On yer marks, get set… 28.08.09
In case you missed it at
the World Athletics Championships, I have to tell you
that Usain Bolt is fast.
Well, let’s revise that a little. He’s very fast.
In fact, he’s the fastest in the world over 100 metres
and 200 metres. And you know, by the looks of him, he
might even be able to go faster some day.
Most people who have watched on in amazement at the
arrival of this fantastic superstar on the world
athletics stage still marvel at how he can almost take
his foot of the gas in some races and still cruise over
the line.
It’s not what we’re used to in a race like the 100
metres where everybody goes full pelt and has barely
time to think about what they are doing before the race
comes to an end.
But Usain seems to cruise over the last number of metres
and I’ve heard people say that it must be amazing to be
able to that. |
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And it is. And I say that
with a certain degree of authority - because I know.
Okay, so I might not know what it feels like to streak
away from the field in an Olympic or World Championships
final, but I have won a 100 metres race with some yards
to spare. Or should that be metres.
It’s not something I’m proud of though.
It’s not exactly like I cheated, and somewhere I think I
still have the medal I won, it’s just that I don’t
consider it to have been won fairly and squarely.
At first I was just a spectator you see. Standing nearby
when the boys under tens were lining up for the 100
metres sprint at a summer sports day.
That was until the man organising the race spotted me
and asked why I wasn’t running.
“I’m eleven,” I said, “and it’s an under ten race.”
I was still talking as he was pushing me onto the
starting line muttering something about the fact that I
was so wee that nobody would know or say anything.
But I kept telling him, and in some kind of an effort to
even things up he pushed me behind the line about a yard
or so and told me everybody else now had a headstart.
I don’t know how many people were in the race, but they
were all yards behind me when I broke through the tape
at the other end.
That bit I can actually still remember. That and the bit
where a big woman grabbed me by the arm to whisk me away
to get my medal at the end. I think that as well as the
medal, I still have the bruise.
The rest - apart from the start where I still couldn’t
believe I was running in an under ten race - is all a
bit of a blur.
But I’m pretty sure when I had eaten up the yard
headstart and then began to pass those in front of me,
it must have been a pretty awesome Usain-Bolt-like
feeling - even if I was a cheater who was a year older.
Particularly for me. Okay I might not have been as slow
as treacle, but sprinting wasn’t exactly my thing.
My brother Ray was the sprinter. He had boxes filled
with medals won in the 100 metres and 200 metres and not
just ones he’d won at sports days either. |
He had fancy medals with
Ulster crests in them and won at all sorts of athletic
events.
Me, I was more of a middle distance runner. If I had to
run at all.
But even though I was a member of an athletics club and
I do have some medals for running middle distance races,
I decided pretty early on that running was not my thing.
It wasn’t a decision I made as I walked away from the
medals tent with my under tens 100m gold.
But that last place in the under twelves 100 metres a
half an hour later might have played a part in it…. |
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A DROP OF
PORTER is
the weekly
column of
Inishowen
Independent
editor,
Liam Porter. |
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