My father (the driver) stops the car at the intersection. In the back, I open the left-side door and hop out of the car before he starts driving again. “See you later!” I call. I run to the side of the road, and then enter the sacred grounds. The beautiful track is steaming in the sunlight; so warm and inviting. I run through the path between the bleachers and the fence to the track and note how many of the steeples are lowered to my height. Only one. Dammit! I shrug off my disappointment and step onto the brilliant black track.
I do not even know what my plan is. Just keep running and try not to run over the walkers? Sounds good to me. I walk over to the starting line and step forward as if a Track & Field official had just blown the whistle. In my head, an imaginary gun goes off, and my legs start moving. I round the curve and face my one and only obstacle: the steeple that is low enough for me to jump over. I count out my steps and successfully get over the steeple. Now, I look into the sun and run. Lap after lap, steeple after steeple, I finish my first four laps and decide to take a short break.
I stretch on one of the higher steeples and realize how much I miss having track practice everyday. Yes, it is a very stressful and nerve-wracking sport, but I love it so much. It keeps me in shape, and I enjoy trying to beat records that others have set, and of course, my own. I stretch my calves and my hamstrings as the walkers around me continue their workouts. Am I ready to go again? Oh yeah! Four more laps, then a break – that is my master plan. Three sets of four laps – and that will total three miles. All of those miles taking place on the lovely track.
Lap after lap, steeple after steeple, sweat droplet after sweat droplet. I finish my second set of four laps, and really begin feeling the heat. My feet are boiling from running on the hot, black track, and the sweat is pouring off of me. Stretch a little, and then do it again, one more time!
Lap after lap, steeple after steeple, sweat droplet after sweat droplet, foot pain after foot pain. I finish my third and last set of four laps. I feel great and secure knowing that I am still in shape. I practice jumping over the lone steeple and begin to cool off. One more lap, and I can call it a day. My last lap is now finished, and I walk on the path that separates the fence from the bleachers and feel complete. Goodbye, my beautiful track! And I slowly break into a jog and let my legs take me wherever they please.