion. She had decided not to put pressure on herself. Then she just ran, and the rest followed.

It wasn't even the first time that season something like that happened. At regionals, Kadence broke the course record at Murphysboro — in spikes, for the first time ever in competition, running a 5:25-per-mile pace she hadn't planned on sustaining.

"I did not know I was going to keep that pace," she says. "I didn't even mean to go out that fast. But I did."

At a meet in Frankfort, she targeted a specific goal — to get under 12 minutes for two miles. She ran an 11:58.

Sophie Kellerman was the only other Du Quoin runner to make state that season. Kadence was already juggling cross country with basketball practices, going straight from one to the other. Four sports total — cross country, basketball, volleyball, track — spread across a school year that barely leaves room to breathe.

"It's a struggle," she says, and laughs.

But she's high honor roll every quarter. She borrows pencils from her younger sister Kaitlyn — a fifth-grader who shares the middle school hallways with her and is, as Kadence puts it, considerably more organized. "She's really prepared. I'm the opposite."

The running started with her mom.

Kadence grew up watching her run. Her mom competed in the River to River race and finished second. As a little girl, Kadence would watch from her yard and wait. When her mom came down the road, she'd sprint out to run a few steps alongside her — "sprint a little bit, then run back into my yard." Not training. Just wanting to be part of it.

Her mom is now an assistant track coach. She doesn't get paid for it. She built the workouts that developed Kadence's leg strength. She still runs with her.

"My mom's like the most important person to me in my life," Kadence says. "She's the one who's trained me."

Between sports, Kadence thinks about what comes after — and she already has a direction. She wants to be a physical therapist. Knee problems during cross country season sent her through a stretch of PT exercises that, she says, actually worked. She took note of that.

"I think I just want to help people like that."

Indiana University is already in her mind as a possible destination. Her mom went there. Kadence has driven past the campus — she thought it was beautiful.

Du Quoin is home, and she'll tell you so. She moved here from Pinckneyville when she was young, but even before that, her life was defined by a farm outside of town, a road, and a small house across the way where her great-grandparents, Mervyn and Helen Smith, lived.

Every morning, after breakfast, she'd push her boots on and run across the road to find Mervyn. They'd work in the garden. They'd go inside and play. Then she'd wait by the window until she saw him come out again.

"When he passed," she says, "I just kind of waited there and he never came out."

She carries that with her. The warmth of it, and the weight.

This year, she went to Moab, Utah, on vacation and stayed longer than planned because no one wanted to leave — Jeep rides, a UTV through the red rock, a resort with a pool. She swims when she can. She runs when she can. She keeps moving, keeps competing, keeps discovering what she's capable of.

She's a seventh grader.

She's already a state champion.

And somewhere in those quiet morning runs with her mom, the cadence — her name, as it turns out — is still building.