A lot of high-school memories revolve around sports.
For better or worse, I am in that camp of former jocks. I ran track and cross country for all three of my years in high school. Not particularly well, but enough to somehow pull off varsity letters each year.
One of the most vivid memories I have is one of the most embarrassing. I’m really digging into the depths of my pathos here, so please hold off laughing until I’m out of the room.
Do you remember “Flashdance?” The only thing cooler than Jennifer Beals were those leg warmers she wore. And as a teeny bopper with a giant, Jennifer Beals-like perm, I had to have a pair myself. To really stand out, I opted to actually wear the things at a cross country meet.
My plan was to wear them out to the warm-up area, prance around a bit (hello there, boys), then shed them before the race started.
Only I got there late, and had just enough time to get to the starting line before the gun went off. The leg warmers would have to stay on.
Only they did not stay on.
About 100 yards into the 3.1-mile race, I could feel them start to slide. I yanked them up for all I was worth, trying to pass other runners. I’m not sure what they thought, watching this creature hoisting her legwear as she lumbered by, but I doubt it had much to do with Jennifer Beals.
By about the first mile, I realized I was in big trouble. Really big trouble. I had pulled them up so many times they were now completely stretched out. There was somebody I desperately needed to pass. So I let go of the things and sprinted past my competitor. My leg wear slid down my legs and became ankle wear.
We were in the hottest part of the race, now, and I couldn’t just stop to yank them off. So, I kept running. We were flying down a steep hill, when I felt the things start to slide over my shoes. Oh no!
By the bottom of the hill, my leg warmers had morphed into giant, muddy, 5-foot-long extensions of my feet. I was too terrified to stop and let my teammates down, so I just kept running and cried. My coach, recognizable by the smoke coming out of his ears, finally grabbed me, dumped me on the ground and yanked the horrible things off. Having lost valuable seconds, I ran like my shorts were on fire.
Never again did I attempt to channel Jennifer Beals.
While my story is pretty awful, I am betting there are some truly wonderful memories you former high school athletes would like to share.
Well, we’d like to hear them.
In our Fall Sports Section this year, we are hoping to highlight our readers’ memories, in addition to the regular lineups of team and player previews. We’d like you to share your stories with us, in addition to any photos you have of yourself playing high-school sports.
Don’t hesitate to send them to our Sports Reporter Erick Walker at ewalker@kentreporter.com, or mail them to us at 19426 68th Ave. S. If you have questions, be sure to call Erick at 253-872-6600, ext. 5056.
We’re asking folks to get their stories and pictures to us by Aug. 1.
Please, you’ve got to have something better than a leg-warmer horror story to share!
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