The Dreaded Track Meet

I can’t remember very many fun or happy incidents while I was in grade school.  But, I do remember hating track metes.  First of all, I didn’t like many physical activities.  Running was at the top of that list.

I was in sixth grade and we were told we had to participate in the track meet.  This was required because it was done instead of gym class.  

I was in the 440-yard relay.  This consisted of having four people racing with another four people.  You only had to run for a short way, pass a baton to the next person, and so on until one of the teammates would pass the goal line.  I chose this activity because I hate to run, but being such a short distance, I felt would be the lesser of all evils.

Well, we lost and I was really upset.  To top that off I overheard a couple of teachers discussing who I was and that I had a little sister.  They mentioned that out of the two of us, she was the cuter one.  This made my day and explains a lot of my animosity towards that sister for years to come.

Well, about the track meet.  I left the track meet feeling quite low.  I wanted a ribbon in the worst way  When I got home I found my mom out in the garden.  I approached her and cried that I hadn’t done well at the track meet because she hadn’t prayed hard enough for me.

Boy, nothing like putting the blame on someone else.  Moms seem to take all the blame for their children’s inadequacies.

Sorry, Mom.

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