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Lisa Pérez was an excellent athletic coach.
Despite her career having got off to a late start, Lisa had more than made up for it. As one of the first women to coach in West Texas on the university level, and one of the first Hispanic coaches, she knew personally the pioneers who preceded her at the big universities. If she was a little older than average, so what? She had built a solid program from nothing, and a big part of the reason (aside from a little help from Title IX), was that she took good care of her athletes.
Some of them even called her "Mom," and not always in jest, though joking around was one reason they liked her. After all, how could you not like someone who bragged, with reason, that she was so massively buff she could eat Ding-Dongs and not gain weight?
So when Cheryl Ford wanted to talk, Lisa was happy to listen. Cheryl was her big star this year, and her best hope to qualify for the Olympics in the summer. If she won a medal, even running for her native country of Barbados, that would be a terrific shot in the arm for local recruiting, fund raising, and the school's athletic program in general. Lisa had studied the qualification process and the legalities, and a good part of her time with Cheryl lately had been spent over just such matters. Cheryl wanted it as badly as she did.
Lisa's warm, round face lit up when Cheryl came in and sat down.
"How's that leg today, Cher?" she asked.
"Better, thanks. I'm taking it easy, and the trainer worked on it yesterday and today. Tomorrow I'll do a light workout and I think it'll be totally OK in a couple more days."
"Excellent. Just what I want to hear. Is that what's on your mind?"
"No, this is about something else. I got an odd problem, and maybe you could give me some advice. Actually, I got a friend with an odd problem."
"Sure, Cher. If I can help, I will. Tell me about it."
Cheryl talked about "Ana," her friend and running companion on the track, about her friend's compact size and her quick, light stride, and how "Ana" would just tag along with her, copying Cheryl’s pace so as not to slow her down. She told her about "Ana" running the same fifteen miles at a speed that had nearly lamed and winded Cheryl, but that left "Ana" barely breathing hard. She described how she had seen "Ana" running the track alone late one evening, jumping hurdles, which came up to her shoulders, like they weren't there.
Cheryl added, unnecessarily, "I mean, if she ran me into the ground, but didn't want to slow me up, just how fast can she run, anyway? I've never known anybody that could do that!"
Lisa understood that Cheryl was a good judge of such matters. Way down deep, she began to feel a tinge of excitement.
"So what's the problem?"
"See, she's not a student. But I'm almost sure that if she was, and if she went to the trials, she'd qualify. She might win something. Wouldn't that be cool?"
"Yes, it would. It would be very cool."
Lisa was thinking how it would feel to have two Olympic medalists from the same tiny program. One would be great, but two would put them on the map.
"Tell me about this Ana. Is she a high school student or what?"
"No, she's not. I don't know how old she is, but she doesn't seem much older than me. She's not a student here. She just lives here for now. I don't know where she comes from."
Cheryl was thinking she'd better not mention that "Ana" was really a Canadian in the country illegally and in disguise to boot.
"Why don't you talk to her?" said Lisa. "Ask her if she'd be interested in running competitively. You could point out that oftentimes it's a great career move, whatever her career might end up being. If she is interested, tell her a simple tryout to qualify for the team could earn her a scholarship. She could enroll this summer and make the Olympic trials, perhaps. You think she might go for that?"
"I don't know. She might. She’s kind of a funny person—plenty nice, though, not a nut. I'll ask her next time I see her and see what she says. Maybe I'll bring her by to talk to you."
"Terrific, Cheryl! Your friend obviously has a lot of ability—shame to let it go to waste. I hope we get to find out just how much ability she has."
Cheryl stood up.
"And in the meantime, take it easy on that leg, will you, please? Right now your ability is the main thing."
"I will," Cheryl promised. "Don't need to worry about me. Long as I got that trainer, I'm gonna be fine."
