In 7^th grade, maybe eighth grade, my best friend and I decided to go out for track. 

I don’t know why.  Neither of us were the least bit athletic and the only thing I can imagine is that the running craze was starting in the US.  So, there we were: two extremely skinny girls standing in the hot North Carolina sun waiting for Mrs. Anders to start track practice.  Within minutes we learned that showing up was all it took to be on the team. 

With no further ado, she set us to running laps.  This was late August in coastal Carolina.  It wasn’t just hot, it was need-to-grow-gills-to-breathe hot and humid.  Miserable.  And this was in the days when it was believed that drinking water while exercising was a Bad Thing.  A Very Bad Thing.

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