Rained out...

Friday, May 7, 2010


I had volunteered to work the Mayfield Track Invitational Friday evening and knew it would be late before I’d get to run. I was going for my 6th day in a row and looking forward to the challenge. I was feeling really good all day – no aches or pains and figured there would be no problems.

I was the clerk of the meet, which means I’m in the bullpen all night checking in the runners and telling them their lane assignments. I discovered quickly that distance runners pay attention better than sprinters.

“Sir…what lane am I in again?”

“Didn’t I just give you that assignment 10 seconds ago?”

“I…um…forgot,” the young lady replied.

“No big deal. Got a buck and I’ll tell you,” I said.

She looked at me trying to decide if she would have to cough up her money for a concession she was planning to buy right after running. I looked serious and kept my hand out. I waited until she started to reach for her back pack before telling her if she forgot again it would be 5 bucks, but I’d let it slide this time. I overheard her talking to some other runners.

“Look out for that guy that looks like John Locke. He charges if you forget your lane assignment.”

No one else forgot.

The clerk controls the pace of the meet. You have to have the next group of runners ready to run as soon as the current event is completed. Waste time checking them in and you fall behind forever. I was doing this for the first time, but I was a task master and they were slipping through liked a greased pig. No waiting…no muss…no fuss.

And it went that way until the second last event of the evening when lightning began showing up in the skies about 5 miles away. Some of the kids were getting nervous and asking me what I was going to do.

“I’m going over to the concession stand and getting out of harm’s way. You check in the next bunch of kids. I’ve got kids to put through college – you don’t so you’re expendable,” I said as I handed a runner my clipboard.

She looked at me trying to decide what to do next. Suddenly, the decision was taken out of our hands as the meet director announced the meet was cancelled and everyone should head for the buses.

By the time I made it to the car, the sky was lit up like Jacob’s Field (I refuse to call it by that other name) after an Indian’s home run (which may not happen this year with the team we’re fielding – don’t get me started…). I really wanted to head for the park, but once the hail stones started smashing into my car, I figured the prudent thing to do was drive home and wait it out.

I was still waiting Saturday morning.

So…maybe a day off is a good thing and now I’ve got to start that streak over again. We’ll get there.

Track meet duration: 3 hours.

Training heart rate: Lower than the kids I was signing in.

Calories burned while harassing forgetful high school runners: Probably a couple of hundred.