Last spring, I visited a high school meet in rural Oregon. One sprinter. Two relay teams. A long jumper practicing alone. The bleachers? Empty.
Not long ago, Friday night track meets were a thing. Now, they're an afterthought.
I asked the coach, "Where is everyone?" He didn't laugh. He sighed. "They're at soccer practice. Or at home, on their phones."
This isn't just one school. Across North America and parts of Europe, school track programs are shrinking—underfunded, underattended, and increasingly irrelevant to students.
But it doesn't have to be this way. The problem isn't that kids don't like moving. It's that track, as it's taught today, feels like a chore—not a choice.
The issue? It assumes every kid wants to be an elite athlete. But most don't.
I spoke with 15 students at three different schools. Their reasons for skipping track?
• "I'm not fast enough."
• "It's just running in circles."
• "No one watches. What's the point?"
Dr. Naomi Ellis, a youth sports researcher and Senior Lecturer in Physical Activity and Health at Staffordshire University, explains that traditional track and field can exclude many young people. It often favors only a few body types, skills, and goals, which can discourage a large majority of potential participants.
In contrast, activities like school rock-climbing clubs, dance teams, or intramural ultimate frisbee tend to feel more inclusive, social, and low-pressure. Track, on the other hand, can sometimes feel like a high-stakes test rather than a welcoming environment.
Many schools now:
• Charge $75–$150 to participate (for uniforms, travel, entry fees)
• Require 4–6 p.m. practices, 4x a week—clashing with jobs, family, or other classes
• Lack proper equipment (only 3 javelins for 20 throwers)
• Don't offer beginner-friendly events (like walking races, obstacle relays, or fun runs)
And for students without rides? Getting to away meets is impossible.
"It's not fair," said Maya, a 16-year-old who wanted to try hurdles. "I work at a café until 6. By the time I get to practice, it's over."
When sport becomes a privilege, not a possibility, participation drops. It's not laziness. It's logistics.
Take Lincoln High in Minneapolis. They didn't just keep their program alive—they doubled participation in two years. How?
1. Flexible scheduling
• Offered two practice times: 3:15 p.m. and 5:30 p.m.
• Allowed students to join any event, no tryouts
2. Fun-first events
• Added "silly relays": wheelbarrow races, sack jumps, backward sprints
• Hosted "Personal Best Days" instead of traditional meets—no rankings, just progress
3. Student-led design
• Let kids propose new events (e.g., 50m dash, foam javelin throw)
• Created a "Track Club" not tied to school sports—no GPA requirements
Result? Attendance jumped from 22 to 58 students. Half had never done track before.
Dr. Naomi Ellis, Senior Lecturer in Physical Activity and Health at Staffordshire University, highlights research showing that when kids feel ownership and inclusion in activities, participation rises. She emphasizes that youth sports should focus less on competition and more on belonging.
For example, a school in Scotland introduced "Walk + Talk" laps where students earn points walking loops with friends while chatting, with no stopwatch and no pressure—just gentle movement. Simple as it sounds, this approach effectively encourages engagement and social connection.
We don't need to turn every kid into an Olympian. We just need to make movement "inviting".
What if track wasn't just a sport—but a space?
• Where slow runners feel as welcome as fast ones
• Where jumping and throwing are games, not tests
• Where showing up is celebrated, not just winning
Some ideas that work:
• Non-competitive meets with team challenges and spirit awards
• After-school "movement labs" mixing running, jumping, games, and music
• Peer mentoring—older students coaching younger ones
It's not about lowering standards. It's about broadening the door.
Next time you pass a quiet track, ask: What could this space be?
Not just a place for future champions—but for every kid who wants to move, laugh, and feel part of something.
Because track doesn't have to die. It just needs to change.
And maybe, just maybe, the next generation will run—not because they have to, but because they want to.