You're In The Hall of Fame, Kid

There are certain moments in life that are so significant you will always be able to remember exactly where you were when they happened. For a slightly older generation than myself, a prime example of this phenomenon is the JFK assassination. Perhaps others may point to the OJ car chase. For me, I know that no matter what happens in my life, I will always remember exactly where I was the day Kid won the 800 bet.

Because I was there.

In my head, I imagined you gasping when you read that. If you didn’t gasp, don’t tell me. I’d like to continue to pretend that was an epic reveal.

The problem is you can’t force epic-ness. Unlike sheep clones or swine flu you can’t cultivate epic-ness in a lab. It needs to happen naturally in the wild in much the same way that bees pollinate flowers or Chris Pratt becomes jacked and attractive.

And that, of course, is why Kid’s run can never and will never be duplicated by anyone who knows his story. This story. So proceed with caution my reader. Know that what will be learned over the next 237 paragraphs (I’m just estimating here, but I write a lot and I indent a lot) cannot be unlearned.

Today/Tonight/Early Tomorrow Morning is the six year anniversary of one of the greatest athletic achievements the world has witnessed. As we all know (Tom McGuire voice), the six year mark is the threshold for which events can be considered for inclusion in the Jarrett Felix Hall of Fame for Things That He Thinks Will Fascinate Him For All Eternity. As such, the story needs to be revisited in full and tested against the joy scale. It will then be given a rating between 1 and 10 where 1 is Fermat’s Last Theorem and 10 is my patchy back hair. Scores of 8 or higher are accepted into The Hall.

Last year’s hall of fame class includes going out to dinner with Brendan Smith and his mother, conferences in the snow, and Bobby McGetrick. On the ballot again this year, after just missing a year ago, is the time Espo said I would be a godparent to one of his children.

So without further ado, let’s revisit this event in excruciating detail.

The story really begins on January 20^th for it was that day that Kid hit rock bottom. After a cross country season in which Kid’s only real highlight came as a result of snow, general incompetence about the length of the course and pissing on someone’s leg (metaphorically I think), he traversed to Lehigh to compete in the 5,000 meters. Hoping for the best, he set out on 25 laps of misery and nearly did a heck of a lot more than just pissing on his leg if you know what I mean.

Just to clarify, I mean he almost pooped his pants.

So after this result, Kid was relegated to the mid distance group because … well … he couldn’t be any worse at that than the long distance stuff. His first chance to prove his mid distance prowess came at the proceeding ESU meet (the Martin Darza Invitational) where Kid posted a 2:08 relay split on the 4x8-a PR for the 800 meters.

Here at the ESU meet, Kid and I both struggled to do anything all that impressive. That meant we were left off the itinerary for the first and last Armory Meet of the season. Only the most accomplished runners on the Muhlenberg roster were worthy of a spot at the prestigious Lafayette-Rider Games like Jeff Reinhart or Jeff Reinhart (he ran two events).

So instead, Kid and I stayed home. We did a workout on the indoor track and Kid nearly got into a fight with some basketball players who kept getting in our way. There was something about this workout, this fiery display of passion that brought us together as a middle distance corps. I felt like we were hungry (and not just because we were the two biggest eaters on the team) to produce big results as soon as we had another chance. This was the beginning of our training group and I believe it directly led to both of our eventual sub 2 minute 800 performances.

But more importantly, it also led to the 800 meter bet.

Boom. Another equally dramatic reveal-I KNOW YOU GASPED!

OK, so let’s summarize here. Kid has a 2:08 PR. He’s generally unimpressive. He has just done a workout. And then, he did what any college student would do on a Friday night, he got drunk. The estimates for his degree of inebriation are approximated at 8 beers. Not sure of the concentration of alcohol in said beers but you can safely assume it’s a cheap brew that is not Coors.

I sat with Kid as he ate a sizable quesadilla at our usual table in the General’s Quarters (a place where you can get food late at night at a college) and we began conversing about the only thing that we ever really talk about (even now when we are fat and out of shape): running. The exact transitions are lost to the annals of history, but eventually the confident Kid began to brazenly brag about his abilities to post a fast running result while also vaguely alluding to a Metallica concert that he wanted to attend.

So logically, as anyone who knows me knows I would be likely to do, I offered up a completely absurd and one sided bet which gave me little to nothing to gain. I bet Kid $50 that he could not run under 2:13 in the 800 at that moment. Well, saying “bet” implies I got some type of monetary reward if he failed. I said I would give him $50 if he ran under 2:13 is probably more accurate.

At the time, it seemed like an easy bet. He was 8 beers deep. He was 1 quesadilla deep. He had already completed a rather difficult workout. It was cold out. It was kind of snowing outside. This was a no brainer. I put up $50 bucks as incentive, money that he could use towards the aforementioned Metallica concert. Kid, on the other hand, was trying to talk me out of doing the bet since he was confident that I was basically throwing away money. Internally, I laughed at this. Externally, I also laughed at this.

We had an agreement and, as a crew, we began the arduous process of putting this wager into practice. It was quite the motley crew of unlikely supporters at the time. Reusing the original code names from 2012 (some of these have not aged well) it was Kid, me, Sam, 3s Company, Space Jam and Girl. The fact that Space Jam and Girl were in attendance for this event (circa 2012) is pretty amazing in its own right. I’ll save you the 9 paragraphs I had planned on that for the sake of efficiency, but just know it was odd-defying.

Things did not get off to a great start for Kid. As he began his warm up routine, he was joined by 3s Company who was similarly intoxicated. 3s Company made it about 2 minutes before he just gave up. That increased my confidence in the wager. Then Kid needed to get spikes. He briefly broke into the locker room before panicking about the alleged “silent alarm” going off and getting the heck out of there. Instead, he wandered over to our friend Lion Paw’s room. He boldly intruded on Lion Paw, who entertaining his lady friend Gold Star at the time, just so that he could borrow some spikes. Spikes that, I might add, were missing 6 of the 10 spikes that would normally be in them.

With his weapons in hand, Kid led the way excitedly to the Muhlenberg track. It was chilly and lightly snowing as we approached under the cover of darkness. Kid hopped the fence. The rest of us realized the gate was open and went around.

Another important detail here-at the time of this event, our track had a sink hole in lane one. That meant we had this immense barrier on the homestretch that stretched out to Lane 3. Kid was going to have to run around that, just another obstacle to his seemingly impossible task.

Kid did maybe one and half drills and a stride and then he stripped down to a pair of neon yellow women’s running shorts and a bare chest. He was ready. Logically, I was put in charge of the timing.

Now, for those of you who know Kid, it’s important to reiterate that, at the time of this race, he was only a 2:08 guy. He had run 17:40 for 5k some two weeks earlier. He couldn’t break 30 minutes in XC. This was a long, long time before he got the (mostly undeserved) gamer reputation that he holds in his arsenal now. So my doubt was strong and, in a surprisingly devious fashion, I decided that no matter what the first lap was I would tell Kid that he was on pace. I imagined him coming through over 70 seconds and beginning to struggle before I told him he was on pace. Then, he’d put his head down and struggle even more. What a genius plan! He said sarcastically setting up another paragraph in a comedic blog post.

Even at the start, when Kid got out perfectly on pace through 200 meters, I didn’t lose this overwhelming doubt. “He’s gonna die so hard.” You could hear my amusingly high pitched commentary clearly on the video. But Kid’s best friend/lover Sam never wavered in his belief. He knew Kid could do it from the beginning and cheered his heart out for his partner.

Kid approached the 400 meter mark and I read off the splits as planned. 63 … 64 … 65 …

Only this wasn’t a joke. Those were the actual splits! GASP!!

Now my giggling commentary of “He’s gonna die so hard” had become a panicked cry of “He’s gonna die so hard”. Kid continued to roll around the track and blasted off the final straightaway, breaking into view on our cell phone video just as Sam shouted “Do you believe in miracles?”

I stopped the clock. 2:10.84. A negative split. A near PR. No competition. Yes Snow. Beer. A sink hole. And of course, the most important part of it all, he went into the night with no expectations that this would ever happen.

With the most evil grin, he smiled at the camera, knowing that he had seemingly just done the impossible. It was a grin that could haunt your nightmares, but it quickly transformed into an innocent, joyful smile. Kid was just a kid doing what all kids do. Following their dreams. And doing stupid things when they are drunk. Millennials, am I right?

Honestly, this moment made for an incredibly fun night. But it was also career defining. From that moment on, Kid PRed in basically every race he ran. He got down to 2:01 by the end of the spring and became a certified middle distance runner. He became a gamer (most of the time). Some of that was the confidence that came from this race. Some of that was the fact that if he ever ran 2:10 or slower again he would never hear the end of it. But regardless of what it was that motivated him, it worked.

And your boy also ended up having a pretty good 2012. Once Kid dropped that performance, I didn’t lose a heat 800 meters or below the rest of the season and ran lifetime bests for 800 and 400. So thank you Kid. Without you, I would be nothing.

“Well, all I gotta say is … you’re welcome for the show … YouTube or wherever this is going … uh … this is like really gonna go toward my Metallica concert … in June …”

“I-I resigned myself to the fact that no matter what I was coming through on pace … at least …”

“Yo I just want to be an inspiration to all you young-uh-beer 800 meter runners … just good luck and you know you just gotta fight you know you gotta overcome adversity so um peace have a good night you’re welcome …”

Final verdict: 10/10. You’re in the Hall of Fame, Kid.