The Poetry of Hurdling
A lot of people refer to graceful running, and hurdling in particular, as “poetry in motion.” That phrase has been used often enough that it has become cliché. But I would argue that it has more relevance than is readily apparent.
As a high school English teacher over the past twenty years, I have read and taught my fair share of poetry, and I’ve written plenty of my own on the side. In that time I have noticed that the parallels between hurdling and poetry are many, and I’ve become convinced that the study of poetry can help you to more clearly understand who you are as a hurdler, and even has the potential to make you a better hurdler.
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What are the parallels?
As with hurdling, in poetry there are many styles. The best poets, just like the best hurdlers, study many styles, experiment with many styles, and gradually develop the style that best suits them. I’ll talk in detail a little later about style parallels.
Just as hurdling is the ultimate rhythm event of track and field, poetry is the ultimate rhythm genre of writing. In both poetry and hurdling, rhythm and style go hand in hand.
Along the same lines as rhythm, both poetry and hurdling require an understanding of how to utilize space. Empty space is what hurdlers use to decide upon a cadence that is suitable to their body type and speed. How a hurdler utilizes the empty space plays as big a role in success as execution over the hurdles itself. In poetry, empty space – between lines, between stanzas – can often suggest more meaning than the words themselves.
Both hurdling and poetry are art forms. Which means, no matter how any times you do it, each time you do it, you’re learning how to do it all over again.
On the flip side of that, both hurdling and poetry are sciences. Which means, once you know what works for you, you can follow that formula to achieve a certain level of success consistently.
For the 110/100 meter hurdler, probably the best poetic form of comparison would be the sonnet. In the 110/100m race, the rhythm, unless you’re a four-stepper transitioning to 3-stepping, is going to be the same every time. Either 7 or 8 steps to the first hurdle, then a 1-2-3 rhythm with the 4th step over the hurdle the rest of the way, then the run-in to the finish line.
The sonnet form mirrors the sprint hurdle race in that the rhythm is the same all the time. Although there are different types of sonnets, they all follow the same pattern rhythmically. Fourteen lines, with five stressed syllables per line. Rhyme scheme can vary, but the rhythm stays the same. So, just like a hurdler has to figure out how to fit in his three steps between the hurdles – whether it’s best to speed up or quicken up – the sonnet writer has to fit everything he or she is trying to say in a particular line in the space of 10 or 11 syllables, with five of them stressed. And just like how in a hurdle race each hurdle flows into the next, in a sonnet each line flows into the next. Though each hurdle, and the end of each line, seems to serve as a division, the truth is that you don’t want for a pause to occur, but a continuous flow.
For the above reasons, I feel it would benefit the sprint hurdler to read sonnets, and to put forth the effort to write his or her own. Doing so you will give you a greater understanding of, and appreciation for, the wizardry involved in mastering space, rhythm, and timing. Don’t worry about trying to be the next Shakespeare; just engage in the process of fitting the words into a predetermined structure, since that is exactly what you are doing in a hurdle race. You will find that your mind will make the connection, and your body will too.
And the thing about it is, although the structure is predetermined, there is plenty of room for individual expression, for “doing your own thing.” Yes, a 110/100m hurdler will take the same amount of strides every race, but every hurdler has his or her own individual style. Similarly, there are many different styles when it comes to writers of sonnets. Some are very deep, some can be funny, some write about nature, some write about family or love, etc. Some sonnet writers are more percussive with the stressed syllables, while others are lighter on their feet, so to speak. So the sonnet writer, like the sprint hurdler, has to go through a process of individualizing his or her style in order to express him or herself most fully and to maximize his or her potential. You can’t run well if you don’t know who you are as a hurdler, and you can’t write well if you don’t know who you are as a writer.
Let’s take a look at a snippet from a sonnet from the master himself, William Shakespeare. Here are the first four lines from Sonnet 120:
That you were once unkind befriends me now,
And for that sorrow, which I then did feel,
Needs must I under my transgression bow,
Unless my nerves were brass or hammered steel.
As you can see, there is no margins for error in such a right structure. If one line has too many or too fee syllables, or if an unstressed syllable comes where a stressed syllable belongs, such a mistake would throw off the rhythm of the whole poem. That’s just the same as how one misstep, or a stride that’s too long or too short, can throw off the entire rhythm of a hurdle race. That’s why I think that practicing sonnet writing can benefit the sprint hurdler. It ingrains the same mindset and forces you to face the same mental challenges.
In addition to the sonnet, the 110/100m hurdler can also benefit from reading poetry that features a tighter metrical pattern. The sonnet form consists of lines written in iambic pentameter (five stressed syllables per line), while there are other poems written in iambic tetrameter (four stressed syllables per line). Such poems mimic the 1-2-3-4 rhythm of the hurdle race more closely. A poem like Countee Cullen’s “Heritage” would be a good example. Here’s an excerpt:
Unremembered are her bats
Circling through the night, her cats
Crouching in the river reeds,
Stalking gentle flesh that feeds
By the river brink; no more
Does the bugle-throated roar
Cry that monarch claws have leapt
From the scabbards where they slept.
This poem has a very earthy, percussive beat and moves along at a faster pace than a sonnet.
Sidney Lanier’s “Song of the Chattahoochee” has a similar rhythmic flow. Here are the opening lines of that one:
Out of the hills of Habersham,
Down the valleys of Hall,
I hurry amain to reach the plain,
Run the rapid and leap the fall,
If a sprint hurdler were to practice writing poetry of his or her own in iambic tetrameter, it would again reinforce the rhythm of the race and challenge the mind to deal with the same issues of negotiating a confined amount of space that he or she will face in a race. Just reading poetry written in iambic tetrameter will help to subconsciously create a sort of mental muscle memory, reminding the body to dance, to stay quick.
In next month’s issue I’ll talk about how poetry – and what types of poetry – can benefit the 300/400m hurdler. Hope all you 110/100 guys and girls will give poetry a try. Keep in mind, although poetry is known as being all about the emotions, it is also quite mathematical, especially when you’re talking about iambs. Just as in hurdling, everything has to fit in a certain amount of space.
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