July 29, 2014
Masters hurdler Francis X. Shen, who splits time between Minnesota and Boston, recently contacted me about his hurdling endeavors. Shen, who ran for the University of Chicago in the late ’90’s, has continued to train and compete into his mid-thirties. Seven years ago he wrote an article entitled “Still Hurdling after all These Years,” and he recently updated it to reflect his current status. It’s a long article about his hurdling journey, and it’s well worth the time to read the whole thing.
What you realize in reading Shen’s article is that all of us who dedicate ourselves to the hurdles share a special bond, that there are commonalities in our stories that unite us in ways that are unspoken and invisible, yet very, very real. To read the article in full, click on this link: Still Hurdling after all These Years.
Here’s a snippet from the article that really rang true for me:
This is the difference between competitive sports and “going to the gym.” In the gym, you can’t lose. The Boston Sports Club, like so many others, markets themselves by telling customers, “We want to make the experience easy for you.” They have televisions so you can forget about the running; trainers with you at every step so you don’t have to think for yourself; and guarantees that you’ll leave feeling great. Hurdling does something else entirely. It humbles you. Hurdling isn’t a way to forget about the reality of life. Hurdling brings that reality front and center. Like other serious track and field athletes, hurdlers feel anxiety as they realize that everything hinges on one, short race. Hurdlers feel disappointment and experience failure when they don’t perform up to expectations (especially their own). Hurdlers don’t always walk off the track feeling great about themselves. Sometimes they walk off the track so disgusted and deflated they don’t know why they ever started doing it to begin with. Hurdlers get knocked down. But the great lesson of hurdling, the great lesson of competitive athletics, is that you fight back. You feel the pain, but you work through it. You acknowledge defeat, but you don’t accept it.