I always consider myself to be someone who is far more in tune with the energies the world gives off than the average person. Sometimes when I actually say this out loud, people look at me funny and wonder if I'm serious. No, I didn't smoke my breakfast and this is not some new age Bellingham hippie talk -- I truly believe it. Maybe it's the fact that I spend way too much time by myself in front of a computer monitor surrounded by images I've created that I hope can impact other's lives in some way. Or just maybe there's a little truth to it.
So as I stood at the 1A Tri-District track & field meet last Saturday at King's High School, I found myself on the football field between two distraught teenage girls. One was huddled behind a fence being consoled by her teammates as she sobbed uncontrollably, while the other lay sprawled out on the football field a few yards from me with tears in her eyes. I'm not going to claim to know exactly what happened, but from my recollection, there was a fall between some front runners in the final 400 meters of the mile. I had my back to the race and turned for just a second to catch the moment out of my periphery.
I finished taking photos of finishers at the finish line and after the race, I walked over to the coaches and asked what happened. His response was silence. Sometimes I forget that these young athletes have been working all season toward a goal. Dreaming of earning only a few spots from each race to make it to that state meet in Tacoma. And these coaches are spearheading those dreams. They're carefully cultivating goals within these athletes week after week. They're monitoring how many miles they run, their diet, their health, their mental awareness. And then, in the blink of an eye, suddenly those dreams are dashed by a fall that leaves athletes emotionally spent and huddled sobbing uncontrollably in the arms of their teammates behind a chain link fence. So, ya, silence is undoubtedly the appropriate answer.
Looking back on it now, I don't blame the coach for his silence. It was a question I probably shouldn't have asked at that moment. It was a question he didn't have answers for. Why did the race turn out that way? Well, as long as we're waxing philosophically here, let me say that I also believe in destiny. You know, that everything happens for a reason and when it does, that is the path in life you were destined to take. So I'm gonna say this to those young ladies who were giving off such heavy energy that it almost drove me to tears last Saturday -- that was the race you were destined to have.
Track and field is a great sport. It can teach you about dedication, commitment and living healthy. These are life lessons you can take with you forever. Last Saturday we learned that it can also teach you a little something about adversity and tragedy.Consider that as you decide how to bounce back from such a heartbreaking loss. Sure these are lessons we all would rather not deal with, but life has a way of teaching us lessons when we least expect it. A fall is just a fall, but your ability to get up, deal with that adversity and move forward in life is the lesson last Saturday's race was destined to teach. And it's not just a lesson for the young ladies in that race, it was also taught to every spectator in the stands and now every reader of this blog. Your actions are far-reaching and can impact the lives of many.
Hopefully those coaches also learned a lesson or two from the race. Maybe the answers they're looking for will never appear. But once all the tears have dried and the heartache has faded, know that all the hard work, preparation and sacrifice they made prepared those young athletes for the race they were destined to have and ultimately taught them valuable life lessons. Trust in the energies you give and receive. Know that the path you're on is the right one. Okay, even I can admit it, now it's sounding a little bit new age hippyish. You know what that means? This blog is officially over.
