Wearing short shorts and a loose t-shirt, I made my way down to the school gym. One of the courts was occupied by a bunch of basketball guys with their shirts off. Yes, I was slightly amused but slightly disgusted. On another court was a group of girls, covered girls. This was my squad.
The cheerleaders stretched in a wide circle near center court, gossiping and filling each other in on recent TV shows. I set my duffle bag in a pile of our bags and approached the head coach, who was motioning me to come to her.
“Yes Miss J?”
“Aussie, I’ve heard about your... ‘Medical’ condition. Don’t push yourself too hard, okay?”
“Thank you coach, I won’t. And can you please not tell the other girls about it?”
“Of course”
Smiling, the coach called out to run two laps. The girls all ran at different paces, and it was depressing to know I was pretty fast before I got cancer. But instead of pushing myself to reach my usual norm, I lingered near the back and jogged one lap, walked the other.
When I reached the mats again, one of my legs had stiffened and ached. I didn’t think much of it until we started to warm up our stunts and jumps.
Crap. I can’t do this anymore.
I asked the coaches if I could be excused, and left for the nurse’s.
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