That's me in the back on the right. |
I'm behind the girl with the red jacket with the Cairo face. |
Dishon was a track star. A record breaking athlete. I never got to see him run or high jump. If I had a time machine, it's one of the first things I'd go back to do. I'd be in the front, his biggest fan, feeling the wind against me as he flew by. He was that fast. I'd be trying to keep the sun out of my eyes as I watched him soar above the high jump bar. He could jump that high. One of the ways I tried to connect to this part of him was to have Subria be a track star, too. He was my mentor as I wrote this scene:
September, 1994
Brooklyn Technical High School was an impressive
building. When Subria had come to the
school to register during the summer, she only got to see the main office, and
a large classroom. Even then, she was
amazed that the school was as wide and long as a whole city block. On her first day of school, a team of seniors
took Subria and a group of nine other freshmen on a tour of the school. The center lobby had a fireplace, and the
school's auditorium was the second largest in New York City, after Radio City
Music Hall. She had definitely never
seen any school auditorium with two balconies before. There was a massive library, and gyms on both
the first and eighth floors, with an indoor track in the mezzanine of the
eighth floor gym.
As she walked down the hall toward her homeroom, she
marveled at the high ceilings and trophy cases.
Subria would have to check all of this out more carefully another
time. She heard that students received
detention for being late, and she definitely didn't want that to happen.
There's another part of the story that will appear here, but I want to stay focused on the track theme.
***
Track try outs finally took place at the beginning of
November. Subria stayed after school to
talk with the coach about trying out for the team. Like most junior high schools, her old school
didn’t
have a track team, so Subria kept up her times by preparing for and competing
in the Colgate Women’s Games every year. She regularly ran
the 55 meter dash, and had taken third place at the Madison Square Garden
finals in January with a time of 7.4 seconds, but she had never run 100 meters
competitively before. Subria knew she
was up to the challenge. Despite the
long practices and constant pressure, she knew her father would be disappointed
if she didn’t
try. It was his dream for her.
Subria walked into the first floor gym and looked around to
figure out where the head coach’s office was. The
basketball team was in the gym running sprints, so she didn’t want to
interrupt them. Subria walked underneath
the bleachers to the other side of the gym.
She saw the doors to the locker rooms, and then a few doors down, there
was Daniel Morgan’s
office.
Trying out for the Brooklyn Tech Engineers was more
challenging than Subria thought. She
wasn’t
really sure what to expect, but as soon as she approached Coach Morgan about
being on the team, he wanted to see if she was really as fast as she said she
was. Thankfully, none of the other team
members were there. She changed out of
her school clothes into her sweats and sneakers, and stretched in the center of
the track for about ten minutes until she saw Coach Morgan walk on to the track.
He motioned for her to go over to the starting blocks, so
she walked in that direction, putting her hair up into a ponytail as she
went. Subria kissed the cross on the
chain on her neck as she always did before running, and then positioned herself
on the blocks. She concentrated on
slowing her breathing, and listening to the sound of her own heart beat,
knowing that for every beat of her heart, her feet would need to hit the ground
four times in order to run under thirteen seconds.
Watch your
breathing, Subria.
She looked over at Coach Morgan, who was standing next to
the track at the finish line with a timer in his right hand and his left hand
in the air.
Subria looked up at him, waiting for his signal, and as soon
as she saw his arm drop, she took off.
Like most sprinters, Subria was focused on getting her right knee up as
fast as possible to be quick off the blocks.
She kept her head down for the first ten steps, with only a fraction of
a second separating each one of those steps.
One, two,
three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten.
Head up, goal
in sight, stay in your lane.
Push, push,
push.
Subria crossed the finish line, and when she finally
brought herself to a stop, she began to walk back over toward Coach Morgan to
find out what her time was.
"How did I do?" she asked, trying to catch her
breath.
"How do you think you did?" he asked.
"I think I did okay.
I know I can do better, though."
"Okay. Take a
breather. Walk back to the starting
line, and do it again."
Subria walked slowly back to the blocks and thought about
the look she always saw on her father’s face after her races.
She couldn’t
remember him ever smiling so much at any other time. His office at the laundromat was filled with
community newspaper clippings about her performance at the Colgate Women’s Games, and
he talked about her track performance whenever he had a chance. She had
to get on the team.
She ran again, and she knew that she had run a little
faster than before.
"Not bad," Coach Morgan responded, showing her
the stopwatch. It showed 12.53.
Coach Morgan tried her out for a few other events. It turned out to that she had some skill in
the long and triple jumps. Subria was
beside herself when she made the indoor girls varsity team. In addition to long and triple jumps, Coach Morgan told
her that she would compete in the 55 meter relay and the 4 x 100 meter
relay.
***
Although she had track practices every day after school for
2-3 hours, Subria excelled in her academics.
In addition to joining the National Honor Society, she ran in the Public
Schools Athletic League, the Big Apple Games, the Pilgrim Games and the Jim
McKay Games at the Armory Track and Field Center in Manhattan, and easily made
the outdoor track team in March. She was
even invited to participate in the 101st Penn Relay Carnival at the
end of April - the week after her birthday.
Renee wasn't able to come because she didn't want to close the
store. But the night before Steven drove Subria down
to Philadelphia, he told her that she could invite Gina and Kenya to spend the
night with her the night before they left.
"Subria," Gina asked just before they fell
asleep, "can you tell me why sprinters don't run full out to the end? It's almost like they slow down at the end
sometimes. I hate when they do
that! It seems like they'd make better
times if they ran as fast as they could until they reached the finish
line."
"I used to hate that too before I started running
track," Subria said, "but that only happens in quarter finals and
stuff like that when people are just trying to qualify for the finals. It reserves your energy and reduces your
chance of injury. It’s also
psychological for everyone else, because then the other runners don’t really know
how fast you can run."
"I guess that makes sense," Gina said. "So,
are you ready?"
"Ready as I'll ever be," Subria said,
sighing.
In order to prepare for the relay, Subria and her teammates
warmed up by stretching and running an easy mile. Seeing all the other sprinters there made
Subria nervous, but not enough to impact her performance. As always, Subria was the anchor. When she initially got on the blocks, she
envisioned the race, and pictured herself running faster than her
competitors. An essential part of her
pre-relay mental prep work was imagining her team winning the race. Once she heard her teammate Vanessa yell "stick,"
she reached back for the baton, and pushed to the end. At the last possible moment, she dipped her
stride to get her head and chest across the finish line. Subria and her team won the first place
8" bronze plaque, and gold medals.
Steven was beside
himself with excitement for Subria's success.
He went hoarse cheering for her, and he ran out on
to the field after her team won the final race.
He embraced her so tightly that it was hard for Subria to breathe. Although Subria appreciated her father’s
support of her accomplishments, she couldn’t help but wish,
sometimes, that he would pay as much attention to her off the field as he did
when she was sprinting.
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