Run On

I was in the 7th or 8th grade. It was a scorcher at the track meet being run at our rival's school (rivals in our heads at least, this town always kicked our bootie in athletic events). The starting gun went off, and I ran my heart out in the 800 meter race (I think that was the length of the race). The finish line was in reach, and the crowd was cheering for me, for ME. "You can do it! Don't give up! Don't quit!" If only the story could end there. You see, they weren't cheering for me because I was in the lead. They were cheering for me because I was so very far behind. Everyone else had already finished the race. That is how fast I am! Have I ever mentioned how fiercely competitive I am? Don't let my quiet exterior fool you, I want to win and be the best at everything that I do. Play Word with Friends with me and you will discover my true competitive self. I do not like to lose/fail/not be the best. I fail miserably at track. I am the slowest of the slow. Why oh why would I participate in track when I was such a failure at it? I went to a microscopic school with mandatory track participation. For some unknown reason, my coach did not make me participate in track in high school. I cannot imagine why. Why am I revealing this and opening myself up to further public humiliation? I tell you this to help you understand that running and I are not friends. We just don't get along. Running has always shown me my weaknesses. So, can anyone explain to me my urge to start running? Is it because I am tired of being in miserable shape? Is it because I enjoy torturing myself? Maybe I have developed athletic abilitly? I don't have the answer, but I have started a running program and am determined to stick to it. My first run was PAINFUL. Can't-breathe-and-fat-particles-in-my-legs-banging-against-each-other-and-screaming-at-me-in-protest kind of painful. My second run was not so bad. Maybe running and I can become frenemies. Stay tuned.

Bonus embarrassing story: Another one of my all-time-crawl-in-a-hole-to-curl-up-and-die moments happened at this same track meet. There was this cute boy I liked. He happened to be in line ahead of me at the concession stand. A friend of mine was giving me a hard time about my pasty whiteness (don't you wish you could have known me in junior high?). He wanted to know why I was so white. My moment to impress the cute boy with a witty comment had arrived. I MEANT to say, "Because I am Caucasian", but for some reason, "Because I am a les*ian" came out of my mouth. My friends, there is no recovery for that blunder.