Monday, August 29, 2011
Interview with Lynn Jennings
I had the pleasure last week of interviewing Lynn Jennings, by e-mail, prior to her appearance at the Chaptico Classic in Southern Maryland. The piece ran as a cover story in the weekend guide I produce for the Gazette's Southern Maryland Newspapers.
The video above shows the late laps of the women's 10,000 at the 1992 Barcelona Olympics. Jennings was incredible in cross country, winning three straight world titles from 1990 to 1992. The bronze medal she earned in Barcelona, though, was her career-defining achievement. (You will find some great reading on Jenning's in Sports Illustrated's The Vault.)
I wrote to Jennings: "I watched the 10,000 from the 1992 Olympics on YouTube yesterday. One thing that grabbed me was the fact that Zhong Huandi of China gave you a serious challenge for the bronze medal. What was going through your mind in the final lap of the race, the final 200 meters, the final stretch?"
Jennings wrote, "Yes, it's true. She chased me right to the line and I had NO idea she was hot on my heels. In fact, I was so busy sprinting the final 100 meters that I neglected to look up at the JumboTron to ascertain I was safe. I knew I had put distance between myself and Liz McColgan [of Scotland] when I launched my kick. If I had slowed down prior to the finish line, I would have been pipped and would not have earned the bronze medal. I knew that Liz was unlikely to match me for a strong kick finish. My plan was to stick with her until 400 to go and then launch my kick, which I did at 300 meters remaining. I drove hard to the line and did not stop to think "I've won a medal" until a minute or two after I had crossed the line. I finished, put my hands on my knees and bent over. When I looked next to me Zhong Huandi was standing right there and I was stunned. Then I realized that I had actually earned the bronze."
Another cool thing about this video is that it introduced me to Derartu Tulu, who ran away with the gold. Tulu, then 20, was the first black African woman to win a gold medal.
Now get this: Tulu is still competing. In 2009, at 37, she became the first Ethiopian woman to win the New York City Marathon.
I somehow missed this story entirely - but I find it to be incredibly inspiring stuff.
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
Back on Dwight's Feet
This was my final project for Backpack Journalism, as part of my Interactive Journalism master's program at American University.
Runners will tell you all the time: Running, rather than something else, is their addiction. Running, they claim, is what holds off their demons.
That wasn't how when it went down in Dwight Scriber's first running life. But in the past few months since Scriber has reconnected to running through a nonprofit organization called Back on My Feet, the sport - and more so the community surrounding it - has proven to be transformational. The 45-year-old resident of Washington, D.C., is on a mission to stay drug free and claim his own place to call home.
Growing up in St. Mary's County, Md., the youngest of 10 siblings, Scriber fell into the wrong crowd at an early age. But for many years his talent - both in athletics and academics - kept him on a solid enough path. At Leonardtown High School, Scriber was most interested in basketball - but a falling out with the coach, he said, led him to pursue track and field his junior year. Scriber, in short time, became one of the best high school runners in Maryland; he would go on to earn Division III NCAA All-American status at Frostburg State University.
For most runners, reaching such heights in the sport requires a kind of eat-sleep-train focus that keeps them on the straight and narrow. Scriber, on the other hand, was able to train hard and party harder. By the time he left Frostburg his junior year, drug addiction was taking hold and his downward spiral was only beginning.
A couple decades later, attempting to evade arrest, Scriber found himself in a high speed chase with police. He was charged with first and second degree assault and traffic violations, and ended up serving six months in jail. It was not the first time Scriber had been locked up, he said. He had tried rehab before, too. But these days Scriber is serious: "It's my life," he often says.
In jail "I had looked at my age," Scriber said. "I had looked at what I had lost, what I had gained, what I didn't gain. I looked at the whole perspective. When you are in jail, there's things you can get into, and I chose not to be around the negative people; I chose just to focus on me. I chose to reflect on what I've done - and I just didn't like the picture, man."
After his release, Scriber left his native county and moved into the District. He lived for several months at La Casa, a transitional recovery program for men who seek to permanently end their homelessness. It's there, meanwhile, that Scriber found out about Back on My Feet, which engages participants in La Casa and other transitional facilities in distance running as a stepping stone toward recovery.
"I had always prayed to God that one day I would get back into running," Scriber said.
Although he has since moved into an apartment with his brother, Scriber has continued to attend Back on My Feet's three weekly 5:45 a.m. practices at La Casa. After 30 days in Back on My Feet, members with 90 percent attendance become eligible for educational and job training opportunities as well as financial aid.
"Things happen for a reason," Scriber said. "[God] is my director. He's going to lead my paths. But there are certain things I must do for him to meet me. He's put a hedge of protection over me, man. You're talking about a guy who had guns pointed at him, high speed chases ... I'm way ahead of the game to be honest with you. I'm grateful, truly grateful."
Scriber is not entirely back on his feet yet. Though he has found part-time work in telemarketing, the wages are roughly half of what he made before his last arrest, after which he lost his commercial driver's license.
"My goals are to go back to school," he said. "I want to be in the human services. I want to be able to help somebody who has been through my situation."
Runners will tell you all the time: Running, rather than something else, is their addiction. Running, they claim, is what holds off their demons.
That wasn't how when it went down in Dwight Scriber's first running life. But in the past few months since Scriber has reconnected to running through a nonprofit organization called Back on My Feet, the sport - and more so the community surrounding it - has proven to be transformational. The 45-year-old resident of Washington, D.C., is on a mission to stay drug free and claim his own place to call home.
Growing up in St. Mary's County, Md., the youngest of 10 siblings, Scriber fell into the wrong crowd at an early age. But for many years his talent - both in athletics and academics - kept him on a solid enough path. At Leonardtown High School, Scriber was most interested in basketball - but a falling out with the coach, he said, led him to pursue track and field his junior year. Scriber, in short time, became one of the best high school runners in Maryland; he would go on to earn Division III NCAA All-American status at Frostburg State University.
For most runners, reaching such heights in the sport requires a kind of eat-sleep-train focus that keeps them on the straight and narrow. Scriber, on the other hand, was able to train hard and party harder. By the time he left Frostburg his junior year, drug addiction was taking hold and his downward spiral was only beginning.
A couple decades later, attempting to evade arrest, Scriber found himself in a high speed chase with police. He was charged with first and second degree assault and traffic violations, and ended up serving six months in jail. It was not the first time Scriber had been locked up, he said. He had tried rehab before, too. But these days Scriber is serious: "It's my life," he often says.
In jail "I had looked at my age," Scriber said. "I had looked at what I had lost, what I had gained, what I didn't gain. I looked at the whole perspective. When you are in jail, there's things you can get into, and I chose not to be around the negative people; I chose just to focus on me. I chose to reflect on what I've done - and I just didn't like the picture, man."
After his release, Scriber left his native county and moved into the District. He lived for several months at La Casa, a transitional recovery program for men who seek to permanently end their homelessness. It's there, meanwhile, that Scriber found out about Back on My Feet, which engages participants in La Casa and other transitional facilities in distance running as a stepping stone toward recovery.
"I had always prayed to God that one day I would get back into running," Scriber said.
Although he has since moved into an apartment with his brother, Scriber has continued to attend Back on My Feet's three weekly 5:45 a.m. practices at La Casa. After 30 days in Back on My Feet, members with 90 percent attendance become eligible for educational and job training opportunities as well as financial aid.
"Things happen for a reason," Scriber said. "[God] is my director. He's going to lead my paths. But there are certain things I must do for him to meet me. He's put a hedge of protection over me, man. You're talking about a guy who had guns pointed at him, high speed chases ... I'm way ahead of the game to be honest with you. I'm grateful, truly grateful."
Scriber is not entirely back on his feet yet. Though he has found part-time work in telemarketing, the wages are roughly half of what he made before his last arrest, after which he lost his commercial driver's license.
"My goals are to go back to school," he said. "I want to be in the human services. I want to be able to help somebody who has been through my situation."
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)