Not a chance in hail

The UM track and field team hosted its home opener (the Al Manuel Invitational) yesterday in Missoula. I attended the meet and, in true has-been fashion, mingled with fellow spectators and offered them my (usually unsolicited) opinions about the day’s performances. I even used introductory phrases like, “You know, back when I was running for the Griz…” and “Well, in my day…”

I sounded like one of those old-timer track junkies who creep around at local meets, stalk the athletes, and try to talk strategy with them before their races. I’m glad I caught myself before I started rambling about my days of running the 440 on a dirt track.

I had left the house that morning fully expecting to have an emotional breakdown at some point during the day. I pictured myself totally losing it as the mid-distance girls lined up for the 800 meters. And yes, I will admit that my eyes were a little misty when the starting gun was fired. But it was the high-speed, hail-speckled gusts of wind—not lack of emotional control—that caused my eyes to well up involuntarily.

I bumped into my former coaches at several points throughout the meet. When I stopped to chat with the head coach, he asked me if it was hard for me to watch and not compete. I assured him that I was decidedly not jealous of the 800 runners who had to deal with a nasty headwind laced with tiny ice shards as they fought their way down the homestretch.

“Ahh, come on,” he teased. “There’s a little part of you that was just dying to be on that starting line.”

Well, maybe a little, teeny-weeny, itsy-bitsy, Ryan Seacrest-sized part of me. For the most part, though, I was surprisingly content to stay dry and (sort of) warm underneath multiple layers of clothing as I snapped photos for the Montana Grizzlies website.

After scrolling through my shoot this morning, I breathed an audible sigh of relief at not seeing my own agony-distorted face somewhere among my hundreds of race photos. Maybe I’m just trying really hard to cope with the loss of my status as a hail-fighting-renegade-badass. But seriously, would you be dying to trade places with any of the following athletes?