You know you’re a Canadian masters athlete when . . .


. . . you take home the gold medal after finishing last in
your race. 

. . . you arrive for the high jump an hour late, and the
bar still hasn’t been raised to your starting height. 

. . . you thrill to see yourself in the annual age-group
rankings. 

. . . you despair to see your only mark of the season in
the annual age-group rankings. 

. . . you start comparing yourself to 70-year-old pole
vaulters and 30-year-old milers on the basis of
age-graded performances. 

. . . you get crushed by someone 15 years older than
you. 

. . . you learn the guy who crushed you competed in the
1976 Canadian Olympic Trials. 

. . . you know who Ed Whitlock and Earl Fee are. 

. . . you wish you were Debbie Brill or Harold Morioka. 

. . . you arrive at a track meet with an entourage of
relatives, friends, picnic gear and camcorders. 

. . . you arrive at a track meet alone, but you know so
many of the athletes on the field you feast on friendship
and memories of past meets. 

. . . you travel a thousand miles just to run for 12
seconds. 

. . . you pull up lame 1,000 miles from home six
seconds into a race. 

. . . you pull up lame a mile from home. For the fourth
time in two years. 

. . . you compete in a national championship even
though you never lettered in high school. 

. . . you attend a high school reunion, and the captain of
your old track team is so amazed by your condition he
makes a third trip to the bar to drown his envy and
bloat his already obese body. 

. . . you decide to enter a new event just for the heck of
it (and no coach tells you to forget it). 

. . . you decide to scratch from an event for the heck of
it (and no coach holds your scholarship over your
head). 

. . . you stoically pony up $20 entry fees (and no coach
is there to handle the expense and paperwork). 

. . . you line up against teen-agers at an all-comers
meet, just for the private satisfaction of seeing their
faces when you tell them your age afterward. 

. . . you limp into work the next day, just for the public
pride in being able to explain to astonished co-workers
that you just ran the 400-meter intermediate hurdles. 

. . . you celebrate turning 50, 55, 60 or 65. 

. . . you curse being 49, 54, 59 or 64 

. . . there was no such thing as "sports medicine" when
you ran track in high school. -- Kenn Miller 

. . . you're more afraid of your own hamstrings than the
competition. -- Kenn Miller

. . . your physiotherapist is younger than your kids. --
Brian Nussey 

. . . you hold the school record for the 180 lows, and
you remember those lonnnnng spikes that let you run
on the cinders. -- Rick Lapp 

. . . you find yourself still competing in track long after
many of the high school athletes you’ve coached have
stopped running, jumping and/or throwing! -- Gerry
Krainik 

. . . you have enough T-shirts to make a quilt that
would cover the track infield. -- David E. Ortman 

. . . you think meter was something you did with a girl.
-- David Moore 

. . . you arrive at a meet and are surprised to find that
the pits aren’t full of sawdust. -- Anonymous 

. . . you miss the smell of sawdust, but not the pain it
was to have it in your shorts. -- Anonymous 

. . . while your spouse counts rooms in the potential new
house, you’re outside stepping off shot landing area,
surveying driveway for plyometrics, measuring garage
ceiling for snatch and jerks, and checking mileage
distance to nearest all-weather track. -- David Tolson 

. . . you can remember what the original adidas logo
looks like. -- Keith Royster 

. . . you can remember using 3/4-inch spikes for
outdoor season. -- Keith Royster 

. . . you once dug holes in the track for starting blocks.
-- Keith Royster 

. . . your lifetime PRs include distances in yards, not
meters. -- Keith Royster 

. . . you can remember taking salt tablets to avoid
cramps. -- Keith Royster 

. . . calesthentics used to be part of your warm-up. 
-- Keith Royster 

. . . you ran the 220 low hurdles. -- Keith Royster 

. . . you wondered what was the big deal with Michael
Johnson's 200-400 Olympic double, when Alberto
Juantorena did a 400-800 double 20 years earlier. 
-- Keith Royster 

. . . you first thought supplements were more track
intervals. -- Keith Royster 

. . . you can remember when Tiger made the best
racing flat. 

. . . you first thought plyometrics was a computer
course. -- Keith Royster 

. . . you spend more time stretching than running
-- Rick Larush

. . . you’re having the time of your life! 

Altered version used by permission of Ken Stone, webmaster of Masters Track & Field Home Page at http://www.masterstrack.com/