A Warning

Tuesday's workout: Speedwork at the Union High School Track

1 mile warm up, 8x800, 1 mile cool down. 8 miles total with recoveries.

Early on in the summer, my running partner and I decided that we wanted to start doing some speed work. The closest track to us was the Union Senior High School track so I did my due diligence and called the athletic department to make sure that it was open to the public. The nice lady in the athletic office confirmed that, indeed, it was. So we made our way out there one Tuesday in late May, and it's pretty much been a Tuesday ritual all summer long.

Well, summer is winding to a close (though the mercury disagrees), and with the end of summer comes football practice. I thought this might be an issue down the line, but I figured we would deal with it when the time came. Oh, boy, did we deal with it. We were only about a quarter of the way through our work out when the football players (junior high kids, mind you) began to amble there way across the lanes of the track to the infield. And when I say "amble" I do mean slowly. No regard for the two runners that are in lanes one and two 100 meters away...50 meters away...10 meters away...GET OUT OF THE WAY! But no, we didn't yell, we politely moved around them and kept going 'round.

And it wasn't just one team. No, no, no. It was three junior high teams; each with at least 25 players on the squad. I'm not too sure how many players a junior high roster carries these days. But the players were the least of our problems.

With junior high athletes come parents. And evidently with parents come the younger siblings. Lots and lots of younger siblings. Younger siblings who have nothing better to do than hang around on the track that surrounds big brother's football practice. Hey, and since your kid's going to be hanging around the track, why not bring his bicycle? That'll keep him busy and out of your hair. As long as he's out of your hair, what does it matter? You need a break from being a parent. I understand. Don't pay any attention to him whizzing in and out of each lane with no regard for the actual adults on the track who are using it for its express purpose. What's that you say, random inconsiderate parent? You're going to allow your ten year old son to drive a motoscooter around the track? Sure! Do it! I have no regard for my safety either. A moto-freaking scooter! Before I saw the scooter, I heard it, and I said, "Is there something motorized on this track right now coming up behind us? Why yes! Yes there is! It's a 10 year old riding a moto-scooter where normal people run."

But it wasn't all moving parts on the track. No, there had to be something else. The parents had to find as many ways as they could to not care about anything but themselves and their snotty little children. After a while, there was a child in lane 5. Laying there. Playing with his Nintendo DS. Sprawled out. Not a care in the world. Why should he have? He wasn't going to get stepped on. He knew that the only people in that facility who were inconsiderate enough to step on a child were his parents. And, clearly, they were nowhere near him. Play on, little child. Play on.

But don't get the wrong picture. It wasn't just the bicycles, the Nintendo, and the motor scooter. There were also children without any apparatuses to speak of. One little boy wandered crying because his mom wouldn't let him ride the other boy's motor scooter. Others stood in the lanes nonchalantly, as though they were challenging us to run over them. And, what did I hear from the parents? Amidst all of the anarchy (and it was anarchy), did I once hear any of the parents tell there children to be considerate of the runners? Nope. Did they ever attempt to rein it in just a bit? Nah. Apologize even a little for us having to weave in and out of their football funhouse? Nuh-uh. Bear in mind, that I did check with the athletic department, and we have every right to be on this field as well.

Kids are going to be kids. I can't blame them for wanting to let loose on that track. But, parents. Geez. And I'm not saying that all parents are that way, but, unfortunately, that was a pretty good sample size of people. So a word to parents. And if you weren't at the track on Tuesday, substitute the word "world" for "track" in the following statement. There were more people on that track on Tuesday than you and your kid. I know that you put your child before anyone else and all that nonsense, but I definitely do not exist for your child or to make sure that it's happy. I would like to go about my business and never know that it's there. And, honestly, that's my right as a non-parent. You had every right to be a parent and that's awesome. You exercised that right. I'm glad this isn't China. But with that right comes the responsibility to make sure it STAYS OUT OF MY WAY!!! I'm not the one who has to deal with it. You are.

Disclaimer: the statement above was theoretically directed toward complete strangers. Not friends and family with children. Your kids are angels.

Anyway, so I guess we finished the workout, and I suppose it was pretty good. 8x800 is no walk in the park. But it wasn't made any easier by those around us. Needless to say, we are going to make different arrangements for speedwork during football season. The little terrorists have won.