September 28, 2019
Found another old document in my files, from March 15, 2019:
For hurdlers, falling isn’t a metaphor. It’s a reality that can happen in any race, over any hurdle, even when things are going perfectly well. The first time I fell was over the ninth hurdle in a 110m race my sophomore year of high school – my first year of running hurdles. I wasn’t expected to do much because I was so new to the event and because I hadn’t performed at a high level up to that point in the season. But there I was in the thick of things in a very competitive race that featured two good hurdlers from our rival school. One of them was way ahead of everybody, but, after a slow start, I was gradually catching up to the other one. By hurdle nine I was coming up beside him, about to pass him. But because I was so giddy about the possibility of beating him, I forgot the hurdle was there and I smacked into it with the foot of my lead leg, lost my balance, and tumbled to the ground. I did a stop-drop-and-roll move and got back up and finished the race, but ended up in last place when I could’ve gotten second.