Sometimes—just sometimes—track meets remind me of cafeteria duty. This was one of them. There was just too much running (“Wait for the gun, ladies!”), cutting in (“Nicky elbowed me, so I went around him!”), tripping (“Ooooh! Did you see that one in the 100 hurdles?”), misuse of athletic equipment (“Gentlemen, please take the balls out of the infield!”), dishes flying everywhere (Was that another UFO?), and noise so deafening that I couldn’t hear the person next to me (“No, K, K! Kody with a K!) This meet even had food. (“We’ll be taking a 45 minute lunch break now.”) By the time the sun set, my ears were ringing so loud that I was beginning to “hunch”. (Or was that just another bell lap?) At any rate, the last thing I remember was thinking that I had Excedrin headache #4 (by four).
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Ralph's Musings: Spruce Creek Invitational
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