Office Heros April 30, 2007

Mr. Jackson is down on one knee, silver stopwatch in hand. He’s smiling and calling out times as runners cross the orange cones at the finish line. Our entire fifth-grade class is bumping up against each other as we scurry around the last curve of the mile run. Pumping arms and legs are letting fly a sea of spastic elbows and knees in the elementary school version of “Chariots of Fire” meets “Jaws.” I’m convinced that someone is going to lose an eye.

As I get closer to the end, Mr. Jackson’s bushy-brown-70’s-beard begins to look like a beehive. His green tracksuit with double-wide white piping seems blurry. It crosses my mind that I might be delirious from exhaustion. This is what champions go through I tell myself. At the finish line, I hear his voice and excitement: “This is it, Chris,” I listen to him bellow. “You’ve made it.” He sounds like Grizzly Adams. I cross the finish line knowing that I’ve won my first Presidential Physical Fitness Award. Later, at the ceremony, feeling heroic, I wonder how Jimmy Carter had time to sign all of these certificates.

Enjoy and be fruitful!  chiefbanana@fruitguys.com