Wednesday, August 25, 2004
Now that I am done getting my brains beat in on my trial I am free to watch the Olympics, just in time for most of the track and field. I love this stuff, and it's only ever on TV every four years, so I'm really just digging it. When I was a schoolboy I was terrible at all of it, but I had a whack at most of the events available. I was really a middle distance/distance runner, but St. John the Baptist DHS wasn't giving anything up by letting me have a go at a different event from time to time, and when you are hanging around the track all afternoon you try a lot of stuff besides.
I suppose I loved cross-country most, but what I wanted to be was a miler. To build speed, I sometimes dropped down to the 880; to build endurance I sometimes ran the two-mile, the deuce. The 440 was my father's event-- he'd been a great quarter miler in high school, but the quarter was too tough for me. It's the longest sprint, and I couldn't hack it. I was respectable at the 220 though, and sometimes filled in as the third leg of an 880 relay. The Hundred was out of the question for me-- I was never intended for that sort of speed. My senior year the steeplechase came into our league, 3000 meters with hurdles, and I had a go at that. I don't have a natural lead foot, so I could take a hurdle without getting my steps down. This would have been useful if I had been faster, and it helped in the steeple, although not enough to compensate for the fact that everyone else was faster there, too.
The high jump (Hoogspringen in German-- I love the internet) and the pole vault were things I tried, but both really belong to true eccentrics. I could long jump and triple jump, but mostly I was just goofing around. The weight events-- shot put, discus, hammer-- were never going to happen for me-- I was six feet tall and 110 pounds. If I tried the hammer it'd be even money which would get thrown.
I suppose, in a way, my running career is like my day job-- maybe I'm not at the front of the pack, but you can't get me off the track either.
And maybe I should be playing Beach Volleyball.
I suppose I loved cross-country most, but what I wanted to be was a miler. To build speed, I sometimes dropped down to the 880; to build endurance I sometimes ran the two-mile, the deuce. The 440 was my father's event-- he'd been a great quarter miler in high school, but the quarter was too tough for me. It's the longest sprint, and I couldn't hack it. I was respectable at the 220 though, and sometimes filled in as the third leg of an 880 relay. The Hundred was out of the question for me-- I was never intended for that sort of speed. My senior year the steeplechase came into our league, 3000 meters with hurdles, and I had a go at that. I don't have a natural lead foot, so I could take a hurdle without getting my steps down. This would have been useful if I had been faster, and it helped in the steeple, although not enough to compensate for the fact that everyone else was faster there, too.
The high jump (Hoogspringen in German-- I love the internet) and the pole vault were things I tried, but both really belong to true eccentrics. I could long jump and triple jump, but mostly I was just goofing around. The weight events-- shot put, discus, hammer-- were never going to happen for me-- I was six feet tall and 110 pounds. If I tried the hammer it'd be even money which would get thrown.
I suppose, in a way, my running career is like my day job-- maybe I'm not at the front of the pack, but you can't get me off the track either.
And maybe I should be playing Beach Volleyball.
