So I came to my blog to look up a recipe, and, as I tend to do when I visit my blog, I looked back at some of the most recent posts. First of all, I believed, with all of my brain, and down to my toes, that I had posted (at least) once in 2024. Nope. I did not.
And second, I noticed an asterisk in one of the posts. It looked like this:
...track and field is a strange sport*
And the asterisk said:
* More on this in a future blog post
And I was appalled, because I did not, in fact, write more about this in a future blog post. Well. This is me, keeping my word.
Track and field is a strange sport. There are so many different events, right? There's running short distances. There's running long distances. There's running medium distances. There's running short or medium distances while jumping over things that have been placed in your way. There's running various distances in teams carrying a metal tube. There's running and jumping long and running and jumping high. There's running and jumping three times in a row. There's spinning in circles and throwing things. There's running with a pole, planting the pole, and using the pole to carry yourself over a bar, where you then crash down on a padded mat. Hopefully. And that's not all. That's just what happens at a high school track & field meet in my state.
I love this about track & field. There's literally something for everyone. Don't like to run? Well, my friend, you can throw things instead. Don't like to jump three times? Why not jump just once? Have a death wish crave adrenaline? Try pole vault or hurdles.
So there's a lot going on, right? And a lot of it is happening at once. And if you're a parent, your kid is participating in, at most, 4 events. And those events might include both the first and the last events of the day. And so you stay, for hours. Like 4, 5, maybe even 6 hours if the meet is not efficiently run, and you spend just a few minutes* watching your kid actually compete#, and the rest of the time you cheer for the kiddos running by, or read a book, or watch the pole vaulters hurl themselves into the air on the end of a stick and marvel at their bravery, or sit miserably doing none of these things because it's raining so hard you can't see.
But wait, there's more. This might be specific to our team, because it's kind of a big team: you don't know if your kiddo will actually be going to and competing in any given track meet until a few days ahead of time. If you're on the football team, you know that there's a game every Friday, and you're going to that game unless you're injured or sick**. You may or may not play, but you know that you're obliged to be there. Track? Nope. The coach will let you know on Sunday if you're going to the meet on Tuesday. Bubby's first season, I dutifully wrote all of the track meets on my calendar at the beginning of the season. I don't do that anymore. I hold my after school schedule lightly, and wait for that Sunday evening email.
And more. Track meets attract teams from schools you've never heard of before. They're not in your conference. They're not in your division. Sometimes, they're not even from your state. But here they are, at the same meet as you. And the meets don't matter. It doesn't matter one bit how your team does at any of the meets during the season. The conference champ is not the team that scored the most points at their meets that season. The conference champ is the team that scores the most points at the conference meet, where finally, finally, all of the teams are from your conference.
And then do you know what happens? It starts over! You go to the regional meet, and if you do well there, you'll qualify for the sectional meet, and if you do well there, you'll qualify for the state meet. So nothing matters except those last four meets of the season. And even then, while winning your conference is cool and all, it doesn't matter to move on. Clean slate for regionals. You can win your event every single time during the season, but if you have a bad day at regionals, your season is over.
Track and field is a strange collection of sporting events all rolled in to one, but I love it. You know why? Because anyone is welcome regardless of talent. Every team member is given the opportunity to compete, and every team member is celebrated for their accomplishments. There's a girl that I've been watching for three years. She runs distance events. And she comes in last almost every time***. But there she is, at the next meet, running again. I love her. I love that. It's not about winning for her. It's about showing up and doing her best for herself.
So there you go. Track & field is weird and wonderful and inspiring and oh-so-tedious, and I am so glad to be a part of it.
* * * * *
* In my case, it is less than a minute of watching my kid compete because he sprints and jumps, and those are fast events.
# One time my kiddo went to a meet as an alternate for a relay, and no other events, so I went to the meet, sat there for hours, and watched him hold the blocks for the boy who was running the first leg of the relay, because he wasn't needed. Then we left.
** And sometimes even if you're injured you go to the game.
*** One time, and only one time, I've seen her be not-last.