Wednesday, April 27, 2011

Missing: Couch, Gloves, Rain

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Taken last Saturday, when I was finally able to make a game...

When I looked in the mirror yesterday night, I couldn't tell if I was sun-burned or wind-burned.

It was certainly one or the other.

The unmistakable outline of my sunglasses, used for both brightness and protection from quickly traveling sand and dirt, could be clearly traced on my face as if I'd been out sunbathing by the beach. Until sand pits used for long jump are accompanied by waves and ocean however, I don't think beach quite covers it.

Beaches call for leisurely reads, quiet bits of noise masked by waves, reclining with a cold drink and a sun hat. Instead, I was on my feet for a 13 hour day, feverishly reading off my heat sheets, yelling at students and listening to my radio as we searched for athletes that were missing from their events.

And they weren't the only thing missing.

Also missing? My gloves. I carry them religiously during track season and yesterday afternoon they were gone. I pulled out my handy-dandy "keep in the car for any cold situation" pair, but I am still quite curious on where they went.

Thankfully, the rain was missing. This morning I woke up to soaked pavement and a steady mist. Though the wind that slowed down every athlete on the homestretch appears to be a bit lighter this morning, I wouldn't trade it for rain. 400 teenagers + steady rain + over four hour track meet = bad news. I'll pass, thanks.

I was also missing my brothers soccer game, which was being played simultaneously. Last week's meet also coincided with a game, and my mom (still ever supportive of all of her children's athletic endeavors) showed up from one to the other, ready to help me run the second half of the meet while she warmed up from two hours on a chilly set of bleachers.

And last (but not least), I am now missing a beautiful red couch. Turns out my busy schedule, which prevented me from picking up a craigslist couch until today, also prevented me from getting said couch. I don't blame the guy for turning me down for a better offer, but if I'd only had a moment's free time to pick up the most recent object of furniture interest--it would have been mine.

Yes, we all make sacrifices for the activities we love. Perhaps it's important to have those conflicting emotions; after all, they cause me to constantly question where and how I spend my time. What is a season of track worth: a burned face? a pair of gloves? a red couch? my brother's soccer game?

Because I have to choose, I believe I am aware of everything that I have, even if I am also aware of what I am missing. And I know that missing it makes me appreciate it that much more.

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