I was in the fifth grade, and as is the case with most fifth graders, I had very few responsibilities eating up my free time.  So after school, I tagged along with my dad to track practice.  I knew that my dad was a runner, and I knew that he coached the 7th and 8th graders, but that was about the extent of my awareness of track and field.  I quickly learned that track season in Ohio begins at a time of year when the best adjective to describe the great outdoors is “dreary,” and that this would not be used as an excuse to stay inside.  The evenings were, more often…