I think I'm more like a bear. Hibernating during the winter months would have suited me well but since there is no way to go into complete hibernation - I stick around physically but go to sleep inside my head, and then feel disgruntled for feeling so slow and sluggish in the head.
There had been some half-written posts but they still need work - so I'll leave those aside. Every time in the recent past that I've thought about writing a post - there is this one odd thought that simply clamours to be written.
I had a quiet Christmas, and some time during the Break - before or after Christmas Day, I don't know - I started thinking about different sporting events. Now many of them make intuitive sense. Running, jumping, even the hurdles race - they make sense, and are sensible sports I think (not the hurdles as much as just plain running - but still...)
Others, such as gymnastics, swimming and diving, inspire a sense of awe within me. To think that the human body is capable of such incredibly complex, lightning fast and smooth motions.
But then I got to pole-vaulting, and I stopped. Growing up when I did it’s hard not to remember the name of the gentleman most closely associated with this 'sport'. The sport itself seems quite ridiculous because it involves agility, coordination, speed, lightness and flexibility and must involve even a certain amount of grace, I'm sure - but to put it in mildly - it is not a graceful sport. Far from it actually.
Who are the folks who decided that pole-vaulting would be a 'sport that made sense'? Run along with this long pole at a great speed. Okay. Throw the pole? No. Keep running. Reach a maximum speed and then sharply, if not smartly, thrust your sturdy pole into the ground - and then use it to spring your body clear over a bar and then land onto a foam mattress.
Then one wonders about the evolution of the sport. Sure, I realise there is some history to it, and that history would not involve men being used as hailing pellets to squash 'the enemy'. One can find if one wants to, information on the net about how men used poles to cross canals instead of taking long-winding routes - yet those poles from so many centuries ago were hard and inflexible - and most importantly where did these brave men land exactly after springing over the barrier that they needed to cross? No foam mattresses were strategically placed on the other side to cushion their fall. Did they break their limbs? Did they break their backs? Did these men receive special training? Could all men perform stunning and ridiculous pole vaults? Was it something as natural as walking and then whistling and saying, 'oh yes, time to grab and run with the pole now and leap over the canal, and then land on my feet...'
Pole vaulting is something that should have been a part of circus performances. There are other sporting events that I find rather ridiculous - yet most of them seem purely ridiculous and little else. The thing with pole vaulting is that it involves the aspects of speed, agility, fluidity, and power - which normally make any other sport graceful and elegant....
Pole vaulting somehow reminds me of playing the harp. At which point does someone decide “My child shall learn how to play the harp.” When does the child say, “I’m going to play the harp, and be the best there is.” So many string instruments to choose from – why the harp? So many track and field sports to choose from – wonder when or why someone says, “Pole vaulting is the one for me.”
And following this most unsportsmanlike/ ‘sportist’ post, maybe I shall stop hibernating inside my head.
