By Jack | December 3, 2012
A couple of Sundays ago, before Thanksgiving break, I had the opportunity to participate in the Columbus Hot Chocolate 5k run. The race was at 7:30 in the morning that Sunday, and I had been up late “studying” the night before, so it pretty much sucked.
It felt good to raise some money for the Ronald McDonald House Charities regardless, and I definitely suggest running in this event when it comes to town next year.
Anyways, after I got there and wandered aimlessly for a bit, I finally found the starting line. My late arrival put me in the back of the group, behind all the slow people, so I spent the first five minutes weaving through the sea of people, trying to get out into the open.
Eventually I made it up to the group of people who actually seemed to have run 5ks before, and I felt great. I was cruisin’. And then I saw an eight-year-old. Yep. He was eight.
I know he was eight because I ran up next to him (he stood only about to my mid-stomach) and asked him how old he was. He looked at me, responded with a proud, “I’m eight,” and then he turned on the afterburners and made me look like a fool.
It made me realize something: some kids are just born athletic. I was not. When I was eight, I was watching SpongeBob SquarePants and playing with my Star Wars action figures. I was slow, uncoordinated and small. This kid was practically ready to go run the 1600 meters in the Olympics. It’s crazy.
And think about the athletes here at Ohio State. I bet Buckeyes quarterback, Braxton Miller, could run a 4.5 second forty-yard-dash when he was two-years-old. In fact, I think he was born at a full sprint—stiff-armed the head nurse and juked out the doctor on his way to the nursery. Lebron was 6’6″ in 6th grade; imagine bodying up someone that size as a 12-year-old. Noooooo way.
So basically, I’m predicting big things for this miniature-Michael Johnson. Fifteen years from now, when some dude from Columbus, Ohio is demolishing world records at the Olympics, I’m going to say that I raced him when he was eight. And, boy, did he smoke me.
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