The Lazy Days

I was running in circles on hot red Astroturf until my feet felt like they were on fire. The stands were packed and I felt as though every pair of eyes was on me. I was inching ahead of the middle of the pack, but there was no joy for me in the race. Instead, a jolt of terror forced me to tighten my abdominal muscles as my breath quickened. Now terror isn’t usually a word you associate with a track athlete. Adrenaline, maybe excitement? Not terror. I am a different kind of track athlete. The kind that isn’t excited until after I cross the finish line and my nightmare is over. Which is the strange juxtaposition—when it comes to track, the running is the part I don’t like. I like being on the team, and track isn’t even a team sport.

I’m not sure I ever would have found out how much I liked being part of the track team if it weren’t for my best friend, who makes everything about track fun. He never judges me when I make a stupid comment or when I am my weird awkward self. He even cheers me on during my races. Unlike me, he is a superstar who ran a few varsity races freshman year but otherwise dominated the frosh-soph team. He is a big part of why I get up on race day and rush my parents to the car, because I know as soon as we arrive at the track, he’s there.

There’s also something about wearing the team uniform and being identified as an athlete that I love. The strange tan lines are just a perk. I love listening to speakers blasting Jason Mraz’s “I’m Yours” the entire meet and getting a chance to talk to people outside of my regular group of friends. People change at track meets, they are more approachable than they are in school. Even the shyest freshmen come out to talk to the upperclassmen of the team. We have developed a sort of family on the team.

Before I joined the team I didn’t know there was so much to do at track meets that doesn’t involve running. My friends and I have the time of our lives. We cheer on our tired teammates when they cross the finish line, eat wheat thins and listen to our iPods under the team tarp. Occasionally we walk past one of the coaches at the wrong time and are recruited to move hurdles in the hot sun. We’re all tired and take numerous naps before and after races, huddled together with friends. When the day winds down and the sun begins to set, I realize that the best day of my week is almost up. But instead of feeling sad, I get excited and anxious, already gearing up for the next track meet.

I will continue to run track and field, and I’ve noticed that each year is getting better than the last. I even started running in the 800 meter this year and I really like it. There’s nothing like being at a track meet with friends, where minutes seem like hours and the day is gone in a flash.

-Keana Cowden