Yesterday was my first track meet of the season.
About two days before the meet I asked my coach what event I would be doing. He wasn't even sure what I'd be doing considering I was injured and hadn't been at practice for a whole week. But he asked me to run in the 4x400.
Of course I accepted and checked out the times.
On the schedule, it said that the races would begin at 9:00 am.
I thought "Oh, 9 AM, I'll just go early, warm up, and in no time I'll be racing."
Well I was wrong. Unfortunately, the races started at 9:00 AM, but didn't end until 6 PM.
And guess what race was the very last one? That's right. The 4x400.
So I ended up waking up at 6:00 AM on a Saturday morning, rushed through breakfast, quickly put all my stuff together, rushed to the meet and waited for 9 hours to finally race. Starting from the time I woke up to the time I got home (about 5:30), that's 11 hours of my day wasted.
We started out in last place but quickly caught back up in the relay. I was incredibly happy about that but not about the fact that I stayed at that place for over 9 hours because silly me thought the race would start soon.
Needless to say, I came home exhausted, frustrated, and hungry.
The only highlight of my day was the rush of adrenaline I got from running the 4x400 and the fact that we did good at it.