May 23, 2006


Tonight I went to see my old track coach. I graduated from high school ten years ago yesterday, so I wondered what it would be like to be hanging out with him at 28 instead of at 18. But he's still the same wonderful man I remember.

Actually, many at my high school would debate the "wonderful" part. He was rough, the Bobby Knight of high school girls track. He yelled, turned red, and kicked girls off the team. But he was fair too: if you gave track your all, he'd support you to the end. He ran our team a lot like the military, with a strict hierarchy, rigid uniform requirements, and a lot of yelling. That man put so much energy into track that he collapsed at last year's state meet. He's retired now and is just back helping for fun. He's a lot more relaxed now, but I wouldn't have traded what his previous intensity taught me. He taught me dedication and commitment to your team and to your goals. He taught me a lasting respect for my elders. And he taught me to push when I thought I didn't have anything left. And I love him for it.

While I was out on the field talking to my coach, my husband ran into my cousin; she had run track for another high school a few years behind me. She asked what on earth he was doing at a track meet, and he said that I was back visiting my old coach. My cousin was flabbergasted: "That man is a psycho!" Yes, he is, but he's my psycho.

Posted by: Sarah at 05:25 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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