The Trials and Tribulations of Track
Passions. There’s more behind that word than just a soap opera. Passions are what give depth to our existence. They give us a reason to wake up in the morning. They are our window to escape the stressful nuances of daily life. And perhaps most importantly, they are meant to be enjoyable. A passion of mine is running. Running can be an exceptionally enjoyable and rewarding activity. However, one’s passion for running can quickly degenerate once it turns into a stressful, competitive event. There is a profound distinction between track and pure running. Because of the amount of stress involved, the rigidity of the sport, and the obligations one must commit to, competitive running is far less enjoyable than just running for leisure.
Stress is a major factor in the experience of track. The tension that builds up before meets is enough to shatter the foundation by which athletes base their confidence on. The pressure to do well is, of course, at the top of the list of nail-biting conditions. To let the team down is a major blow, and can be debilitating to some. Who likes to feel like a let-down? The crowd of spectators to witness every blunder is no help, either. It’s like giving a speech, and worrying solely about how it sounds to everyone else, and not about the content or the message that is attempting to be conveyed. Furthermore, the suspense of who will come out on top is incredibly intense. Who will be the victor? Who will be the loser? This stress is negligible for pleasure running. There is no pressure, no one to watch and judge, and no suspense of what the final outcome will be.
In addition to a lack of stress, leisure running is much more fluid than the rigid structure of track. In track, there are coaches constantly barking orders. "Sprint two hundreds, a two hundred, then run a four hundred! Thirty second rests in between." There are no choices: Is today a good day for a long distance jog, or maybe it’s better suited for some indoor laps? No worries; the coach gets to decide that. The runner has much more flexibility when choosing to just run simply for pure recreation. He can decide his own time of the day to run, his own pace, and his own distance.
The flexibility constraints act in two ways. In addition to the physical constraints, there are mental restrictions. In a race, it is imperative to focus all of one’s attention to the finish line. If a racer’s mind wanders, he loses site of his goals. There must be no room for error, unlike leisure running, where the person has more freedom to meditate and relax. One of the primary features of running is that it acts as a facility to let the mind wander and ruminate. Running is an avenue by which people get lost in their surroundings. It gives them the opportunity to divulge in mind candy; to genuinely reflect on all things principal. This weighty aspect is lost in track.
The flexibility factor is further supported by the sheer number of obligations that are tied in with joining track. Meets, daily practices, and even giving up some Saturdays are all part of the package. To not fulfill the necessary commitments is to let the team down. Once someone hands in that fifty dollar deposit fee, they are also handing over a lot of their time and commitment. In the sole hobby of running, there are no obligations. There is no sweating over facing the coach the next day after missing a meet. Homework and other responsibilities can be put ahead of practice. There is so much more freedom in limiting involvement in running to just the activity, without the competitive atmosphere.
The stress, the rigidity, the obligations are nothing to look forward to. A hobby should be relaxing; free from the shackles of mindless, joyless competition. To make a sport out of a hobby is to kill the essence of enjoying what is best left as a simple diversion.