There I was running on the track, thus making good use of the time between YaYa’s soccer pictures and game time. I hadn’t planned it. As such, I wasn’t fully equipped for the task. Since these moments seem rare, I was not going to let it go by without a try – jog bra or not.
It seemed to be working out. Perhaps, others would disagree with me but I wasn’t aware of any odd stares as I circled round the track. I listened to some music and took in my surroundings as I went.
I ran behind a young women. Watching her wave to her son in the play area with each lap, I could easily reminisce over my past experiences doing the same. I suppose that motherhood and running has it’s own stages of development.
After a bit, the mom and I were passed by a young man in black and red shorts. He didn’t appear to be going very fast so I did my best to keep up with him. I lost him for a bit, but then lapped him after he had stopped to walk the final lap of his 1-mile run. He was not impressed.
Onward I ran. In my next lap, I passed a young women with shoulders which were beautifully sculpted to a level of fitness I could not help but admire. I was now running with a completely different set of people. It seemed strange to me as I was still working on my 3rd mile. My music urged me to keep going and, as I ran, I took in more of the sights around me.
On the center field, there was a girls soccer game being played. I watched the colorfully uniformed girls with their pigtails flying as they fought for possession of the purple soccer ball. It was such a pretty color that I found myself wanting one. I wondered if I would have tried harder to conquer my "no ball-sports" rule if soccer balls had been that pretty when I was younger.
On the sidelines and in the stands, the crowd cheered loudly. There was one father (I assume) that was especially energetic about his daughter "winning" the ball. His yells for her to run "faster" and "harder" got me going too. Even over the sound of my music.
With another mile behind me, I watched the teams refuel on the edge of the field. Around me was yet another set of runners and walkers. Up ahead, I could see a mother with her son running wildly behind her. His movements revealed the newness of his ability to run. He, however, had more determination than everyone on the track. I removed one earpiece and cheered for him as I passed. "YOU are a GREAT runner," I said. Toothlessly, he beamed at me.
I finished up. Then I was able to sit and enjoy the sunshine as I watched YaYa and his team finish their warm up. Then the game began.