One-hundred and fifty adolescents with stuffed backpacks of all sizes and shapes travel to a place some consider a torture chamber. The rest are ecstatic because they are about to release their largest load of adrenaline of the season. As they all make their way down to the unknown event about to begin, their bodies already show symptoms of fatigue. Blue, red and orange Gatorade bottles, along with sticker clad hydro flasks are released from their hidden compartments to hydrate the already weary. A small collection of smart pupils had done online research prior to this day, and they were implementing a multitude of different methods to relax their muscles. Arms and legs were being contorted in unique positions while elsewhere there were exhausted bodies lying haphazardly in every slot of shade, as it was over a million degrees outside.  The surrounding environment did not help to improve the mood, since the sun was beating its deadly rays on already burnt souls. Their skin was coming in contact with the dry, brittle, brown grass and dirt encircled by red hot lava of crushed rubber. The somnolent vibes being put off by most were overpowered by excited newcomers that were overly hyper. These novices were quick to realize their mistake to conserve energy when they had the chance.

When the event officially begins, the participants file into bleachers that feel like flaming hot steel to exposed bare legs. Their bodies try to cool themselves by releasing beads of perspiration. They also weakly attempt to create makeshift fans out of clammy hands, but efforts are futile.  All that could be done was to wait for the warden to finish taking roll call of his prisoners, and watch as the ever worsening heat led to mirages over the circle of doom. A few brave spectators, unfortunate enough to find themselves in the fiery stands along with the participants, also observed obstacles that were strategically placed for lanky, long, and flexible appendages to overcome. They could see the turf inside the circle was charred and pitted due to constant mistreatment by spiked footwear.  This audience was about to witness a particularly harsh conditioning day for this extracurricular activity.

The curator to all the evil about to unfold thundered his commands to the members of the team. Those with the lengthiest lower extremities gracefully galloped over to the south-eastern region of the lanes where the hurdles were arranged at all too close proximity to each other. Those with shorter but swifter muscles sprinted to the end zone and those with the lung capacity of a whale took elongated strides to the adjoining neighborhood. Each group was then met by a second commander in charge with equally as menacing a presence as the head coach. The naïve participants huddled around each other, sweaty shoulder to sweaty shoulder, ready for the next set of orders.

The onlookers in the stands could see the entire spectacle about to unfold and were on the edges of their seats. This was not because of the scorching sensation on their behinds but because of the anticipation and anxiousness they felt for their fellow comrades. Competitors arranged themselves in proper form and listened for the explosive clap emanating from the coaches large hands to hit their ears. This abrupt but foreseen noise indicated it was time to push themselves to their limits. Their minds were willing their muscles to relax until the moment they could blast themselves forward to shave seconds off their personal records.  As they propelled themselves to the distant checkered flags with ever increasing speed, their arms and legs worked in unison. Burning sensations were flowing through every inch of tissue as the lactic acid was building in their blood streams. Some ill-fated performers misplaced their footing either by not obtaining enough height to clear the hurdle or by straining their legs a little too hard. This led to knees crashing and palms landing hard on the pebbly surface. Now blood meant to oxygenate the drained muscles was winning its own race down injured arms and legs. The participants struggle to maintain focus on the finish line in order to end the suffering.

However, once they passed the finish line, they were met with words bellowed by their intimidator saying his grandmother could do better. Another lap was inevitable. Circuit after circuit was endured until the trainers realized no more could be tolerated. Students were doubled over with razor sharp cramps piercing abdomens. Trash cans were encompassed by mouths agape emanating bile from dark depths within. Practice was over. All the coaches smiled as they state, “Welcome to the life of a Track and Field athlete. Rest up and see you tomorrow.”