Hey, everybody, anyone up for talking about how fast I can run? I think that sounds like a cool idea, especially in terms of who I am: an Olympic runner with a super-inspirational story. Over the course of my life I’ve talked a lot about how fast I am, and people always seem to be pretty intrigued by it. So let’s just talk for a while about how I’m this really fast runner.
Why not, right?
The truth is, I could talk about how fast I can run for hours. It’s not uncomfortable for me at all. In fact, it’s one of the things I’m most comfortable talking about. I’ve actually been thinking about this a lot lately: If I could spend the rest of my life talking exclusively about my running, how fast I run, and how I got to be this great, world-class athlete, I’d be perfectly happy with that. Overjoyed, even.
You know what? Let me show you how fast I can run. I’ll just start running back and forth, you can watch, and then we could talk about how fast I was. Do you want me to do that? It’s not a problem in the slightest. Heck, if it gets us on the topic of my fast running, I’m game.
Guess what? I can run the 400 meters in 45.44 seconds. That’s very fast. My times are just another subject I’d absolutely love to talk about. No skin off my back. It just opens up a multitude of other running subjects, such as my personal best times, how I shaved off crucial seconds with changes to my running mechanics, and how hard I worked in order to get in shape to compete against the world’s best runners.
Wanna talk about that stuff?
Or we could talk about overcoming adversity. You may not know this, but I don’t have any legs. When I was just 11 months old, doctors had to amputate my legs below the knees, and in order to run I had to be fitted for special prosthetic blades, which earned me the nickname “Blade Runner.”
Want to talk about my cool nickname? Or about how I was the first double leg amputee to compete in the Olympics? Or how I set world records in the Paralympics? Or how I fought the International Association of Athletic Federations to prove that my prosthetic limbs didn’t give me an unfair advantage?
I could talk about all that until the cows come home. In fact, every other possible topic of conversation related to me is pretty boring compared to the stuff about me being a fast runner. Don’t you think so? I think so.
Work ethic. My goodness, that’s a whole other part of my story that you have to know. I practically lived at the track. I ate the right diet, listened to my coaches, and I pushed myself to the limit every single day. Isn’t that interesting? Do you want to talk about that? Can we please talk about that? If we did, I wouldn’t be surprised if, when you heard my name, all you thought about was me sprinting around the track, going home, immediately going to bed, and going right back in the morning to work on my running.
Wanna race? I’ll race you. No better entry point to a discussion about my running than racing me one-on-one. I’ll hop on a plane tomorrow, fly to your house, and race you up and down your block. That’s how much I want to be talking about my running right now.
Here are some other topics I would absolutely love to talk about: how I didn’t give up after I failed to qualify for the 2008 Olympics. How I never lost sight of my dreams. How I stayed mentally strong when people told me I’d never achieve what I wanted to achieve. How I’m the pride of a nation. How I’m this handsome, inspiring guy who beat all the odds to become one of the world’s fastest runners. How I’m a multimillionaire.
Want to talk about all that? We could. Nothing stopping us. It’s fascinating stuff.
If you’ll indulge me, I could talk for hours about how running gave me hope. Or about how I was chosen to carry the South African flag for the Olympic closing ceremony. Or about how I fell in love with my beautiful supermodel girlfriend.
