Faster Than A Speeding Bullet

The Teenager had his first track meet this week. It was cold, it was kind of long, and it definitely left me hungry. At ground level, it was a nice breeze. Sitting up in the shaded bleachers, it was a very cold and blustery wind. A 3:30 pm start time apparently just means that 3:30 pm is the time the announcer turns on the microphone. And I began to really worry when the concession stand worker informed me that because it was a short meet, there would be no hot food served. The meet was scheduled to end around 8:00pm; five and a half hours is a SHORT meet?

I've been a football mom for what often feels like decades. I've been a baseball mom for many, many years. But I've never been a track mom. I had no idea what to expect. No one forewarned me. No one prepared me. No one told me to bring a sandwhich and a jacket.

No one told me that frozen fingertips, never ending goosebumps, and a stomach that was talking to everyone within three rows of bleachers would totally be worth it to witness what winning his first two individual races would mean to a kid who's never run track a day in his life. And winning them as a member of the Varsity team, no less. He's always had a level of self-confidence. But after this meet?

He believes in himself.

And that is totally worth being hungry and cold. But I will definitely be bringing a cooler of food and drinks and a jacket to the next meet. And maybe a sleeping bag, since it's supposed to be a longer one.




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