The other day I wrote a post about knowing when to walk away from something and letting go. Ironically, the next day my brother sent me a text message reminding me of my “glory days” which took me right back to a past life.
If you don’t live in the Philadelphia area or follow track and field, you probably know little if anything about the Penn Relays and the truth is, you’re missing out. While track and field is nowhere near as popular as football or baseball or many sports for that matter, this weekend runners from various parts of the world gather in Philadelphia to participate in the oldest and largest track competition held at University of Pennsylvania’s historic Franklin Field. The Penn Relay Carnival features athletes from various skill levels including professional, college, high school and even elementary school. For me, it was one of the most incredible opportunities of my life and I was extremely fortunate to the get the chance to run the 4x100 relay on the legendary track four times during my short lived track and field career.
There is no feeling quite like stepping out on the rust colored rubber of the track at Franklin Field. As you wait in the paddock area, stretching and pacing all to help choke down the nerves that are swirling through your stomach, you contemplate the immensity of what lies before you. One race is all you are guaranteed. As the weight of that fact slowly sinks into your subconscious, sweat begins to lubricate your palms as you to pray over and over in your head, “don’t let me drop the baton”. You gather with the three other people who also hold your team’s fate in their hands and practice the mechanical motions that you have set up to ensure the perfect passing of the hollow medal stick. The calls of “Go”, “Stick”, or “Hand” can be heard in constant repetition as teams warm up. One by one, they hear their names called and are placed into lines with the other competitors who will make up their heat. Each heat takes the track leaving the one behind them anxiously awaiting the end of their race.
As you walk on the spongy surface of the track towards your allotted relay position, you try with all your might to focus on the task at hand but you can’t help but glace up at the faces of the crowd sitting in the stands and staring down just waiting to see what you will do. Starters practice what they hope will be the perfect beginning to the race. They crouch down to lean on their figures and envision the roar of the gun before pushing their feet off the starting blocks and launching themselves forward. The second, third and final leg runners carefully try to remember the number of steps they need to mark off to let them know exactly when to start running so that the previous runner can begin to command them. The shortness of the exchange zone is the number one worry running through their minds as they reassure themselves that they will do whatever it takes to make sure they have the baton within its confines. Every runner is shaking hands, arms or legs trying to stay loose and manage the emotions raging through their bodies.
The nerves reach an overwhelming peak as the starters are called to line. Runners take your mark! They place their hands on the ground, fingers gently kissing the line in front of them but still firmly planted behind it and kick their feet into the blocks. Get set! They push themselves up preparing to pounce. BOOM!
Within seconds the race is over. Some runners fall or drop the baton. Some, despite all their careful planning, mess up a hand off and find themselves disqualified for leaving the zone. Others just simply come up short for no better reason than the fact that another team was better. Some are just thankful to have been there while others feel pain of the heartbreak as they walk off the track, hanging their heads in defeat. Then there are the few teams that cross the finish line first. These teams get an immediate thrill of hope and joy in knowing that they won but they are quickly brought back down to earth when they remember that it is not winning or losing that will determine whether they get to stand among the elite that will get another chance to race but rather it is the time on the clock that will hold their fate.
Most people think that track is nothing more than running around in circles and wonder where the fun is in that but I say watch a 4x100 relay and I dare you to not see the fun in it. As for how this all relates to letting go and knowing when to walk away, I am reminded that when one stage of your life ends, it leaves memories behind like bread crumbs marking the path that you took. You can always take a jog down memory lane to remember where you’ve been, even long after you've crossed the finish line of that particular race.
“Life is often compared to a marathon, but I think it is more like being a sprinter; long stretches of hard work punctuated by brief moments in which we are given the opportunity to perform at our best.” - Michael Johnson
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