Still tracking

After running the 200, 100, and 400 in the first meet (Branson) and long jumping in the second meet (also at Branson), Andrew wasn’t entered in the third meet (Rogers) because it was an all-relay meet, and he hasn’t trained for relays. Not for lack of desire, mind you; he says the track thing he’d like to do more than anything else is to run in the 4 by 400.  = )  But although he’s a senior, this is Andrew’s first time ever to be involved in track, so I think his lack of experience and expertise has limited his opportunities. At each of the next three meets (Harrison, Ozark, and Joplin), he was entered in the long jump.

The thing to understand is that doing a long jump takes maybe 15 seconds total, so being a track mom is a little different from being, say, a choir mom (who watches her kid’s ensemble sing for 20 glorious minutes out of a 100-minute concert), or a drama mom (who watches an amazing two-hour musical in which her kid is acting and/or singing in several scenes). And then there are baseball or basketball or football moms (who watch their kid’s team play an entire game). A mom of a long jumper, on the other hand, arrives when the meet starts, sits and waits until the time comes for her kid run very fast and jump incredibly far for a total of less than a minute, and then waits patiently for another unknown amount of time to see the results.

But oh, the joy of watching those 45 seconds!

I went to Harrison to watch Andrew long jump, arriving – after only a few wrong turns – at 3:25. The field events were scheduled to begin at 3:30, and I innocently thought that the long jumping would be done by 4:30 and I’d be back home by 5:30. That’s not exactly how things worked out. When I got to the stadium and realized that the field events had actually started around 3:15, I initially panicked, fearing that I had missed my son’s moment(s) of glory, but I need not have worried. One four letter word that can never mentioned in conjunction with a track meet is S-O-O-N.

Andrew’s first jump was at 5:12, and since Scott couldn’t be there, I wanted to get some pictures. I’ve learned that my phone actually does better than my camera at catching the action, so I practiced on some previous jumpers and endeavored to get at least one shot during each of Andrew’s jumps.

I will say that for the spectators, there’s a lot – really, quite an excessive amount – of sitting around and waiting. The athletes also do a lot of sitting around and waiting, followed by a bit of warming up and then another hefty dose of standing around and waiting.

See, there he is in his red and black, standing around and waiting. And if we wait around long enough and keep watching closely, and if our cell phone battery doesn’t die first, Andrew’ eventually going to run toward us and jump into a sandy pit that’s out of view just beyond the bottom left corner of the picture.

 

I told you so! He’s finally gotten the go-ahead to run, and here he comes.

 

If he steps over that second-from-the-pit line, his jump will be  a “scratch” and it’ll be disqualified. (I believe it’s permissible to step on the line, but not over it.)

 

 

No scratch! And look at him fly!

 

Wow. The eagle has landed.

 

 

This particular day was horrifically windy. When the meet started, it was about 75 degrees and sunny, and throughout the whole thing, the wind was 15-20 mph and gusting to nearly 30. After his jumps, Andrew came and sat with me. He was pretty excited, telling me he had jumped a PR (personal record) of 18 feet, zero inches. He told me all about the mechanics of it; what you do and how and when and why, and we both got some education watching the people who were marking and measuring the jumps. We also watched a number of races, which we enjoyed.

The reason we kept sitting there for so long was that the stadium has a big electronic scoreboard, and from time to time, they would post the results of the various events. The board could only fit eight listings at a time, so in races or field events where there were multiple heats, or when there were lots of competing athletes or teams, the results would appear in sets of eight, along with the four-letter abbreviation of each schools.

Waiting for Andre to jump, I’d had plenty of time (a gross understatement!) to study that sign, so here, in no special order, I will provide the names of the schools that were at that track meet.

Springdale

Harrison

Branson

Yellville

Omaha

Clinton

Cotter

Berryville

Green forest

Valley springs

Clarksville

Berryville

Huntsville

Alpena

Clinton

Flippin

Jasper

Eureka springs

Kingston

Oark (not a typo)

Marshall

There’s a song that says, “I don’t need my name in lights; I’m famous in my Father’s eyes…” but I am not the least bit ashamed to say that I wanted to see Andrew’s name up on that board. And take a picture of it.  = )  So we sat and waited and sat and waited and sat and waited and watched the board. I was wearing jeans and a polo shirt and had brought a hoodie, but Andrew was just in his jersey and shorts, and with the wind still whipping, he was getting pretty cold. But gentleman that he is, he didn’t want to go back to his friends and leave me alone to watch the sign, and, well, I’m stubborn. I wasn’t about to move out of my seat till I got a picture of that sign!

The sun went down, the stadium lights came on, Andrew shivered, and still we sat and waited, and finally, at 7:23…

 

So now we have proof that Andrew long jumped 18 feet, finishing 12th out of about 24 men. We gave each other high fives, he ran back to join his teammates, and I was so proud and happy that I treated myself to Wendy’s on the way home.

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