It's hot again this week (high 90's, indexes in the 100's) so I did my mileage on the inside track yesterday. It's more boring but you're less likely to melt on the hot asphalt. This week also happens to be some type of Jr High Girls' Basketball Camp so the rec center is overrun with basketball players. It's brought back some painful memories of my stint as a Jr High Basketball player.
In 7th grade I had the unfortunate experience of going to a small private school whose only requirement for you to play in the Jr High girls' division was that you were a girl and in junior high. Skills mattered not.
So there we were, a sad group of players (some of whom were actually afraid of the ball), forced to run up and down the court against teams that actually had people who knew what they were doing. We lost. A lot.
And the running - always running.
Not leisurely long distance runs where you keep your heart rate at a certain beat. No! Up and down until you puke because we don't have enough players to ever bring in an alternative.
Not that I ever puked. But I felt like it. Needless to say, this experience did not instill a love of sports into my teenage mind. My 8th grade year we moved to a new town and I did not participate in any sports. I had enough.
So now 20 years later as I circle above the girls running back and forth across the court I feel two things. 1) Thank God it isn't me anymore. 2) I wish I would have had a better experience and not ended up a size 16-18 in high school.