I was especially reenergized for the 1973 track season when I found myself sharing the cover of a track program with Prefontaine |
As my 1972 track season came to end, I qualified and ran in the Olympic Trials. Midway through my first qualifying heat I was gassed. I realized that the clock had struck midnight and Cinderella’s time at the ball was over. The season had just gone on too long; this six-month stretch was twice as long as my high school seasons. I had nothing left in the tank.
1972 Olympic Trials, I'm on the left, Dave Wottle on the right in the hat
Dave Wottle won the heat. I was a non-qualifying fifth. I was physically shot, mentally shot. After my heat, I went to the trailer to give a urine sample for drug testing. The last two people inside were Ryun and me. I had run a plodding 1:51.0. Ryun, of course, had easily qualified but he would finish fourth in a finals won by Wottle in world-record-tying time (1:44.3), though Jim would make the Olympic team in the 1500.
Athletes, in some ways, are cursed by the “what-have-you-done-for-me-lately?” attitude, often originating within ourselves.
Fresh off an Air Force base in Spain, I had won
seven straight races as a freshman, finished second in the Pac-8 meet, and placed
sixth in the Nationals. But as I slunk back to my dorm room that night after the Trials, I had an odd
feeling.
Like I had failed.
No comments:
Post a Comment