Promises Promises

Lane 8 jeff noel

That first track season was exciting. It provided new and abundant motivational fuel. It ended poorly, but that only made my resolve greater. And I set out on the long, slow road to hamstring-tear recovery.

Long story short, the next year, wiser and much more focused, I ripped the other hamstring.

Stupid boy.

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Fool

Lane 8 jeff noel

So, in my infinite stupidity, a few moths of “training” later, I get the heat assignment. This time, there are no slow pokes in the race, unless you count me.

But, being an optimist and dreamer – with adrenaline coursing through my veins, the starter fires his pistol and we’re off.

Maybe 150 meters into it, early on the backstretch, POP!

The season is over. And right then and there, I promise to never ripe another hamstring.

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So You Think You’re Fast

Okay, so now my eyes are bigger than my stomach. And I think with a little focus, and a pair of track spikes, I can knock 5-7 seconds off my time of 62.5 seconds for 400 meters. Wow, if I could knock 5-7 seconds off, I’d be one of the Nation’s best age-group 400 meter runners.

This is a train wreck waiting to happen. Can you see where it’s going?

You have to remember, my feet haven’t seen track spikes in 25 years. Foretelling.

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I Smoked Em, Admits jeff noel

The 70-year old jeff noel beat looked like this guy, Guideo Muller. Guido holds the 70-74 400m World Record.

So I show up. Not knowing what to do or how to do it. Was wearing New Balance 473’s – more like trail running shoe than track spikes. Clod-hoppers is what they call them where I grew up.

An 11-year old on the inside lane, then me, and a 70-year old on the outside lane. The starter raises his pistol – runners to your mark (pause), set (pause 1-2 seconds), BANG!

One minute, two and a half seconds later, I smoked them both.

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