Photo by Bill Ponder
New Year's Resolutions for the Runner
May the summer runs not be so hot, and the cold baths not so cold.
May I be the first in line at the porta-johns, because there's not much worse than a later morning trip during a 30-team meet.
May I be allowed to run in a track meet with my sweats on, because there's nothing worse than having to strip down on a 30-degree day with 25 mile per hour winds.
May Mother Nature make up her mind. Seventy degrees one day and 30 the next makes me a sick boy.
May my mom quit taking pictures of me when I'm running. Seriously, have you ever seen a good-looking picture of someone who's in a race?
May our coaches go easy on us when we get lost on a long run. Please make them understand that sometimes we just want to explore, and we lose track of time.
May the early morning bus never leave without me. Somehow, parents don't seem to understand this when you have to wake them at 6 on a Saturday morning looking for a ride.
May all the timers round down instead of up.
May that bib number quit falling off my left shoulder.
And please let that hurdle give easily when my foot doesn't quite clear it.
If not, may the trainer not roll me off the track into a field of army ants. Trust me, the cement felt better.
May my landings in the pole vault pit be happy ones, because I've never smiled once when they weren't.
May the pole continue to hang in the long jump event, whether my body hits it or not.
May the bus never leave me when the meet ends, as parents don't understand coming to pick me up either.
May my coach never enter me in the steeplechase in February. It's cold enough on dry land; I'll pass on jumping into the water.
May I never scratch.
May that sacred baton never leave my hand until it's supposed to, because there's nothing worse than letting down three teammates when it does.
May all track meets go down to the 4 X 400 relay, because that's the way God intended it.
Speaking of, when I'm passed out from doing my earlier events, please don't pry me from my tent nap and make me go run a leg. It will be time consuming, and not pretty to boot.
Please don't make me count laps on the 3,200 - I don't want to mess up my own event and somebody else's too.
And deliver me unto track officials that love to keep the gun firing and keep the results wiring.
Now... come get me mother, I'm through...
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