Getting out of blocks quickly in a foot race is a difficult skill to learn, because it's counterintuitive and runs against every instinct. You literally have to throw your arms apart in the pose of someone who's already at full speed. This will unbalance you and force you to lunge forward or fall flat on your face.
If you spend any time at track meets with the same starter, you develop a certain sense of the timing on when the starting gun is going to go off. For those of you who have never run in track, the cadence is for Runner to take you marks. This is sign to get into your blocks. Take your time, the next signal won't come until everyone is situated and motionless, and some runners deliberately slow-roll this to discomfit the others. Then the "get set!' command comes, and everyone raises in the blocks to prepare to run. Seconds later the gun fires, and this where the sense of timing can pay dividends.
I was running at a track meet at Ridgefield. I was in the second heat in the 220, and had drawn the inside lane, which meant I was in the back of the pack. The starting lanes are staggered to account for the turn, and the inside guy is a good thirty yards from the starting gun, at least. That's far enough that a sound delay can seriously affect your start. The guy right beside the gun will be in motion before you even hear it. We're told to watch for the smoke, not wait for the gun, but when you're on your toes in blocks, you can hardly raise your head to see the gun.
Right beside me was one of the referees, also with a starting pistol, to watch for false starts. I knew this guy by sight, he'd been a substitute teacher a couple of times at our school, but I didn't know him well. I knew what happened in a false start, though. You heard the starting gun, and almost immediately after a second shot that ended the race. Everyone returns to their places, and whoever false started is removed.
"On your marks!" I shuffled into the blocks, wiggled around and got comfortable.
"Get set!" Up on my toes. Shit, I can't see the gun, all I see are butts in the air. But I was used to this starter, I knew his timing. Wait for it, a one and a two and there we. . . .
My timing was off. I flinched into a start, my hands literally came off the track as I started to launch myself. But, dammit, the gun didn't go off! So I check myself. I swear, my feet never moved. As I was on the down stroke from that, the gun went off. I was delayed for an instant as the downward momentum on my arms was absorbed and I could launch myself. I must have lost a half a second there. I launched out of the blocks, fully expecting to hear a second gun in my ear. Nothing happened.
I won the race, and qualified for the district meet.
It was a week or two later, again at Ridgefield for the district meet. Earlier I had seen the referee who had been right beside me in the previous race, and smiled and nodded a greeting to him. I was near the start with my coach, jumping up and down, getting ready for the race, when he walked up to me. He came pretty close, and said quietly, "You false started last time. Don't let it happen again!"
I just said, "Yes sir!" What else can you say? Helluva guy though.
If you spend any time at track meets with the same starter, you develop a certain sense of the timing on when the starting gun is going to go off. For those of you who have never run in track, the cadence is for Runner to take you marks. This is sign to get into your blocks. Take your time, the next signal won't come until everyone is situated and motionless, and some runners deliberately slow-roll this to discomfit the others. Then the "get set!' command comes, and everyone raises in the blocks to prepare to run. Seconds later the gun fires, and this where the sense of timing can pay dividends.
I was running at a track meet at Ridgefield. I was in the second heat in the 220, and had drawn the inside lane, which meant I was in the back of the pack. The starting lanes are staggered to account for the turn, and the inside guy is a good thirty yards from the starting gun, at least. That's far enough that a sound delay can seriously affect your start. The guy right beside the gun will be in motion before you even hear it. We're told to watch for the smoke, not wait for the gun, but when you're on your toes in blocks, you can hardly raise your head to see the gun.
Right beside me was one of the referees, also with a starting pistol, to watch for false starts. I knew this guy by sight, he'd been a substitute teacher a couple of times at our school, but I didn't know him well. I knew what happened in a false start, though. You heard the starting gun, and almost immediately after a second shot that ended the race. Everyone returns to their places, and whoever false started is removed.
"On your marks!" I shuffled into the blocks, wiggled around and got comfortable.
"Get set!" Up on my toes. Shit, I can't see the gun, all I see are butts in the air. But I was used to this starter, I knew his timing. Wait for it, a one and a two and there we. . . .
My timing was off. I flinched into a start, my hands literally came off the track as I started to launch myself. But, dammit, the gun didn't go off! So I check myself. I swear, my feet never moved. As I was on the down stroke from that, the gun went off. I was delayed for an instant as the downward momentum on my arms was absorbed and I could launch myself. I must have lost a half a second there. I launched out of the blocks, fully expecting to hear a second gun in my ear. Nothing happened.
I won the race, and qualified for the district meet.
It was a week or two later, again at Ridgefield for the district meet. Earlier I had seen the referee who had been right beside me in the previous race, and smiled and nodded a greeting to him. I was near the start with my coach, jumping up and down, getting ready for the race, when he walked up to me. He came pretty close, and said quietly, "You false started last time. Don't let it happen again!"
I just said, "Yes sir!" What else can you say? Helluva guy though.
