A quote… from myself
I once got a 4th place ribbon in a 7 person 800-meter race, except all of the 6 other people in that race crossed the finish line before me…
A mentioned this on my About page, and now I will tell the story to go along with it. And no I did not attempt to cheat, fail, and get what I deserve
When I was in grade 7 all my friends and I decided to sign up for track and field events.
No, we were not, a few of us were a few of these things, but overall we were not the regular people to participate in s
- school spirited
- exercise loving
We did like tag though.
I really don’t know why we all decided to sign. I think it was just a “hey, it’s our last year of elementary, why the heck not?” This, I believe was my general mindset at the time: why the heck not. Like millennials are known for, I did it for the participation. Not so much the ribbon part though. I take no pride in holding up my pink or white (depending on if there were 6 or 7 people in a race) and saying:
Mom, dad, look, I got a last place ribbon. Praise meeeee!!
Don’t get me wrong, they would still say a good job for trying and all that. But this is all beside the point
Back to the story
I usually did the 100-200 meter, and the 400-meter relay races. At the time I did soccer but was not much a runner. Be the goalie was more my thing. Who doesn’t like having the odds stacked against them and a ball flying at some part of their body?
A large track and field sign up sheet was posted outside of my classroom, my teacher at the time was in charge of track and field for the upper grades. So picked up the blue felt pen, after debating what to sign up for with my friends, and put my name down for a few stuff I knew I wouldn’t be overly terrible in. When we all finished putting our names down in various spaces I noticed that no one had signed up for the 800 meter. So, I thought to my self, how hard could that be? Two laps, I can do that
When we got to the track on the day of the meet I decided to try and 800 meters before competing in one. Because it’s not like I should have maybe done this before signing up, or even before going to the meet. Nope, I was fine, it was fine. And it was fine. I took a leisurely jog around the track twice, didn’t have to walk, and barely broke a sweat.
My other races of the day, don’t even remember what they were but I know I got pink and white ribbons, aka last and second last. Oh well at least I tried
Then came the 800 meter…
Alright, I can do this, you’ve already done two laps and it was fine, it’s all good, you got this
My thoughts post the loud “BANG”
Oh my god, why the heck is everyone running so fast, I am so screwed
So I speed until I was close to the person currently in second last place. At this time I was basically sprinting. Quite a far cry from my leisurely warm-up jog. My main reason for speeding up to match their passe was not so that I wouldn’t lose, that was a given when I signed my self up. I speed up so that I wouldn’t look stupid. Ironically enough that is exactly how id use to describe my look, because 5 seconds after I speed up, aka sprinted, I came to the logical conclusion that I could not keep this pass for even a quarter of the way. This was made quite apparent by the fact that I was starting to slow down and everyone, was in fact, quite a ways ahead of me already.
For the most part, it was a blur.
During this “blurred” state I was in the race coordinator decided to start another race. Whether they same me a figured I wasn’t apart of it, or I was on my last lap (which it was) they started. If your wondering how on earth I didn’t manage to hear the sound “BANG” my answer is: I don’t know. My best guess would be I was too busy contemplating the notion of tripping my self. I know, a little drastic, but my only other idea at the time was to pretend I had to tie my shoe… which really would have made me look stupid…er.
Fortunately, or unfortunately, depending on how you look at it, I decided neither option was very good. Mind you at this time I was about 200 meters away from the finish line. On my way to the finish line I saw one girl pass me, and then another, and another.
I kept going, at a passe slower than walking but had the arm movements to make it look like a jog at the very least.
I made it! Thank god. All I want is water and to sit down.
But I had to get my ribbon first. 7th place here I come. Then an orange 3rd place ribbon was put into my hand…
This shoud be a 7th place one. Dont they know I was in the other race?
“Oh wait” Iheard they guy whio gave me my ribbon shout.
“Sorry, wrong one. Here you go,” he said as he exchanged ribbons with me
Okay good, they figured it out. Can I please just go sit down now?
As turn to walk away and look down at my ribbon I notice something wrong. A yellow ribbon… 4th place.
Well fluff me in the alpaka with a donky’s pineaple! Translation: At this point I really don’t care. This is not my problem.
And this is basically how the story ends. I just went to the nearest open bench, sat down, had some water, and tried not to barf, thinking
11th. I got 11th in a seven person race. How fluffin slow does one have to do something like this?