TRACKING DOWN MEMORIES

When I was back in Fredonia helping out Mama Bore last week, I went for long walks each evening. Since she lives across the street from the high school, one stormy looking night I decided to hit up the track. I figured if all hell broke loose, shelter was close by.

The track is one of those fancy, all-weather, cushy types...and it was while I took notice of its high quality that I had a flashback to 1961. I was suddenly 11 years old and a member of the Fredonia Shamrocks, a girls track and field group that was a part of the town's summer recreation program.

Back in those days, no one had heard of spongy tracks. We had...cinders! I suppose it wouldn't have been so bad had I owned a pair of spiked running shoes that dug in and provided some traction, but such sporty footwear cost high dollars. For many of us, it was either tennis shoes (and we're not talking Air Nikes!) or, my choice, going barefoot. Yes, on cinders. I considered it a source of rugged pride (okay, maybe foolish pride) that I was tough enough to allow my feet to be chewed up by black, hot, ground-up chat.

I actually wasn't all that bad. The 200-yard shuttle relay team I was on ended up having the 3rd fastest time in the nation for 10-11 year olds that season of '61. I have the official AAU certificate to prove it. My favorite event, however, was the standing long jump. It was easier on the feet. Competitors launched into a sand pit from a slanted platform. I had pretty good technique, wrapping my toes around the edge of the board for extra push. My personal best was 8 feet, 4 inches. Why do I still remember that distance?

When summer was over, for some reason, girls didn't get to compete in any school sports. Boys only. No girls allowed. This was in spite of the fact that the Shamrocks were quite accomplished in the Junior Olympics circuit--mainly because we had an older girl on the team who always took first place in everything she entered...hurdles, long jump, dashes, whatever. You name it and she was sure to win. She was so talented that three summers later she was on the cover of Sports Illustrated and running the quarter-mile in the real Olympics in Tokyo. Her long legs were like a thoroughbred's and, of course, she wore spikes. She trained on the hometown cinders, running against a boys' 440-yard relay team, whipping them every time. Oh, how we girls loved to see that happen.

The other night while walking around the track, I could still envision her gliding effortlessly around the track, stride long and graceful. She was a running vision to behold. And I could almost feel those blasted cinders burning the soles of my feet during 50-yard practice sprints, my ponytail flying in the breeze behind me. --Ah, it doesn't really seem that long ago.