Sports, like life, isn’t simply an uninterrupted timeline, but rather a series of consequential moments connected by time and space. So even though the clock never stops, some moments are more important than others.
American middle-distance runner Athing Mu can tell you exactly which moment was most vital Monday night in the finals of the women’s 800 at the US Olympic Trials. It wasn’t at the finish line or a decisive move in the final straightaway. It was about 200 meters into the race, when Mu’s foot clipped another runner’s before she tumbled to the track while the rest of the field ran ahead and around her as to not suffer the same fate. By the time Mu got up and started running, there was no reasonable hope she’d catch the field and earn one of the three qualifying spots to Paris. She did finish, tears already streaming down her face as the reality of what that single moment would mean to both her immediate and long-term career plans.
For context, Athing Mu isn’t just some run of the mill elite middle-distance runner. She’s the defending gold medal champion in the 800 who took Tokyo by storm as a seemingly unbeatable 19-year-old with an inspiring life story. She has the 8th fastest 800 time in history, and admittedly one of the few in that list that wasn’t run under suspicion of the Eastern Bloc steroid machine. And now as a 22-year-old, Paris was to be her coronation, where a gold medal defense would give her the kind of capital potential known to only the rarest of Olympians. All of that changed in the instant she went from upright to down on the track, likely the most enduring snapshot of the Trials’ first half.
Falling isn’t that unusual in elite track and field, where packs of runners jostle for prime position while moving at breakneck speed. There’s also regular tumbles in events like the hurdles and steeplechase, which almost feels like the point. In virtually all elite level races 800 and below, falling is the end of your race, or at least any intentions of winning. In longer events, it’s sometimes possible to recover, but you pay a pretty big aerobic price to catch up – not to mention the physical trauma of hitting the ground with reckless abandon. In often depends on the nature of the fall and the pace. But generally speaking, the best way to win is to remain upright.
Still the most famous fall in track history was Mary Decker after a collision with Zola Budd in the 1984 Olympics. In that case, Decker blamed Budd for tripping her and costing her an Olympic gold. Top American miler Morgan Uceny fell in multiple championship races, which was either horrible luck, poor tactics, or some confluence of the two. The sweet spot for tumbles seem to be championship middle distance races, where you’re no longer running in lanes but moving fast and close enough to be dangerous. And even though racing happens in packs, training is far more focused on singular efforts. So even experienced racers might tumble.
Mu did appeal to USA Track officials for a re-race, which was quickly denied. Even if another athlete was at fault, and it’s not clear they were, it’s impossible to put the genie back in the bottle. As is, there are three athletes who made the Olympic team, none of whom would like to put it back on the line so Athing Mu has another shot. Which then begs the question, how do you deal with a job where years of effort can be determined by the misfortune of one seemingly random moment during a championship race? This isn’t Scott Norwood missing a Super Bowl winning field goal, the moment where his legacy is supposed to be on the line. It would be a random injury in the play before that kick, or something like that. It’s cruel and seemingly unfair and changes the entire trajectory of your life’s work yet inherently a very part of the sport you do. While the first 200 isn’t the most critical point of the race, it is still a part, including the moment when Athung Mu fell to the ground to end any aspirations of Olympic glory. That, my friends, is sport, and life. Not a continuous run, but a patch quilt of connected moments, some way more important than others. For Athing Mu in these US Olympic Trials, one that may seemingly last forever.
Keith Strudler is the director of the School of Communication and Media at Montclair State University. You can follow him at @KeithStrudler
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