The Headband (or How to get kicked out of a track meet)
We took very few pictures of Leigh actually racing in high school. We did take a few videos, but this is the only snapshot I’ve been able to find. I believe this picture is from her junior year. It’s obviously a cross-country meet. Notice the headband, which was her signature all through high school. Also, if you’ve read “Finding Strong,” you’ll know that Leigh battled eating disorders all through high school. You can see in this picture that the muscle definition that was very obvious later in her life (and in her freshman year) is simply not there, and she’s carrying more weight than an elite distance runner would normally carry.
But this post is about that headband that got me thrown out of a high school track meet. I believe it was her junior year, possibly her senior year – Leavenworth High was competing in a track meet in Kansas City along with several other schools. This was toward the end of the year, I think just prior to conference championships with regionals and state meet to follow. Leigh easily won the two-mile race, but right after she crossed the finish line, a man on the infield pulled her aside and was very obviously berating her about something. I was watching as he pointed at her headband, and I realized that was what he was fussing about. I could see that Leigh was upset, so I immediately climbed down out of the bleachers and charged across the track to the infield. Leigh was in tears as she told me that this man (who had left Leigh and was now in a conference with 3 or 4 other men, probably coaches from the other teams) was threatening to disqualify her for wearing a headband. She also said that he told her that as one of the top runners in the state, she should set a better example, and that she would not be allowed to wear a headband in the state meet.
I probably could have handled this a better way, but me and tact were total strangers that day. I charged into the coaches’ gaggle and asked the offender who the hell he thought he was, accosting runners from opposing teams. He said he was the athletic director for the host school and asked me who the hell I was and why was I on the infield where I was not authorized to be. I explained in not the nicest terms that I was Leigh’s father and that he was out of line, and if he had a problem with her wearing a headband in the race he should discuss it with her coach or with his Clerk of Course and the Starter, both of whom had allowed her to run with it. I went on to say that I didn’t think the headband had anything to do with her winning by 100 meters over the second place runner. After a few more choice words from me where I might have called him a few non-flattering names, the other men in the gaggle started backing off, and he started yelling for security.
The local policeman, obviously having seen the confrontation, was already on his way over. The AD told the policeman to “Please escort this man off the premises.” The policeman looked embarrassed as he asked me, “Sir, would you please come with me?” I went without further fuss. As we were approaching the gate, the policeman said, “Sir, I’m really sorry about this. Coach _____ is a prick, but he’s our prick, so I have to support him.” I laughed and replied, “No problem.”
Thankfully, I’ve mellowed considerably since those days.
By the way, Leigh was not disqualified, and she continued to wear the headband throughout her high school career, including the state meet.
