Sports Day

I don’t know about you, but I hated sports day. All that forced fun and over excitement just didn’t suit my shy nature. Even less so because my mum wasn’t always able to come along due to work.

If I, the smallest in the class, was going to compete against 30 other children, or tie my leg to a friend’s and hobble to the finish line without falling over (we called it a three-legged race), I wanted my mum, my cheerleader, to be clapping and shouting from the side lines.

When I think of sports day, one particular year comes into mind when I was very young. Like with all children’s sporting events, there was an egg and spoon race. Rather than leave the concept untouched,  the teachers decided to add an element in which you had to put on oversized clothes as you made your way around the track, all the while trying not to drop your egg. This was all very well and good until I reached the welly boot which I had to put on over my trainer – daft really. Well, it just didn’t go well at all, and needless to say, it didn’t go well for my egg either. I found myself stuck in the middle of a field, immobilised by a giant welly boot on my foot, until one of the teaching assistants came and picked me up so I could shake the damned thing off! I don’t remember if Mum came to that Sports Day, but I’m sure to have told her all about my public embarrassment at home!

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Today I started something that is really important to me towards my future, far more important than taking part in an egg and spoon race. Thankfully there was no public embarrassment.

Grief sometimes feel like being your own cheerleader doesn’t it?  Your team got smaller so you have to cheer a bit louder. Your person doesn’t phone you to say good luck, or how did it go? They don’t see you trying your damned hardest every single day without them.

And it’s on days like today, happy days, the days that I am most proud of myself that Mum’s silence is the loudest. And it’s on days like today, happy days, the days that I am most proud of myself that I feel like I’m at Sports Day again. I’m running towards a finish line I simply can’t see, crowds and crowds of people clapping for their children, no one is cheering for me.

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If you feel as though you can relate to this post, I would just like to let you know that I am so proud of you for never giving up. I actually wrote this back in January while I was feeling particularly vulnerable after a really big day. No matter how difficult grief is, I do still believe that my mum and your loved one are always looking over and cheering us on from the side lines even though we might not be able to hear them anymore.

So in retrospect, let’s change that last line:

I’m running towards a finish line I simply can’t see, crowds and crowds of people clapping for their children, and I know my mum is still cheering for me. 

Be kind to yourself,

Katie x

12 thoughts on “Sports Day

  1. I never did competition sports, the only sports I did do was inline skating (on my own or with a friend), hiking ad biking. These twoo last ones I still do. Neighter do I follow sports on television or in newspapers…. Probably I’m the big exeption under men 😉

  2. 💜 I AM The Opposite; far too big and athletic and always embarrassed with the ease of sporting success while watching others struggle…often I Share this musing with friends; a little, fat girl sprinting a hundred metres impresses Me More than Usain Bolt…ergo; it’s Effort rather than Results MeTHINKS!!!

    …💛💚💙…

    1. I’m the one that never got picked, but that a few years ago when someone fired a shot in the dark near where I was, suddenly I was as good as the Bolt! 🏃‍♀️ Man o’ man, it’s only when I thought my life was in real danger (which by the way it was), that I found I could go that fast! 🚀

  3. 💜 There ARE Some Groups of Parents who Reward Kids for Their Efforts and Endeavours Regardless of Results; the “sport” of Rugby Union is a Perfect Example, a Game for ALL Shapes and Sizes…especially the small, niggling scrum halves; just like mosquitoes getting under the bigger players skin

    …💛💚💙…

  4. I was always one of the last, very rarely NOT the last, to get picked when teams were chosen for any sport endeavor.
    So I’m in your Cheering Section, Katie! 🤠 Praying daily for you and Evee. c.a.

  5. Lots of love and a big hug Katie 💖🤗

    Life is a hurdle race. We cross one and before we catch our breath the next one is on top of us.

    Such a sweet coincidence that my beautiful wife can in a dream at night and she was happy and smiling 😊💖🤗

  6. I endured sports day, I didn’t look for anyone clapping or cheering, but recall that it was Dad who was there and taking part in the parents race. 🥇

  7. I loved our sports days … not because I was particularly good at it, but because it was an opportunity to have a great time with my friends. I remember how we had hamburgers and ice-cream and just laughed all day.
    I was in a hostel and too far from home for my parents to attend my sport activities, so while they weren’t there, I knew they always rooted for me (even if I was close to the back of the pack 😉).
    Believe your mum is still cheering you on – although she’s not there in person, she’s always in your heart 💌.

  8. Grieving always feels like the compression forms walls, and the only way to permeate the walls and breathe fully is to share with others who can relate because they have also felt the walls closing. Thanks for this.

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