To the Track Again

It was good to be back at the track. The young boy and I went together listening to a variety of hip hop.

We weren’t fully yet awake, but there is something about music that gets one moving.

It was dark when we started and dawn was just breaking during our last 400m repetitions. But the track was full. The day here had begun over an hour before.

Heartbeats, sweat, tiredness, soreness, whistles, timings, stopwatches – a constellation of stuff had already happened and the day had not yet begun. This – not for me – not for an amateur Joe.

But this certainly for the dozens who were here to train for a job, a position, a college admission, a team, dreaming, asking of oneself, the prospects of a future that this track and their effort would bring.