A Simple Hurdling Memory
by Keare Smith
Time spent at home has led to a period of reflection and contemplation on various topics I enjoy, including hurdling and listening to Jazz music. In this article I discuss feelings I have regarding our current reality in relation to Covid-19 and how it has led me to reflect on past hurdle memories.
Self-directed learning has been a cornerstone of my adult life; it was this passion for learning that drew me to finish my undergraduate studies at Columbia University School of General Studies. My pursuit of lifelong learning is rooted in my days as a hurdler, and a hurdling journey that was rather unconventional. I started at age 11, then went on to win two national championship races the following year. I then fell into hurdle obscurity, not running a single impressive hurdle time until senior year of high school. In the blink of an eye I was on the radar of college coaches across the country. This senior year success led to competing at the Division I level for the Virginia Tech Hokies, where I ran hurdles and relays. My career at Virginia Tech was cut short, lasting only three years. Most of the hurdles I cleared at Tech were the constant off the track issues I dealt with, the biggest obstacle being my unfinished undergraduate degree. Luckily, Columbia has an undergraduate program for nontraditional students like myself, allowing me to pick up where I left off academically in 2011.
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The term “Covid-19” has recently dominated every aspect of our daily lives. We are all more than likely fed up with the term at this point. However, there is no denying its major influence over our current thoughts and reality. A few months ago, any sense of normalcy deteriorated overnight. With such dramatic changes come powerful emotions. To make life’s present difficulties a little more manageable, I have relied heavily on personal Jazz favorites to navigate an array of emotions and pass the time. The impact of the virus has led to a longing for the not too distant past. There is an underlying desire for things to go back to the way they were (even just three months ago!). Jazz continually presents itself as a personal outlet or way to cope with complex human emotions. I have recently found immense solace in my favorite Jazz song (John Coltrane and Duke Ellington’s “In a Sentimental Mood”), and my favorite Jazz album (Miles Davis’ “Kind of Blue”).
Some say Jazz is America’s classical music; however, I disagree; Jazz is in a league of its own, unlike any form of music in existence. Like hurdling, Jazz follows its own rules, encompassing so much more than anything remotely comparable. Jazz’s DNA is made up of the suffering, oppression, and triumphant moments of African American life in America. Jazz is the musical response to the hardships Black people experience in America. Personally, this is a genre of music that transcends time and space not only because of the obvious skin color connection; I feel connected to the many influences channeled in the creation of Jazz by its pioneers. Like hurdling, Jazz and I are connected spiritually.
I feel a much-needed sense of calmness as soon as the first few notes are played in “In a Sentimental Mood.” It sounds as if John Coltrane’s tenor saxophone is literally speaking the words “in a sentimental mood.” My present nostalgia for my old life happens to put me in a very sentimental mood. Also, there is nothing quite like getting lost in the sounds of Davis’ trumpet and sinking into the feelings created by the tracks that make up the album Kind of Blue. In my Masterpieces of Western Music class, we recently touched on the concept of the timelessness and intrinsic value of music. Jazz is that special genre that will live on forever in my heart and soul, so I wrote about Miles Davis and John Coltrane. Writing that essay led to thoughts regarding aspects of my life that are “timeless” like Jazz.
I will be 30 years old in two months, a major life milestone. Crossing the threshold of young adulthood into what I consider “serious adulthood.” As I reflect on where I have been and what makes me the man I am today, my mind often wanders back to my days as a hurdler. So many positive and negative memories are associated with my chosen art form of hurdling. I flip through a series of the same hurdle memories that are imprinted in my brain for life. These memories include national championships, major falls, and the races where it all came together. The hurdle memory I cling to the most is difficult to describe in words. Here is my attempt to paint a picture of this timeless memory.
The amusing aspect of the memory—it was a regular day at hurdle practice in the summer of 2002, when I was twelve years old. I can clearly recall small details, which is how I know it is a special memory–I rarely recall all the vivid details of memories! It was extremely hot that day, practice was held at Cardinal Gibbons High School in Raleigh, NC, and everyone was there–my hurdle teammates, Coach McGill, Coach McDougal, and most importantly my Dad. That day’s workout was a speed day; the hurdles were spaced farther apart so I could run five steps at full speed in between (I loved that workout). I ran as hard as I could every rep, no holding back. I was one of the top hurdlers in my age group at that time; a lot was at stake that season. However, none of that mattered on this special day. I was on autopilot when it happened. Between reps. I attempted to catch my breath, preparing for another round of hurdling, then this feeling hit me. It was a feeling of pure joy in every ounce of my body, and the glare of the sun hit me in the right spot too. I smiled and took off running towards hurdle one, continuing to smile all the way through the rep. I felt immense joy; I was at peace with who I was and where I was during this moment. I was changed physically, spiritually, mentally, and emotionally. At times I question why this is the hurdle memory; it was just another day at practice. You would think one of my two National Championships would outshine this memory; however, I barely remember the feeling of standing on that first-place podium. We are made to feel like winning is everything, but I do not remember most of the races I won. Why is my favorite hurdle memory from a regular day at practice? I suspect it was the first time I felt a sense of satisfaction and love for doing or creating something. That was the moment I knew I loved hurdling on a deep level, which was something that was hard to comprehend at age 12. At the time, I was the top hurdler in my age group in the nation, but in that moment, I did not care. I just loved hurdling.
The older I get, the more I see that life’s important memories are simple, like the one highlighted above. “In a Sentimental Mood” is like my favorite hurdle memory–sophisticated in its simplicity, making up for what it lacks in complexity with its ability to awaken strong emotions. Our current reality is troublesome, leading to strong feelings regarding the forced simplicity of our new life circumstances. Like many others, I miss aspects of my old life, like going to class and going out to eat. The virus will transform the way we think, and many aspects of our life may never be the same. What we are dealing with right now deserves to be acknowledged for the emotional toll it is taking on us all. However, as we are stuck inside, our memories act as a blank canvas, allowing us to focus on what is profoundly important in life. This is a time when simplicity is forced, providing the opportunity to create simple and memorable memories with ourselves and our loved ones. Strong emotions have a strange ability to traverse space and time. What memories will carry on from this time of forced social distancing? More than likely the simplest.
Keare Smith is from Raleigh, NC and is currently attending College at Columbia University in New York
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