A friend I’ve known since college competes in those “Highland Games” shindigs you see in muddy farm fields around the country. You know, the kind where you don a kilt and flip a caber end over end or lob a stone over a stick. He says he’s a nationally-ranked amateur (sort of like I’m a neighborhood-ranked runner here in Maple Run, Section 9). Anyway, he sent along the following videos:
“Here is what a pretty good amateur 22 pound hammer throw looks like:”
“And, here is what happens when the 22 year old kid who graduated from Rutgers last year and was on a track scholarship follows your 94’5″ throw with a 97 footer and you get fired up and go faster than you ever have before and are about to hit a personal record and smoke his 97 footer, but your left blade gives way:”
I love the guy, but I just had to share those, they crack me up so much. In fact, I think the end of the first video where he gets all psyched up after his 94 foot throw is the funniest bit. Knowing him, it’s soooo like him. He’s surprising and predictable (aren’t we all) in interesting ways: a philosophy major, Iraq-war veteran, Eagle Scout, college football lineman, defense contractor with top secret clearance.
Oh, and he even used to be a runner. I remember when he lived in Austin and was training for a marathon back in the late ’90s, he’d tell me about his 22-mile training runs while we stuffed our faces at the Mr. Gatti’s buffett (he was burning through calories, I was on my way to 248lbs), and I’d guffaw that anyone could (or would want to) run that far. He trained with some free group out of RunTex that no longer exists I think. Look at us now, how times have changed. I might even be able to beat him in a 40-yard dash now. ;)
Did 15×400 on Thursday, not 20, all at 80 +-1 second. Not many people did 15, most probably stopped at 10, and that was wise. The last few repeats I gutted through were probably counter productive.
Tried an easy four this afternoon. Thought I had it nailed after an 8 on the first mile, but without trying it crept to 7:45, then 7:20…. How does that happen? It all felt the same, and I was consciously trying to pace evenly and lightly. Oh well.
Sixteen(?) six hours from now.