Thirty of us joined the track team and this was our first practice. I didn’t know everyone on the bus but could recognize the sports regulars.
How’s it going, some of them said to me.
Good, I replied, not having much more to say. Not particularly interested in track and field I joined to lose weight. I took a seat at the back of the bus and stared out the window as we headed toward the track.
Soon the bus pulled along side the curb and the coach announced we would have to run the two-mile circuit to the track and that he’d be giving us our times as we arrived. Sluggish and quickly out of breath after just four minutes or running I wondered if I had made the wrong choice by signing up but after another minute I fell into a rhythm and actually started to enjoy the run. This ought to be good for losing another pound, I figured.
As I approached the track I was surprised to see there was only one person ahead of me, Melissa, and that I was arriving last. The coach yelled out our arrival times as we passed him. Mine was 15 minutes. Hers was 14 minutes 45 seconds.
It feels good to stop, Melissa said to me, between breaths as she passed me for a cool down lap. Still out of breath, I didn’t answer her, but simply nodded my head. I stood hunched over with hands on hips, gulping air and staring at the gravel, angry at myself for having come in last. Calling loudly through his megaphone the coach said that we could take a short break and we’d start up again in 15 minutes.
The athletic clique grabbed snacks stood together on the track. I decided I hadn’t earned the right to eat and sat by myself under a tree. I set a punishment that I couldn’t eat until practice was over and silenced a hunger pang with some water which revived me.
Not hungry? I heard a girl’s voice. I peered from behind the tree and, guarding my eyes from the sun, I looked toward the voice. Melissa sat down on the grass and didn’t say anything else but finished her apple, the rhythmic crunches of which reminded me I was still hungry and made my mouth water. I’ll just skip this meal, I made a deal with myself. Challenges to myself to eat less began every meal and sometimes I wasn’t quite sure what indicated failure - deciding to eat or deciding not to. All I knew was that not eating felt somehow like winning.
I watched Melissa eat her apple. I had always assumed Melissa was a loner like me. She was never hanging out with anyone and she usually walked to classes alone. Before today I hadn’t known her to be involved in any sports and was surprised to see her boarding the track and field bus with the rest of us. We all said hi to her but that was all.
I don’t know what everyone else was thinking but all I could think of when I saw here was her glass eye. Couldn’t running make the eye fall out, I wondered, trying not to stare. When the coach told us we’d be running to the track I figured Melissa would be last, not me.
How’s it going, some of them said to me.
Good, I replied, not having much more to say. Not particularly interested in track and field I joined to lose weight. I took a seat at the back of the bus and stared out the window as we headed toward the track.
Soon the bus pulled along side the curb and the coach announced we would have to run the two-mile circuit to the track and that he’d be giving us our times as we arrived. Sluggish and quickly out of breath after just four minutes or running I wondered if I had made the wrong choice by signing up but after another minute I fell into a rhythm and actually started to enjoy the run. This ought to be good for losing another pound, I figured.
As I approached the track I was surprised to see there was only one person ahead of me, Melissa, and that I was arriving last. The coach yelled out our arrival times as we passed him. Mine was 15 minutes. Hers was 14 minutes 45 seconds.
It feels good to stop, Melissa said to me, between breaths as she passed me for a cool down lap. Still out of breath, I didn’t answer her, but simply nodded my head. I stood hunched over with hands on hips, gulping air and staring at the gravel, angry at myself for having come in last. Calling loudly through his megaphone the coach said that we could take a short break and we’d start up again in 15 minutes.
The athletic clique grabbed snacks stood together on the track. I decided I hadn’t earned the right to eat and sat by myself under a tree. I set a punishment that I couldn’t eat until practice was over and silenced a hunger pang with some water which revived me.
Not hungry? I heard a girl’s voice. I peered from behind the tree and, guarding my eyes from the sun, I looked toward the voice. Melissa sat down on the grass and didn’t say anything else but finished her apple, the rhythmic crunches of which reminded me I was still hungry and made my mouth water. I’ll just skip this meal, I made a deal with myself. Challenges to myself to eat less began every meal and sometimes I wasn’t quite sure what indicated failure - deciding to eat or deciding not to. All I knew was that not eating felt somehow like winning.
I watched Melissa eat her apple. I had always assumed Melissa was a loner like me. She was never hanging out with anyone and she usually walked to classes alone. Before today I hadn’t known her to be involved in any sports and was surprised to see her boarding the track and field bus with the rest of us. We all said hi to her but that was all.
I don’t know what everyone else was thinking but all I could think of when I saw here was her glass eye. Couldn’t running make the eye fall out, I wondered, trying not to stare. When the coach told us we’d be running to the track I figured Melissa would be last, not me.
posted by Pamela Hamilton at 1:09 PM
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