Yesterday was our annual Field Day event, where area elementary schools are invited to a track and field competition. I was once again a “place holder” person. Actually, this time our AD guy told me I was in charge of all the place holder people. I heard Uncle Ben’s words echoing through my head: With great power comes great responsibility.
There wasn’t really anything to be “in charge” of. We each had a runner to tackle after they crossed the finish line. I had first place, like last year. It’s kind of a nice place to have, because I didn’t have to deal with kids who were like me when I was in elementary school… you know, that kid who runs like he’s dying and still comes in last and then can’t catch his breath and collapses on the ground? Yeah… that was me.
Anyway, I forgot how hot our turf field gets. I wore jeans and a long sleeve shirt because it was cool in the morning. But by 10am, it was already too warm. Next year I’m wearing short shorts and a half shirt.
I HATE track and field day. HATE! In our grade school we were forced to participate. We were forced to choose a track event and a field event, and were forced to participate in forced competition. I HATED it!!! I don’t run. Ever. And somehow I always ended up in the 200m – what the? Does anything about me look like I can handle a long, energy sucking, lung collapsing sprint? AAAAAAHHHHHH!!!! I hate track and field day.
(And I’m obviously still carrying the scars of bitterness.)
One of my most embarrassing childhood memories is from track and field day in elementary school. After running some stupid event I had to adjust my training bra – mind you I had no boobs to keep it in place. Anyway, Mr. Ford, the PE teacher, saw me and proceded to imitate me from across the field. He had a big grin on his face. I was mortified.
I still see Mr. Ford from time to time (his grandson plays soccer with my son.) He’s now in his 70’s and still fit as a fiddle. (I hate him for that.) Last year one day when we ran into each other, I brought up that embarrassing moment. He had no memory of it, but apologized anyway. We had a good chuckle.
Was this the same long sleeve shirt that you wore to school the previous day?
Ah, Uncle Ben – I really like his rice. It’s other-worldly.
I’m with Beth – running should only be done if a big dog is chasing you.
Haha! We actually talked about that yesterday: a race where you were being chased. But rather than dogs, we thought ostriches would be more entertaining.
The Ostrich 200m… I bet Beth would be really good at it.
Shut up.
Maybe you should just cut off the gray long sleeve shirt to make a half shirt. Then you will have a track and field day shirt and be reminded not to put it on for the next dress down day. Two birds…one stone…do the math!
I would only cut that shirt if I could leave the long sleeves that come down to cover half my hands. Does a half shirt with long sleeves break some kind of fashion rule?
No, it would be fierce!
Ahhh yes – fierce! You could be stylin’ like our Christian from Project Runway. I think you should also try a lop-sided hairstyle. So fierce!
Maybe you could sew some ribbons on it. Or some manly metal studs.
You could cut the sleeves off and sew them to a short sleeve shirt so for the next dress down day you still have a tshirt with your favorite sleeves.
Heh. That’s funny.
You meant “long sleeve”,singular, didn’t you … if you cut 1/2 the shirt off … you’ll only have one sleeve … do the math!
Clever. Tricksy Peggy.
That sounds like you’re making a midriff shirt out of it, and I hope that’s not your intent, sir…
How about just wearing a short-sleeved polo like many of our middle schoolers: pull your arms way in so only half you hands stick out the sleeves. Best of both worlds then, eh? (Apparently, this is a popular option for them when they are “cold”…or feel like acting out…or want to make their teacher mad…or…)