Just got back from a LONG run (half marathon training – UGH!), so plenty of time for thinking.
At one point on the run I was reflecting on my experience on the seventh grade track team. I was thinking I may be a better runner now if I had participated more enthusiastically at that time.
As I have mentioned before, I was a thicker girl than most, not fat, just bigger, thicker. Instead of running much, as I was not naturally gifted, I was designated a high jumper for the team. After a few weeks of practice, I hurt my back and was unable to continue. I found out many years later that I have some weird vertebrae thing that probably caused it.
Anyway, rather than bore myself by actually going to track practice most days after school, I spent my time hanging out/flirting with eighth grade boys in the old band room. Practice rooms, to be specific. (This is a theme for me, see Let’s Hear it for the Boy. Yep, same boy.) Yes, Mom, it is true.
I realize now that as a thirteen-year-old girl, I made some errors in judgment. It is either good because I had fun, or bad because I did not act as an upstanding member of the track team. Although if I had, I may have burned out on running long ago and would never be doing it now. Let’s go with that theory.