A tempo day, back at Walpole high school. At around six pm kids from young teens to late single digits are practicing football on a turf field. Parents dot the fence encasing the track. Showing up twenty-five minutes earlier the warm-up is finished.
Time to run, as legs gather momentum towards the start line for running, round and round we go. As our pace is gathered we relax into a soft place. It is here that we know, as the boys clash against each other and the noise makes a pounding sound, that outsides callings are somehow quenched by effort. That it is through trying, mustering every carb cache we have that we find freedom.
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