Run, Lois, Run!

I am grateful for experiences like this:

When I was in high school, my best friend and I thought it would be fun to join the track team (everyone was allowed on and that way we could avoid regular PE).

The coach noticed my lack of ability and decided that I would run the JV two-mile event. Since there were no girls in our area that ran the JV two-mile, I would automatically win as long as I finished the race and our team would get the points.

I felt I was suffering enough just by running eight times around the track during meets, so I never did anything during practice. I would goof off all week and on competition day just walk/skip/amble around the track, finish, and win.

Well, obviously my coach and I weren't thinking ahead because since I was "undefeated," I had made it to the regionals/area/state competition (I'm so non-athletic, I'm not even sure which one it was -- I just know that for the first time I was actually competing against people and these were girls that lived, ate and breathed running).

Mine was the first race of the meet, so at least I could get it over with quick. We started the race and I soon got lapped. No big deal. Then I got lapped again! OK, this is bad. Then, all the other girls finished the race and I still had two laps to go! As if that wasn't humiliating enough, the officials decided that I was taking too long, so they made me run on the inside of the track (the grass of the football field) so that they could set up the hurdles for the next race.

By this time I figured that everyone had forgotten about me and hoped they thought that I was just warming up by running on the grass. I was also seriously debating faking an appendicitis attack, but I couldn't remember which side my appendix was on.

When it came time for my last 100 meters, they let me run on the track again and I finally crossed the finish line. I was hoping to fade away quietly, but the crowd in the stands was always aware of me and they all stood up and cheered when I finally finished (but I'm convinced they were cheering more for the school that let "that special girl" join their track team).

Well, many years later, I've realized that I am "special." I may not be the most prepared, I may not do all the things that I should be doing, but I do finish the race. I don't give up, no matter how tempting it may be. I may not have the most triumphant end, but I'm sure there will be a crowd of people cheering when I do.