One month later

I can’t recall a month in my life that could possibly be happier than the one I just lived. Robby and I have been nearly inseparable for a month now, and I’ve loved every minute of it.

We’ve been together 11 times in the past 11 days. We see each other at least once a day, no matter what day it is. We do something different everyday, too, and we never have a plan. He comes over or I go over to his house and we just do whatever. It’s as simple as that. There is no prep time to take into account. We’ve watched a million movies, played a million games and had a million conversations. Last night, we walked my dogs and visited my grandparents before he watched me dominate in Guitar Hero in our “rumpus room.”

I’m always thinking about him and always get ideas for things to do for him. I got a great idea today while we were in Target after we went to the movies to see The Crazies (it was okay…just a little gory, but I had Robby there to protect me), but couldn’t tell him what it was. When he asked to know, I simply shook my head and said “you’ll find out soon enough!” He also has something he’s saving for today to celebrate one happy month together, and I cannot wait to see what’s in store!

We have so many plans. This week, we’re going four-wheeling with his dad (who is awesome) and in the very near future we’re going to go on camping trips with both his family and then mine. Summer will be great as long as he can come over everyday. We’ll spend the first month of vacation looking forward to those Yankees games in Cleveland we’re going to in late July with his dad, my dad and possibly one of my brothers.

Which reminds me of another thing. Our school’s baseball teams haven’t had a single game yet, but I’ve already seen Robby play baseball twice. The other day after track practice, I headed over to the baseball field and watched him play for an hour without him knowing. I saw his dad too, but neither of them knew I was there. When I went into the JV dugout to say goodbye to him, the look on his face was one I’ll never forget. When he told his dad later that I had been there, his reply was: “why didn’t she come over and see me?!?!?” That’s when I knew, once again, that I’ve got it good.

Right now I’m listening to my playlist of songs that remind me of him. I just can’t get enough. I’m pretty sure he fell asleep, because he was supposed to call me at one o’clock, but that’s okay. We have a whole day stretching out ahead of us once I get my research paper done today. I have no doubt in my mind that we’ll see each other. I love that.

This shows how observant I am

I honestly am not a very observant person. I don’t recognize details (unless they’re important to me), and I almost never notice anything. Maybe this explains why I made a blunder today.

We had our first “real” Track meet of the 2009 season today. I got up in the morning with almost everything ready, but I needed to grab my cross-country hoodie from the dryer. I wrote a note to myself and stuck it onto my mirror so I would remember to grab said hoodie from the dryer.

Okay, so I remembered just fine without the sticky note, and I went downstairs and pulled my hoodie from the dryer. I put it on over what I was wearing and went along my merry way. I got to school, wore the hoodie for a little while, then put it in my locker before heading off to Health.

For our Track meet, I put on my uniform, my sweats and the hoodie. The opposing team we were to run against arrived just as I was stretching my hamstrings on the steeple. I figured they would see my name on the back of my hoodie and try to swallow their fear. You see, most teams see me as a threat. I fought back a laugh as I pictured the reactions upon seeing my name. Then, I went along with the meet.

The 4X8 went rather well, if I do say so myself. I got a rather decent split time (2:33), and got our team the lead we needed. We won that one.

It was after the 1500 and before the 3000 that I got a clue to my blunder. The 200m races were going on, and all of the people on the infield were to be crouching down so the officials could see one another from across the way. I didn’t think I had to crouch down – I thought I was out of the way. The officials yelled out to me, and then yelled “Hey, JEEVES!” and then when that didn’t work, “GOWANDA!” and, believe me, I crouched. The thing is, I didn’t catch the “JEEVES!” comment at the time.

After the 4X4, I pulled my hoodie back over my head. Suddenly I noticed that there was a rip near a hood, and it made me really sad. The hoodie had taken me through years of running seasons, and there it was, falling apart. I had also noticed earlier that it seemed more stretched out than I remembered, but I figured I must have lost a little weight. (Haha…)

My friend dropped me off at the baseball field to join my parents, and I walked up to them and said: “after years of hanging in there, this hoodie is finally falling apart.” Then my dad sort of looked at me funny and said: “you do know that you’ve been wearing your brother’s cross-country hoodie this whole time, right?”

Suddenly, it hit me. Everything made sense.

His hoodie says “Jeeves” on the back, and I realized that that was what the official had yelled at me earlier. It was obviously stretched out because he’s a little bit bigger than I am, and lastly, I did remember that his hoodie had sort of been tearing near the neckline. I blushed, said: “that explains a lot!” and then flushed with more embarrassment because of my cocky thoughts about how my opponents must have been “swallowing their fear.” What a joke!

If I had taken one quick glance at the name on the back of the hoodie, I could have saved myself from this little “incident.” I bet my friends were all wondering why I was wearing my brother’s hoodie, but they never said a word. I guess this just goes to show how observant I really am.

Reunited

My father (the driver) stops the car at the intersection. In the back, I open the left-side door and hop out of the car before he starts driving again. “See you later!” I call. I run to the side of the road, and then enter the sacred grounds. The beautiful track is steaming in the sunlight; so warm and inviting. I run through the path between the bleachers and the fence to the track and note how many of the steeples are lowered to my height. Only one. Dammit! I shrug off my disappointment and step onto the brilliant black track.

I do not even know what my plan is. Just keep running and try not to run over the walkers? Sounds good to me. I walk over to the starting line and step forward as if a Track & Field official had just blown the whistle. In my head, an imaginary gun goes off, and my legs start moving. I round the curve and face my one and only obstacle: the steeple that is low enough for me to jump over. I count out my steps and successfully get over the steeple. Now, I look into the sun and run. Lap after lap, steeple after steeple, I finish my first four laps and decide to take a short break.

I stretch on one of the higher steeples and realize how much I miss having track practice everyday. Yes, it is a very stressful and nerve-wracking sport, but I love it so much. It keeps me in shape, and I enjoy trying to beat records that others have set, and of course, my own. I stretch my calves and my hamstrings as the walkers around me continue their workouts. Am I ready to go again? Oh yeah! Four more laps, then a break – that is my master plan. Three sets of four laps – and that will total three miles. All of those miles taking place on the lovely track.

Lap after lap, steeple after steeple, sweat droplet after sweat droplet. I finish my second set of four laps, and really begin feeling the heat. My feet are boiling from running on the hot, black track, and the sweat is pouring off of me. Stretch a little, and then do it again, one more time!

Lap after lap, steeple after steeple, sweat droplet after sweat droplet, foot pain after foot pain. I finish my third and last set of four laps. I feel great and secure knowing that I am still in shape. I practice jumping over the lone steeple and begin to cool off. One more lap, and I can call it a day. My last lap is now finished, and I walk on the path that separates the fence from the bleachers and feel complete. Goodbye, my beautiful track! And I slowly break into a jog and let my legs take me wherever they please.