Nadia
My friends and I all decided to try out for the track team this spring. We used to dance ballet together when we were 4. I was always a bit more “spherical” than them but everyone said I would thin out as I grew. I never did.
I was so excited for tryouts until I realized I wouldn’t be with my friends at all. They all ran like long legged gazelles around the track, but not me. At tryouts I lagged behind and didn’t make the cut for any running events.
I sat on a nearby bench watching my friends get selected for event after event, until a coach saw my size and said I’d be a great thrower. A thrower?!
“You’d be great at shotput and discus.” She told me. I’d stand in the circle, spin and throw. That meant I didn’t get cut from the track team… great…but I still wouldn’t get to be with my friends.
My friends wear cute tops that show their flat bellies. But my uniform is a too tight wrestling leotard and every time I throw I get a wedgie. I don’t mind the wedgie since no one really watches the throwers anyways. There’s not much cheering or excitement at all in this event. You throw the thing, it makes a thud on the ground, and it’s covered in mud and grass stains when you go get it.
The day of our first track meet I felt regret for trying out for the team at all. I watched my graceful group of friends do amazing in their skinny girl races but I felt lower than ever.
My turn. I stepped into the circle and put all my anger into throwing that stupid disc. Wind up, left foot stays….spin…1, 2, “THROW!” I end with my graceful ballerina spin to stay in bounds. My discus lands with a THUD. And guess what? It somehow landed farther than the best 8th grader’s!
Everyone cheered, even my running friends who ended up coming over to watch my event. So now i’m a thrower, and one of the best. I started making new friends who also get wedgies from their uniforms and I even feel proud of the smell when the grass mashes apart after my discus or shotput thuds into the ground.
Now when I spin, I’m flying, my powerful spherical legs are my secret weapon. I found my rhythm and I found my strength in an unexpected place.
