Walking the Track

Today’s Flyover People column as seen in The Emporia Gazette:

WALKING THE TRACK

When I joined the fitness room at the Emporia Recreation Center about three months ago, I fell in love with the walking/jogging track that circles the top of the gymnasium. I walk, I jog, I try to cover two to four miles a day.

In the late ‘80s, I went through a brief racquetball phase and played in the building, but I had only been inside a few times since then. Now I’ve come to see the rec center, and its countless services, for what it is – a real community treasure.

The fitness room was once storage area, but it’s a pleasant space to work out. Barb Roark and the staff bring a positive energy to the place.

I enjoy the walking track when I’m the only one on it, and the only one in the entire gym. Alone, I can hear each footstep that I take. I walk in peaceful meditation, lap after lap after lap for an hour or so. Fifteen laps equal a mile.

Some friends think I’m an odd duck because I embrace the monotony, the walking to nowhere, the circling, the institutional feel that comes from the beige walls and the bars on the railing.

I do value that quiet time, but on the other hand I equally enjoy when there’s activity on the court below.

And that’s the way the gym is most of the time: busy. The gym schedule includes hours for everyone, toddlers to adults. Also, soccer, volleyball and basketball leagues have their turns on the floor.

If I do my laps on weekday mornings, there’s an invasion of little people and their parents and/or day care providers. Toys and balls are dumped on the floor and the children play or simply run around on the court.

These pre-school kids come equipped with a lot of energy and they’re not afraid to use it. Every once in a while a 3-year-old will shriek so loudly that it irreparably scars my brain. Let’s just say the acoustics in the gym are not that good. And when you give 20 13-year-old girls each a basketball to bounce, you have thunder.

Often when I’m walking, middle school, high school or college kids are there to shoot hoops or play pick-up games of basketball. It’s mostly boys, but some girls, too.

Some play just for fun while others seem more dedicated to the sport. One Sunday afternoon I watched a boy, who looked to be about 17, shoot nothing but free throws for over an hour. A man, possibly his grandfather, acted as mentor, giving quiet advice as he returned the ball to the boy after each shot.

Another Sunday afternoon, a man brought in his daughters who I guessed to be 8 and 10. They did jump shots by default; it took the launching of their entire bodies to get the ball up to the basket. But they were players. They knew the game and handled the ball well.

The high school boys feel at home here. There are some for whom basketball is their first language. One will dribble through a crowd with ease; it’s a dance, really, swerving around the defense, passing the ball behind his back. I love to watch a player charge down the court and then leap into the air, hanging there for the shot.

There’s pure athleticism in their jump shots and lay-ups. I notice these fluid movements because I personally don’t have that kind of inherent grace. If these guys are poetry in motion, they’d be a sonnet. Me, I’d be more of a limerick.

When the older boys play, they’ll often run the full length of the gym, and yet they don’t push everyone else off the floor. They’ll stick to the center of the court so others can shoot baskets on the four side goals.

It’s been fascinating to watch these kids of different ages and ethnic backgrounds govern themselves. Even though as many as five groups are using the court at one time, there’s a flow of bodies and each one accommodates the other. It’s really a nice sense of cooperation without the aid, or interference, of adults.

The rec center is a well-used facility. It’s a great resource, one that promotes health and fitness and fun, basketball, and – even a little bit of poetry, if you’re looking for it.

Copyright 2011 ~ Cheryl Unruh