I’ll head to Bergen in a few minutes, but first I’ll tell you about yesterday’s attempt at picking up stones from the past.
As a tradition, I always meet up with some of my retired track mates for a reunion — at the track. This is the one day out of the year where we sacrifice kneecaps, Achilles tendons and all other sports injuries we’ve collected through the years for an extravagant jumping showdown.
This year, Ingrid and I decided to give the high jump a try. I sort of retired as a high jumper all the way back in 2009, when my ankle first started acting up, but I did a couple of jumps every year until four years ago. However, in between that last high jump and yesterday, I’d been an Olympic weightlifter, bodybuilder and a half marathon-runner, so to expect anything more than disaster would be rather… delusional.
But it went fine! I was able to hold back enough to save my kneecaps from too much pain, which I’m very proud of. You all know letting me loose on a track is like letting a kid watch the candy store without adult supervision. I don’t know when to stop.
We both cleared 1.40m (4’7.12″) without too much of a struggle, and then we called it a day.
Click on the pic below for video:
The funny thing was that all the technical flaws we had as high jumpers seven years ago were still there. Had it not been for our lack of speed, power and springiness our form looked the exact same. Muscle memory is a cool thing.
So did this make me want to do a comeback?
No. Not at all. But it was a lot of fun catching up with old mates and Mr. High Jump.
Until next time,