Track Meet

Ever since I got back from the LASC convention last weekend, I have been non-stop with coaching track. We had our first meet on Thursday. We finished seventh out of eight teams, but I think we can improve before the district meet in a week and a half. My brother/assistant coach and I have made some adjustments and will keep on trying to get better. We've got some good kids and I hope that I haven't let them down with poor coaching.

In spite of our lackluster finish, I was encouraged by some things:

1. We were always competitive. While we lacked those 1st and 2nd place finishes that are so critical in a meet, my runners were always with the pack and were not embarrassed. That was encouraging and I think that there's room for growth.

2. One of my runners finished 3rd in the mile run (around 5:40) and was about to finish 3rd or 4th in the two mile run when, about 40 yards from the finish, he suddenly stopped. I encouraged him to finish the race and he collapsed on the track. We carried him off and his dad brought him to the hospital. It ends up that he's out for the season due to some sort of hip injury, but I am quite proud of that boy, because I have always told my runners that we have insurance if they give it their all and collapse. Although I meant to collapse after the finish line, I was glad to have a runner give it his all.

The greatest highlight had little to do with the competition. I had just walked onto the field, when I heard a few girls scream, "MR. [FEANOR]!!!" I looked to see two of my former students from last year running up to me and gave me some of the hugest hugs that I have been given in awhile - one of those where they run up together and you have to hug both of them at once. I miss my former students terribly, and there's no better feeling to see that they miss you just as much... if not more.

Often, I have wondered whether I have left a trail of ill-will in my wake, but I am seeing more and more the young lives that I have touched with this bullshit job we all refer to as "teaching." While the adult part of this profession is incredibly frustrating, what comes "from the mouths of babes" makes up for it tenfold.