What I Would Do if I went to a Track Meet

Dispite my best efforts not to, today I found myself running track with hundreds of other kids.

My school has a track meet every year to determine who are the best athletes in the school. Those few students with the best times are allowed to go into a city-wide track competition full of sweaty athletic people and gasp for breath as they run around a track. Naturally, this didn't sound appealing to me, and so along with my friend at my school's mini track meet we decided to just have fun and not try too hard to make it to the finals.

We jogged the 1500. We made it anyway.

Fast forward to five days later, and it's the day of the finals. Today, in fact. Just a few short hours ago I competed in said finals, and now my body is aching because of it.

The day started badly and ended fairly badly. The first problem was that my aforementioned friend didn't show up, quite possibly to avoid the toil that I went through. That left me without any real friends going into the finals.

Still, I piled into a car with a bunch of other grade nines, and off to the races we went.

Upon arriving, we found ourselves at a nice track amidst hundreds of other junior high studants. As most of the people from my school started lining up for the 100 meter, I strolled over to the bleachers to wait three hours before my first event, the 1500 meter race, started.

The hours passed slowly, but soon enough it was my turn. I lined up on the starting block with maybe eight other guys. I marked, I setted, I go'ed. Five and a half minutes later, I came gasping over the finish line, a measly seventh place dispite running my best 1500 ever. Ouch.

Two hours later, I'm in the 800 meter race. This time, it's a similar story. The gun goes off, and we all take off. The only difference this time is that I manage to pull something in my thigh within twenty seconds of the gun, and I have to run with that the rest of the race. Then, I think I ended in seventh again, albeit there were a few more people in the 800 then the 1500.

And so, without a medal but with an injured leg and sunburn, I limped away from the track. That gave me a full two hours to eat, rest, and do four hours worth of homework before my soccer practice where I'd hurt my leg furthur. Of course I therefore failed to finish my homework, a task which would have been easier if I'd only remembered to bring home my textbook,

So that's where I'm at now. Tired, in pain, and stressed. Goodnight, people, and sorry for this shitty post.

-Mark

PS; no push-ups today. I'm just too tired, I'm afraid.