Look at us Now

Believe it or not these two guys used to run track. In college no less. Now look at them. Two fat old daddies that probably don't get off the couch too much. Speaking of track, here is another excursion of

It was during our senior year at Cottonwood High School and we had a track meet at...I think it was Provo High School. Anyway, I was competing in the high jump. It was my last chance to clear 6 feet (my personal best), so I new I had to give it all I had to get over this height. I went through my routine, counted my steps and launched myself into the air. As my head cleared the bar, I realized I was higher than I had ever been, and I was going to clear the bar by about 6 inches. As I flopped the lower half of my body over the bar, I looked again to see my landing and I was just in time to see the edge of the mat fly past me. I knew this was going to hurt, and it did. I missed the mat all together. I hit the ground hard on my upper right shoulder, I bent in half, and my left knee flew up and gave me a pop-knot on the right side of my forehead. As I laid there on the track in a crumpled heap, I could tell that a very concerned hush had fallen over everyone. You could here a pin a drop for only about 3 seconds before the silence was broken up by the annoying cackle of one person. I lifted my head to see my best friend rolling on the ground laughing hysterically, and all the people either looking at me in horror, or at him in disgust. I was helped up, and besides the bump on my head and the road rash on my shoulder, the only thing hurt was my pride. (I never could get past my mind block to clear 6 feet again. In college my coach would tell me that I was jumping high enough over 5'10" to actually clear 6'10", but when ever the bar was set at 6' or above my mind wouldn't let me do it.) I don't know if Jed felt bad for laughing at me, or he just wanted to play doctor (he was my doctor once before. I'll tell you about that later.), but he offered to clean me up and bandage my wound. He knew that our coach had some spray disinfectant in his bag, so Jed dug through the bag and grabbed the can. He told me, "this might hurt a little". He started to spray. Just then the sharpest burn/sting I have ever felt rushed through the wound. When I flinched, he said, "I told you it was going to sting. Hold still." He continued to spray, all the while I was clinching my teeth and doing the best I could to endure the pain. When he was done I looked at the can. It turned out that he had been treating my road rash with the spray adhesive used to prep your skin before you put on the pre-rap for a tape job. (pretty much spray glue.) Needless to say removing that bandage was a-whole-nother experience in pain. Thanks for being there for me Jed.