« on: January 09, 2007, 12:18:32 PM »
July 22, 2006. There was no way I was getting over that hurdle. My track and field history would suggest a photo opportunity was in our midst. In 1991, as part of my elementary school field day, I somehow got conned into participating in the hurdles, which Iíd never done; which 11-year-olds should never do. I sprained my left ankle, received six stitches on my right shin and broke the orbit around my left eye; and all this happened before the first hurdle! I tripped early on, and only my orbit reached the metal. In 2002, I broke my wrist trying to be funny on the track. I approached a hurdle at full speed and tried to push it down instead of jumping over it. Of course the hurdle was bolted to the floor and my wrist snapped like a twig. Is this even legal! Is it legal in sports to punish failure with injury this serious? I was away from the hurdles for nearly 5 years when, in 2006, I faced the high-class leapfrog once again. This time the stakes were high: ooh I loved that girl, and she was a state champion hurdler. I honestly donít know how I got myself into this position again, facing a row of hurdles. I really wanted to impress Marissa. It is ironic that she was the person I awoke to, performing mouth-to-mouth resuscitation on me. So, Iím a failure at hurdling, right? Wrong! Well, no, right, but I got the girl!