Trail Brothers

     Their footsteps thundered behind me.  I was a casual slow runner and had the chance to catch a few miles after work.  It was their practice time--and their foot falls in simultaneous rhythmic cadence sounded like a herd of gazelle as they ran from the school past our house.  Their brotherly debates and prodding pierced through the thunderous running. They cantered past me in a hail of laughter, "Hey Mrs. M...."-- Always pushing each other on and inspiring the best while keeping each other humble. I wasn't sure exactly how they did it--but it worked.  They were trail brothers and they had run thousands of miles together.  Any time I caught a glimpse it filled my heart with joy.  My son had found something rare and precious--a brotherhood few stumble upon forged by friendship, not blood. 

     Some of them had run together since sixth grade.  However, their group coalesced in the mid fall of 2017 after my son Logan, or "Logdawg" as he became known--won a key JV race which bumped him up to this Varsity group.  They proved themselves over and over, becoming one of the winningest teams in the school's history.  For some time my son was the 6th or even the 7th man--but always there--together with his trail brothers and ready to take up the team banner when they needed him. 

     I saw them during spaghetti dinners, giggling and busting each other's chops.  Late night camping trips in the woods.  Runs to Little Bow Pond, jumping in to cool off before the ice had barely melted, months before anyone else would dare to go ankle high. Hill repeats at the Meadows and the famed "Mama Mo" hill, fartleks  that elicited snickering from Logan's dad, to the disgust of the serious runner--who diligently recorded his summer miles, turned down brownies when his biological brothers inhaled whole pans--because he had a race the next day. Mile after mile I watched and cheered from afar.  Year after year I spent at the finish line, holding the vomit bags, cheering all their names at the top of my lungs, taking pictures and texting photos of Logan's trail brothers to the other moms.

     There were overnight adventures out of state to New Englands and Regionals.  There were tents to be hoisted, gear to be packed, sweat wobbed socks to be accounted for,  safety pins to be rationed, victories to be celebrated, and elusive defeats to be turned to inspiration to come back stronger, more focused, and more determined.  There were mom texts about catching rides and sign up sheets and borrowing forgotten jerseys on occasion.  Trips to Runner's Ally for team night, then more trips two months later because the miles and miles just kept coming and the trail brothers needed fresh gear.  It was wonderful, and tiring, and amazing and emotional.  It was magical.    

     Covid hit and the dreams for their senior year dramatically shifted.  Visions of possibly making it to New Englands and even Nationals evaporated as our nation collectively hunkered down and assumed survivial mode.  We were fortunate to even have a season.  However, this band of brothers rallied and by the end of their season they placed eighth in the nation. These trail brothers were served a challenge and they rose to the occasion, exceeding the expectations of a community that rallied with a parade of every vehicle with a siren they could muster.

     One by one their birthdays rolled around and these trail brothers I had watched grow up became an adult--now ready to graduate in a week.  Today, they participated in their final home events and they took their place in the 4x400 relay--trail brothers--back to back-- rounding the track together yet separate just  one last time.  

     Watching these trail brothers grow together has been one of the most rewarding highlights of motherhood.  Each team mate is a dear friend to my son, but to me they are precious because collectively they grew together into manhood and pushed my son to be his best.  They will go their separate ways--some to college--some to business--some to the Navy.  I have no doubt the bonds they formed as trail brothers will follow them the rest of their lives.

     Thank you trail brothers for taking such good care of my son.  I will always cheer for you. Run well.  Your race has just begun.