Thursday, October 18, 2007
The Best Mile
"Best" is a complicated adjective; its four-letter, monosyllabic simplicity is at odds with its superlative function. There's nothing simple about naming a "best," unless you're a sixth grader referring to this week's new, "best" friend, who will inevitably and perfunctorily be replaced by next week's newer "best" friend. But these are not the bests in which most folks traffic, especially those who pursue excellence with the monomaniacal focus of an elite athlete.
So when Zoila Gomez, a World Championships marathoner (pictured above with fans at this year's Worlds in Osaka), told me she'd just run her "best" mile, I was all ears. Expecting to be regaled by a tale of superhuman effort and speed, I asked her to give me the play-by-play of the event; but as her story unfolded, it was clear this was no ordinary mile.
"I was in California..." she explained.
That makes sense, I think: even though Zoila lives in Colorado, she grew up in California.
"...And I had an engagement set up to speak at a local high school..."
Zoila makes countless speeches to high, middle and elementary schools, as well as local running clubs, and high school and collegiate running teams, so this too was well within the realm of believability.
"...When I read in the paper that the town's elementary school had a run scheduled for that morning. So I phoned the school and asked if I could participate..."
Could Zoila have laced up her racing flats and scorched a mini-mites road mile off the cuff? Unconventional but impressive.
"...and so I did. I drove over to the school and introduced myself to the students and we talked about running and then we all lined up for the mile race..."
No warm-up, huh?
"...When the race began, the students were so excited they sprinted off the start line and they were laughing so hard a few of them fell down, causing others of us to trip, too, and soon I was part of a pile of third graders, all of us giggling on the ground..."
Wow, a pile-up in the first 100 meters and she still PR'ed?
"...But we all got up and brushed ourselves off and I asked if everyone is OK and they all said 'yes,' so we kept running. And the students asked me all sorts of questions about the Olympics and the marathon and how many miles I run. So we ran and we talked. It was great fun..."
Wait...Zoila had enough oxygen available to have a conversation and the third graders were keeping up with her?
"...And then we finished and the students were so excited and they asked me if I would come back and run with them again next week. And I said 'yes,' of course."
"But, Zoila, how fast did you run?"
"Oh, I don't know. It took us maybe ten minutes. I'm not sure. I didn't time it. But it was my best mile. It wasn't my fastest, but it was my best."
For a woman who routinely logs 120 miles a week and has done so for longer than most of those third graders have been in school, who has run in more races in more countries than she could possibly count, who has amassed more All-American certificates and NCAA titles than any other DII runner in history, who, flatly stated, can choose among thousands upon thousands of miles which is her best, this one won the prize: a one-mile fun run with a group of inquisitive, giggling, third graders. Welcome to the arena.
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
Civic Engagement
Some of you may be scratching your heads and wondering from where the phrase "In the Arena" comes. "It's vaguely familiar," you're saying to yourself, "but I just can't seem to place it."
Question answered: the phrase "In the Arena" was coined by Teddy Roosevelt on the steps of the Sorbonne in 1910 when delivering the civic call-to-arms now known as "Citizenship in a Republic":
For more information on Teddy Roosevelt, including a number of "firsts" that he bagged (one of my own having come last night when I wrote my first blog entry), visit here.
Question answered: the phrase "In the Arena" was coined by Teddy Roosevelt on the steps of the Sorbonne in 1910 when delivering the civic call-to-arms now known as "Citizenship in a Republic":
“It’s not the critic who counts, not the man who points out how the strong man stumbled or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, and comes short again and again...who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat.”
For more information on Teddy Roosevelt, including a number of "firsts" that he bagged (one of my own having come last night when I wrote my first blog entry), visit here.
The first time
You never forget the first time.
So I'm told and so I believe. If that is indeed the case, I am destined to remember this experience of creating, posting and publishing my inaugural blog entry. As such, I'm pleased to feature one of my favorite photographs embedded in this post. It's a photo of an Arena Project in Chula Vista, CA run by Arena Athletes Gabriel Jennings and Sara Hall. How high can you reach?
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