The 400 and Whatchamacallits Part 2

The 400 and Whatchamacallits Part 2 Read Part 1 Here 

Weights Class

I started elementary school early, which meant I didn’t turn 16 until the middle of my Junior year. It was horrible; I was the second youngest in my class. At one point, I had friends who were 18 (they got held back) when I was still 16.

Bob attended my high school and was still one of the “popular” kids dating a “popular girl. I was good friends with his girlfriend (she played in the band all through Junior High) this helped keep Bob on my good side, and I on his. For a little while, before they started dating, I had a small crush on her. It didn’t last long.

Bob ended up being in my weights class, which was cool. We ended up being lifting buddies when some of his boxing friends weren’t there or when the football players had a game that day. We talked about boxing and how he and his family got into it, and what makes a good boxer, etc. Most of the time we ended up in the gym playing basketball, cause the pe coach was also the cross-country coach and had to help them practice.

The 400

Coach wanted to see if any of his weight class kids were fast enough to be on the track team. He had us all run the 400-meter sprints one day.

He took us over to the fields by the Orem Recreation Center. There is an outdoor track, and he had portioned off a section to run the 400 in pairs. Not only did we have to run it, but we also had to run it with someone else. We were running it in pairs. It was horrible. I was in good shape and played basketball daily. I did cardio with the cheerleaders, (I was the school mascot) and spent time lifting every other day.

Bob (again not his real name) and I got matched up to run the 400. He was a fast kid and spent a lot of time running as part of his boxing routine. It was not going to be pretty. The coach had one of his track kids stay with the class, and he went to the end line to keep time.

We lined up side by side and Kevin, the track student, raised his hand. The coach blew his whistle, and we started running. I was trying to run fast, but my little legs wouldn’t let me. Bob, was off to the races and was probably 30 or 40 meters ahead of me by the time we hit the halfway mark.

Then something amazing happened. He slowed down. Not to a walk, but to a pace that was not his best, but that also allowed me to catch up. I arrived next to him with about 50 meters to go.

He said something to the effect of “Let’s do this together.” I sprinted as fast as I could, and I am sure he turned it back up to level six or seven. He crossed the finished line just before me, with the coach yelling at him about effort and being a lazy behind.

The Silence

We never talked about it after that moment. Fast forward 23 years. Part 3 tomorrow.