As if things weren't busy enough, I agreed to coach the track team at my school this year. A good friend of mine had been the coach for years, making the team a perennial power, winning the city championship the last nine years in a row. My buddy took a job at the high school down the road, and he asked if I would take over for him. He said he trusted me to take over and keep the team rolling, uphold the tradition. How could I refuse?
With 50 boys on the team, there's a ton of paper work. Managing practices and meets is like herding cats at times. It's a lot of work, and juggling track and teaching is wearing me down. With 6 meets in April, things will be pretty crazy. We're on Spring Break this week, so I'm hoping to be rested and ready to go for the stretch run.
Here's a little story that makes it all worth it.
One of my guys was very upset about being moved up to the C division (kids compete in classes determined by height and weight). That's where his measurements put him, but he didn't think he could handle it. He was particularly worried about the high jump. He was sure he couldn't even jump the beginning height.
At our first meet, he was a wreck. On his first attempt, he just missed clearing the bar. I pulled him aside and gave him a little instruction on his technique, assuring him that he could clear the height with ease. And that's exactly what my man did.
The look on his face was pure joy.
My man cleared the next three heights, and each time the smile got bigger and bigger. I could literally see the confidence growing. It was truly an awesome sight.
Let me tell ya, it doesn't get any better than that.