The Race

By way of training 

I had run the basketball court for three days,

Twenty minutes per day.

When you’re eleven it seems adequate.

Cunningham Junior High School was new.

That day’s school meet was to pick

Boys who would run in the big race.

No races had been held citywide before.

Forty of us bunched up on the baseball field.

Mr. Schultz, the gym teacher, told us the route.

We would not encounter traffic lights,

And he and Mrs Schultz would handle street crossing .

At 1 PM the green flag signaled the start.

Most runners tried to avoid being crushed

By the guys dead set on getting up front.

I joined the “dead set” boys.

We were to run three miles,

Though none of us knew what that meant.

What kind of pacing is necessary

To be alive and in contention at the end?

There were twelve of us in the front pack

As we crossed Stillman Street,

Heading for J,

My nerves were pushing me too fast.

Half a mile into the run,

Ten of us had established a survival pace,

And  were eight yards ahead

Of the pack.

In another half a mile,

With Mrs. Schultz directing us and traffic,

We turned onto tree-lined Erasmus Place.

Six of us were moving away from the others. 

Ernie, the lead runner, was pushing the pace

And all of us had gotten past initial nerves,

And were sweating freely.

Nobody had thought to bring water.

Half way into mile two,

With Monty up front and Ernie fading,

We four crowded toward the sidewalk,

As Wellpar Avenue was only half-closed to cars.

Monty, Alex, Donnie and I 

Held together until Maple Street.

Alex made a move and got

Space from Donnie and Monty.

Into the last mile, and I’m,

Thinking I should have trained harder.

Ernie pushed to the front again,

But he seemed exhausted.

I wondered if any of the girls

Would be in the school yard as we finished.

Paula Malt. There’s a good looking chick,

And even smaller than me.

Last block. Alex and Jerry,

Big Alex and little Jerry.

Funny, I never told Mom about the race.

It’s like I wanted to keep it a secret. Hmmm?

We’re both beat and neither of us is going away.

Just a few guys in the yard, small audience.

Hundred yards. Jeeze, Alex is strong.

Yeah, so what! I’m here and finishing ...