Friday, May 28, 2010

Track Meet

We are so not track stars in this family. 

Husband's claim to fame was running in the 4 by 100 meter relay in elementary school and crossing over to the wrong lane and getting his team disqualified. 

I never made a track team. I was friends with people on the track team. In junior high I won the illustrious DSSA. The Dirty Sweat Sock Award at grade 9 graduation. It's also known as the coveted "But-Mr-Gagnon-I'm-Going-As-Fast-As-I-Can" award.  I was hands down the slowest runner in the class. So I used to run, jog, pretend to jog and even convinced the second and third slowest runners to pretend to jog with me and then I would claim "but Mr. Gagnon, I'm going as fast as I can".

That was the penultimate moment of my athletic. Someday I'll blog about the crowning jewel, making the grade 9 volleyball team.

But I digress.

Jackson made the track team  showed up for practices a lot and was selected to be on the 4 by 200  meter relay team.  I was quite thrilled. Okay, inside I was weeping like a reality TV star.  Jackson seemed pleased and even had a bit of a swagger.

I was thrilled when I found out that his race was early in the day.  Which meant Husband could come to the race and, I thought, I'd bring Sydney too and drop her off late for school.

While we had a little luck in Jackson's event being early, the wheel of weather fortune came up snake eyes.  Cold. Rainy.Windy.  I packed 2 changes of clothes, a towel, 2 jackets, a barrell of snacks and his rubber boots and hoped he could make it through 7 hours of inclemate weather.

Jackson chose our seats under the covered bleachers. He chose nearer the front which meant the rainy was blown into our faces.  Which we didn't really realize until all the dryer seats were taken.  It was about 8:30 when Jackson first told me he was bored -- he made it a whole 15 minutes.  He got enthused when the rest of his relay teammates grabbed him  to play in the puddles for some team bonding.

The events were delayed, probably something to do with rain peeing down, so Jackson was waiting, jumping over puddles and standing in the rain for close to an hour.  Without a jacket.

When his race came, he was on lane 1 and the lead off runner.  I couldn't see him run the end of his leg and was only happy that it didn't appear that he dropped the baton on the handoff, which is so something I would have done.

I learned two things about Jackson qua track athlete:

1.  He probably lacks the competitive edge to be a serious track star.  He ran faster during his warm up lap than he did in his race.  I've raced him and when he's motivated by a wager with Mommy for extra dessert, he can move like a cheetah.  But since they don't allow mothers in district track meets as a pacer, I guess we'll never know what he's capable of there.
2.  The boy loves the camera. I was cheering as I took photos and he looked at me and smiled.  I'm pretty sure he slowed down. Nothing like having a Mommy as a blogger.

You might say Jackson was a little proud of his 4th place ribbon.  But you would be vastly understating it.

Then he returned to the bleachers and the expectation was that he would remain for the rest of the day and cheer on his team.  But he was damp to the core. And with no body fat for insulation, he shivered. And was miserable.  Anyone that's been around this blog for 10 minutes or more, knows what Jackson miserable looks like.

I set him up in a dryish part of the bleechers with friends. I had to take Husband to the train, Sydney to school. I planned to go home for a cup of hot coffee and then return in the afternoon.  He initially seemed okay with that plan. I thought I might be able to break him out early if the weather stayed bad.

As I was walking off he said "you better bring me a warm jacket and every jacket you can find in the house".

I could tell his voice was breaking.  He wasn't about to make a scene.  But I know the torrent of emotion would go underground and make an appearance later in the safe harbour of our home.  You know, one of those underground volcanoes.

All's well that ends well.  In the end, I asked the grade 3 supervising teacher if Jackson needed to stay and she readily agreed he did not need to endure any further misery. An early exit and an afternoon warming up by the fire and Jackson is still basking in the glow of his yellow ribbon.

1 comment:

Robin said...

Oh, look at him go!