The whoo seats

I freakin' love the Penn Relays (or should I say, the Penn Relay Carnival, which, just the fact that it has that dopey name is another reason to love the Relays). Love 'em. I love the history behind the Relays, I love watching the endless parade of relays, I love the way it's run. It is just about perfect. And, yet, like the idiot I am, I just have not taken advantage of them enough.

So, you have not heard about the Penn Relays? I am shaking my head. As Nana would say, well, you don't know what's good. First of all, it's a track meet (okay, a tiny bit of "field" but, mostly just track), which is the truest and best sport. It's just such a pure sport. No judges, no questions: that person is the fastest. Period. And the best event: the 4 x 400 relay. Long enough for some strategy, short enough that it goes quick. 4 minutes of awesome. I could watch 100 4 x 400 relays and not get sick of it. And, guess what, if you go to the Relays, you might get to do just that.

Now, if you've been to a few track competitions, there's a lot of waiting around, setting up for the next race. The Penn Relays, they don't play that game. It is boom, boom, boom, a race, a race, a race. The kids are lined up, the gun goes off, cheers to the end, begin again. No breaks, no pauses, just the offical (or Bill Cosby; no, seriously, Bill Cosby loves the Relays!) hussling kids off the track when the race is over and getting the next bunch ready.

You can go on Saturday, which is the glory day. Yeah, that's the guy you saw run at the Olympics. No kidding, those are some blazing-fast times. Yeah, I didn't know high school kids could run that fast either. But I've always favored Thursday: the qualifying day. This is when the hard-core track nerds are hanging out. The stands are full of kids from other track teams, cheering each other on. It's not as crowded and the seats aren't assigned, so, if you get there early, you can sit in the whoo seats. The whoo seats? Those are the ones just after the turn in the track before the finish line. Where you can see where the race changes, when the last leg gives that final kick. And everyone around you goes, "whoo!"

One year in grad school, Krista and I took the day off to go to the Penn Relays. It was one of those perfect April days, the sky was bright blue, spring was here. We grabbed lunch at a great truck and walked over to Franklin Field and parked it in the whoo seats. And we just spent the entire day, watching race after race, hanging out, enjoying the weather, the history, the cheering. It was perfection.