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DELAND, Fla. -- Bryson Scott scored a career-high 27 points with six rebounds, four assists and three steals to pace IPFW over Stetson 93-74 on Sunday.Scott went 10 of 16 from the field and 5 of 7 on 3-point attempts. Kason Harrell scored 17 points with eight boards, Mo Evans had 14 points with eight assists and John Konchar added 12 points and 10 rebounds. The Mastodons (9-3) shot nearly 49 percent, including 13 of 30 (43.3 percent) from beyond the arc.Divine Myles led Stetson (6-7) with 18 points and seven rebounds. Angel Rivera added 14 points with six assists.IPFW was up by two points midway through the first half, and then used a 19-6 run -- including a pair of 3-pointers by Scott -- to take control. Evans drained a 3 with 43 seconds left before intermission to give IPFW a 50-32 lead at the break. NCAA Jerseys From China . Jane Virtanen scored two, and Alex Roach and Elliott Peterson rounded out the offence for the Hitmen (40-15-6). Brady Brassart chipped in with three assists. Colton McCarthy scored twice, Brayden Point had a goal and two assists, and Jack Rodewald also scored for the Warriors (15-35-9), who were 2 for 5 on the power play. Cheap NCAA Jerseys Authentic . The 31-year-old Spain midfielder hasnt played since Madrid lost in the Copa del Rey final to Atletico Madrid in May due to back and foot injuries. https://www.ncaajerseys2020.com/ . A knee to the thigh might have stung him the most, but his sixth straight double-double made up for the brief burst of pain. College Jerseys Outlet . -- Matt Kuchar and Harris English ran away with the Franklin Templeton Shootout, shooting a 14-under 58 on Sunday in the final-round scramble to break the tournament course record. Fake NCAA Jerseys .B. - Sebastien Auger made 44 saves as the Saint John Sea Dogs edged the visiting Acadie-Bathurst Titan 2-1 on Saturday in Quebec Major Junior Hockey League action. In July and August, espnWs weekly essay series will focus on body image.The best days were also the longest ones at the track. Interval work. Repeats. I was 16 and understood my body in muscle, speed and time. Spring track meant more hours of daylight and warmer weather. If my coach said, One more, I was ready. Race pace, I could sweat myself there.My high school was not particularly committed to athletics, and participation in track was limited. I ran with the boys because there were no other girls who could keep up. I felt good being one of them; keeping up with boys meant I was strong.My scrawny frame, so perfect and typical for a high school female distance runner, did not give me social cachet. When other girls my age were speeding toward womanhood, I was ensconced in athletic girlhood. Pursuing excellence at running wasnt always an easy choice.I wanted to be good, but I also wanted to be a teenager -- which meant both having time to go to parties, and getting asked to them, being desired, being kissed -- all part and parcel of a traditional adolescence that didnt revolve around hours spent on the track and 400-meter splits.I went to college as a recruited runner and imagined a four-year career in which I got stronger and quicker, surrounded by teammates who could inspire me and push me to be the fastest version of myself. Like so many female-bodied athletes making the transition from high school to college, I got hurt. I battled repetitive stress fractures in my shins.Though I wasnt one of them, I knew countless high school runners, and even runners on my college team, who attempted to stall womanhood with hard training or disordered eating. I knew that what happened to my body in college was typical, that the onset of puberty is delayed for many female high school distance runners, and that, with puberty often comes diminished times, or injuries.No one had tailored training specifically toward my changing body. No one coached me through my transition from girlhood to womanhood. I simply had to accept a different relationship to my body. No longer could I define myself by muscle and speed.I had to re-understand and relearn my body off the track, and in the world. What did it mean to be a woman, especially now that I was no longer a competitive athlete? Especially now, with breasts and hips, 20 pounds heavier than when I graduated high school. How could I continue to feel strong and sure in my body when it didnt look or work as it once had?After college, I thought I had left the world of competitive distance running forever, but I ended up finding my way back. For a number of years, I was one of the coaches for the distance runners at an all-girls Catholic high school in Seattle. The girls on this team were fierce, determined, and fast -- as well as kind, open, easy to laugh, and compassionate and caring teammates.There were no boys at the school, so running with them wasnt an option. The girls were more confident in themselves because they had never been told that being called fast implied being as fast as boys. Instead they became strong together, as a pack of girls.There are still few discussions about how to coach girls on the brink of womanhood, how to foster both their athletic ability, and their development of self. I feel lucky that, as a coach, I worked with a woman, Erin, who not only was an experienced coach, but also haad trained as a social worker.ddddddddddddErin and I werent simply interested in coaching the girls to produce faster times, but rather in helping them become sustainable athletes and people -- girls who felt comfortable and strong in themselves both on and off the track, proud of their bodies and their athletic feats but not defined by them.We wanted to teach them ownership over their bodies. We hoped we could help them be comfortable with the ways their bodies would grow and change.Our conversations about how to build practices not only revolved around the workout for the day, but also around how the girls were doing. Were the girls eating enough? Were they sleeping? Were they obsessing about someone of the opposite sex? Unsure of their sexuality? Were they worrying about their bodies? Thinking about their gender expression?We hoped we could help the girls become powerful, strong, confident, and secure -- in part because, as women, they will be up against so much. Women earn less than men; womens sports get far less national coverage than mens sports; even female Olympic athletes are often referenced in relation to their male counterparts.If girls are constantly being told, in one way or another, that they matter less, its up to us -- coaches, teachers, mentors, parents, friends -- to tell them just how valued they are, how capable.Erin and I told them how to manage period cramps on days when they had to race. They were relieved when we told them that yes, we too, got anxious, as they did before races.We couldnt share everything about ourselves, but we wanted them to know us -- and to know we had survived; we were good; like they would become, we were women, strong, capable women, comfortable in our own bodies.The girls on the team were serious athletes, some of the best athletes in the state. One more. They were ready. Race pace. They did it without complaint.Yes, some certainly did get injured because training hard is living on the brink of injury. Some got faster. Some got slower. Some gained weight. Some lost it. We tried to talk about all of it, and tried to paint it as a natural part of growing up.As the seasons wore on, it became clear that I too would have benefited from the type of coaching we were trying to provide the girls on the team. I needed someone to look up to, someone to tell me what was happening to my body was normal, that I could be fast again. I needed someone to tell me that I wasnt losing anything as I matured.Its been a couple of years since Ive coached. I miss the long days at the track, when the last frozen remnants of winter have finally melted, and the red rubber is hot with sun and the pounding of feet. I miss Erin and the conversations that we had about how to coach, which were actually about how to live.I miss the girls. I think about them racing around the final curve and into the straightaway, their muscles screaming and lungs burning. I think about the pain they have taught their bodies to endure. I hope that whenever they leave the track, they walk tall, strong and proud toward the starting line, on the brink, ready to go.Hannah Oberman-Breindel is a writer based in Brooklyn, New York. She tweets @obermanbreindel. At this moment, she is most likely watching the Olympics. ' ' '