Yep, you can call me Mr Pole Vault!
I started tonight's track session - tonight on account of the fact I can't make tomorrow's track session - sorry lads - more important fish to fry...
Right, where was I? Oh yeah, the track session. I ran four 800's with a 2 minute recovery. Oh how slow was I. It was bloody hard work in what was perfect conditions - wish I could say the same about my condition. Poor - nuff said.
My splits were 2:38, 2:47, 2:42 and a final 2:49. Ok, so that's not a disaster but my legs felt like lead on the last two. Oh well, the only way is up from here.
And now to the main event - the pole vault. I had a dream... A dream where a man and his pole could live in perfect harmony. A dream where he could stick his pole in the hole and go horizontal - over the bar - you can't possibly imagine how much trouble I'm in for this piece of prose.
It was my first ever attempt at the pole vault and in truth it was a bit scary. The minimum competition height is a pathetic 2.1m - but that still looks high when you don't know what you're doing.
After maybe five or six attempts I was close. Close but there was no cigar on offer. I decided close enough was good enough for my first attempt but Martin D urged me on for one final attempt.
We re-measured my run up, lengthened my grip and prepared. The bar was raised - I mean lowered - to the minimum height, 2.1m. The onlookers, well, looked on - over to the sprinters actually, completely ignoring me. I breathed one final breath - not my actual final breath just the final one before I did the deed. The deed that took me up, up, up - come back after the break, only kidding - up, up and over. I was clear, daylight between me and the bar. I released the pole and pushed it away. I was over. The vault was complete. Mission accomplished. I am now able to clear the minimum competition height. Ready to be called into action on match day if required. The Mad Runner has become the Mad Pole Vaulter. You can call me Mr Minimum Height from now on.
Thought for the day: Can you be a closet claustrophobic?