I had a routine. Look in the cabinets. Close the cabinets. Look in the refrigerator. Close the refrigerator. Stand and stare out the window and think about food. Repeat until forced to choose food.
I didn’t feel like I belonged, and I had this nagging feeling I should quit. When I finally told my mom I wasn’t going to sign up again next year this huge wave of relief washed over me. I knew right away I made the right decision.
My hell was just beginning. Body weak and sweaty, I lined up between the first set of wooden doors. Instructions for number of laps and times expected were handed out, and then we ran, and ran, and ran.
If I look back I can see how the culmination of high school combined with the friends and mentors I interacted with, not only created my worldly perspectives but also shaped how I viewed myself.
Wait, wait, wait. What the hell Jay I thought we were talking about personal growth, not puberty!
The large engine came to life as it guzzled gas and the car leapt forward. The curvy dark road was a direct shot back to town. At this time of night it wasn’t heavily used so the car behind us came up neck and neck to my car.
Middle school ended up being a mixed bag of shit. My attempts to organize this time period in a have been futile. Afterall, how do I summarize an experience that consisted of daily challenges, growth experiences along with long periods of time where I was daydreaming?!
The anxiety in my body was palpable. It sat right in my gut as a mixture of butterflies, tension, and excitement whirled around in a tight, twisted ball. My friends hit me on the back wishing me luck and I stepped onto the track. My body was humming. I couldn’t hear. I was numb.