Not necessarily a "dropping the hammer" story but still a great memory from high school. Leading up to the city championship 3200 my junior year I was only an 11:47 guy, so not very fast. In the city meet, I kept on picking off guys one by one and the last 2 laps really put the hurt on myself. When I crossed the finish line I asked the official (after catching my breath) what my time was. He replied with "11:12." Since it was the midway point of the season my coach told me that I should be at around 10:40 by the end of the season. I never got any faster...
onion soup wrote:
Back in high school, I had already run the varsity 5k in 16:20 or something. I then ran in the JV race to help pace my teammate who was trying to get a PR. We were at the front of the pack, and with about 800m to go, one of the coaches yelled to his athlete "He's getting really tired -- pass him!" (referring to me). I was annoyed that I "looked tired", so I bolted and did the last 800m in like 2:15.
well that's pretty selfish of you.
I guess my coach didn't believe how bad I had to sh*t when I told him before the race. He wasn't the type to care about points in duel meets. BUT, he wanted to see me go up against a kid from a school in our league.
The race was only 800 meters, so what the hell, I can hold off. I asked the kid what his plan was. We were running a duel meet, after all. Kid tells me he's not going crazy, just aiming for 2:08, even splits.
Now, I was much better than this kid (1:57 guy, he was ~2:02). So, what the hell, I'll chill, run a couple 64s, and outkick this kid in the last 20m.
Either he lied, or he just felt too good to ease up. I like to believe the latter, because it's a b*tch move to lie about strategy in a duel meet.
Regardless, this kid is running out of his mind. Goes through in 62 and begins pushing from there. He's definitely envisioning a PR. And a win.
But I was a prideful young man. No frigging way am I losing to this chump, no matter how bad my bowels feel.
Approaching the final curve, I'm behind about 10 meters. When I say I dropped the hammer, I mean I DROPPED THE HAMMER. Pushing down the final straight, my feet were barely touching the ground and my flamboyant long hair was flowing hard. All the while I'm clinching my abdominal muscles as hard as I can, to prevent pooping myself.
It was a weird feeling, when I finally let loose. About 5 meters from the line, I've got the win wrapped up, and am actually gonna come across in about 1:58 (not too shabby for a 1:57 guy in a duel meet). Unfortunately, my muscles all relaxed at once, against my will of course. I feel the splat of wet, liquidy, butt juice against the lining of my shorts. And the smell was putrid.
After crossing the line, I ran straight to a porto-john, wiped out my shorts as much as possible, sanitized the crap outta my hands (pun intended) and returned to my team.
I see the kid a couple weeks later at the league championship, and he just smiles at me from across the track. He knew. He knew that although he was not better than me, he had proven himself a worthy opponent. Many runners experienced my thunderous hammer drops. But not many were lucky enough to say they caused me to soil myself. I salute that young man. And to this day, I wonder how his glorious moral victory has carried him through life.
"If you do not get my sister her stories, and a new room as soon as possible than I will come down on this hospital like the hammer of Thor. The thunder of my vengeance will echo through these corridors like the gust of a thousand winds."
Mr. V wrote:
So we are at the national meet. Our team is running the dmr. The 1200 leg looks great we pass the baton off in third I think. Our 400m legs holds things pretty well and our 800m leg gets the stick in fourth. By the end of his leg we are back in second or third. Our mile leg gets the stick and from the get go it's a three team race. Adam's State, Southern Connecticut and Augustana. The is just a pack of three for quite a while but with about three to go the Adams kid makes a pretty solid move (I'm the coach shooting the video) at this point I'm pretty much content with racing for 2nd as we are still with SCSU. about the middle of two laps to go our miler moves up. There are now about 40m between 1st and our miler. At the bell lap there are about 40m still and I'm more than content with getting second. In the next 100m our guy makes up about 30m and I'm just in total shock. With 50m to go our guy catches him and blows by him and ends up winning by 10m.
The side story is the best. The Adams kid crosses the finish line and just hucks his baton into the infield smoking an official in the stomach. Funniest thing I've seen. As a result they get disqualified. Come to find out at the end of the meet Adams loses the national championship to Grand Canyon by 7 pts........... Still its one of the most impressive come from behind victories I've ever seen. The link to the video is below. Check out the mile late in the vide or enjoy the whole race if you like⁄
Nice kick, but his form is odd so there doesn't look like there's any change of pace! So strange. But effective.
I get called up to run varsity 2 mile in a dual meet. Coach tells me I have to get 2nd as we need the points as our mile relay won't win and we will lose the meet. The problem is both teams have a star distance runner and they battle it out for for 1st and 2nd and I hang on for 3rd.
Coach says our 440 runner got hurt in the 220 and I'm needed to run on the mile relay. He says I'll run anchor to give me a little more rest and to just do my best as we are down by a couple of points anyways. I actually get the baton in the lead, but get caught by the 220 mark, by what I find out later was the district 440 champ. I run the best I can, he starts showboating 40 yards from the finish, the crowd goes wild as I pull a miracle, catch the chump and "drop the hammer" 10 feet from the finish before he could react. We win the race, we win the meet (huge upset) I'm a hero, get to run varsity again and earn a letter as a sophmore. Moral of the story is don't piss off some young punk showboating down the stretch.
Two Stories. Backstory: I'm a 400m Hurdler
It was my senior year of high school, and it was my last time to perform at home in front of friends and family. The gun went off for the 300 meter hurdles and I went off. I was in lane 1 and made up even the lane 8 stagger before the top of the curve. Needless to say, going out that fast made me really tired the last 50 meters. I had a good enough lead to pretty much lock the win though. To my horror, the unthinkable happens. Going over the last hurdle, my leg caught the hurdle in all the wrong ways and I face planted on the track. That's when I dropped the hammer and crawled like a damn beast to the finish line, barely winning the race. (Thankfully, there's only 10 meters left after the last hurdle)
That same year, during summer track, I entered myself in the 800 just because I wanted to try it. Before that, the last time I ran the 800 was my sophomore year of high school where I ran a 2:14. So really, as a long sprinter, I didn't have a clue. And looking at me, my competitors knew I didn't have a clue. I was this guy in a speed suit and sprint spikes that looked out of place. I remember one guy poking fun at me though I don't recall what he said. To make a short story shorter... The gun went off for the 800 and that's when I dropped the hammer! I led from beginning to end and ran 1:58... I know dropping the hammer usually suggests some sort of kick; but I was naive at the time and just ran my ass off from the beginning; not knowing that as a sprinter, my best bet would have been to stay back and out-kick later.
I was tired.
It was summer track 4x4. While in the staging area my team acted like a bunch mentally challenged people, drooling and walking like we had issues. The other teams were pointing and laughing at us. When we got on the track they said we should be in the special olympics. Needless to say we won and still have the age group AAU record. All four of us DROPPED THE HAMMER. Geat fun.
high school senior year 3k districts. group of 4 who had all ran under 9 came through the mile at 4:45 then I came out with a 62 5th lap and cruised the last 600m for the W.
Roughrider Invitational, frosh/soph boys 2.1 mile race, 2000
At the 1 mile mark, I was in about 20th place and about 10 seconds behind the leaders; I thought I was done because the opening mile pace was fast and seemingly out of control.
I realized my best option was to just try picking off runners one by one, focusing on the next one ahead of me as I passed each one. Eventually, runners started coming back to me, and with about 600m left, I had caught up to the lead group passing them as I caught up to them.
Within a 400m stretch, I got abot 10-20 meters on the group, and when I hit the grass (about 150m left) that's when I dropped the hammer and put it all out there. I was happy with my time of 11:28 (after a 5:16 opening mile- the leaders probably went through in about 5:00-5:05). I didn't think I would win but I seemed to have a better inuitive since of my own pace than the leaders did.
I'm a construction worker and was doing a simple job (small, single-story farm house in a rural area). I asked my crew to bring back some lunch for me, as I was on a ladder working on the fenestration up front. They scoffed and said I'd have to get lunch for myself: so, I dropped a hammer on them from about 12 feet up. Sick stuff, man.
Perfection. I salute you.
While running in a half marathon in my city last fall, I turned the last corner heading for home. The finish line announcer-who was announcing finisher's names as they headed down the stretch-said " Here come's Newsfour anchorman John Doe." Then Mr. Doe(Not his real name) starts waving to the crowd like he's the Prince of Wales. Needless to say, I DROPPED THE HAMMER and blew by him as if he was daydreaming about the weather girl during the evening newscast. How'd that 212th place taste, pretty boy?
Long time ago Ran the Manny Hanny (Manufacturers Hanover) 3.5 mile with a team from our running club all of whom worked for the same university. On the line was a free trip--air fare, lodging, two meals a day, and social events--to NYC for the championship.
First came the hammer, then came the dismissing and such.
At the regional we had four in the top 10 and 5th was in the top 20, so we easily won.
Not five minutes after finishing a guy from a Fortune 500 company rushes up and asked, "you're not for real are you? you're a university team!"
No, I replied that we were a full team and we were legit. He stomped away muttering and swearing.
Two months later in NYC at the greeting social the Fortune 500 company had a coed and women's team. So we started talking to them and they got snide and said that they had done a background check on all of us and appealed, saying that a university is not a corporation. This was a private school, and indeed did count as a corporation.
We just shrugged, laughed, and said "sorry suckas." Same guy as before got up and stalked away and didn't speak to any of us for the rest of the weekend--but the women did!
My first 4x4 ever.. I was an 800m only runner, and I was needed as a substitute because the other 4x4 runner hurt himself. I was 130 lbs and 5'10", a lanky 800m runner compared to the buff sprinters I volunteered because I wanted to see what I could do, and I was running 3rd leg. I was nervous as hell, and when I saw my teammate approaching I started taking off. I grabbed the baton, and the opposing team had a 40 meter lead on us at this point. I took off, sprinting as hard as I could... I remember passing him within the first 100 already despite the massive lead they had on us. I kept holding on, and I knew that I took it out way too hard and that I was dying, but I just kept pushing. Handed our anchor the baton and walked off the track exhausted. Turns out I split 23.5 for my first 200 and 27.7 for the last 200. I didn't even know I could run 23.5 even though I had already run 2:00 that day and pr'd in the 800.
When I was 4, my family organized the annual Easter Egg Hunt at a golf club resort. The eggs were being picked fast and furious. There was this one girl who was maybe 4 yrs and 2 months old (a month older than me) who had 15 eggs in her basket already. I had 14 and there were only 3 more eggs to be discovered. Plus 20 kids just like us fighting to the finish. That's when something snapped in me and I just honed in on one egg as if guided by a mysterious unseen force and then the other and the next. 3 eggs in 2 minutes 59 seconds flat. The crowd just went berserk.!! Shouting my name - Joey! Joey! Joey!. It felt good dropping the hammer. I think I got my kick and killer instincts from my dad who used to be Tiger Woods golfing buddy. The little girl was upset and started crying but then I gave her one of my KitKat bars and she was happy. Later we all went to the resort's kids room to watch Bugs Bunny cartoons.
After reading this thread, I went for a run with my girlfriend. She is a step ahead of me as we hit the 2 mile mark of our 3 mile run, and I am thinking we are a little fast. Sure enough, the watch is reading 19:56. I get right on her shoulder and then proceed to DROP THE HAMMER 6 blocks from home. I am the only one with keys, so I go in the house and take a shower before letting her in just so she can take some time to comprehend what exactly happened to her.
psyched up wrote:
I am the only one with keys, so I go in the house and take a shower before letting her in just so she can take some time to comprehend what exactly happened to her.
Not to worry. I lent her my big broad shoulders to cry on.
This happened in a 10K a couple years ago, at a big invitational. Another guy in the race was getting paced for a national record. It was supposed to be a show between him and the clock, with a good pacer and a couple decent guys (not from our country) trying to compete with him. I hadn't run a 10K before (don't really have the 'build' for it) and was just doing it for some experience, so naturally I wasn't a contender, but I knew I was fit and I'm extremely competitive so it was in the back of my mind that I wanted to stick with him.
The pace goes out a little shaky at first, a couple quick laps, a couple slow ones, but I'm sticking right on a pack of about 8-10. A couple of them slowly drop. We hit the 5K right on pace with the leaders and I'm surprised how good I feel.
At this point I'm starting to get some stomach cramps so I thought about just dropping out. But aerobically I'm feeling good so I try to just battle through it. Pacer drops out, my training partner (who's training for a marathon) starts to fade off the back too (although he's still on pace for his nation's record). Sure enough, my cramp goes away and I get a shot of adrenaline. If anything it distracted me for a few laps. My countryman has been driving the train in front ever since 5K, and I get a sense that I'm feeling even better than the other two guys. Around 1200 to go I get the itch to lead and slowly creep up on the leader, even tripped him up once or twice on accident.
With about 900 to go I move to the front. Knowing it was the point of no return, I DROPPED THE HAMMER!!!!!!!!!!!!!! And slammed home a 1:55 800. Broke 27. Won by 11 seconds. Got the national record for myself. Dude who led got 4th in the race, still a good one but he didn't match anyone's kick that day.
Those were the glory days. Like many of these stories, the other dude is now extremely successful and I haven't done much in the last year. Hoping to change that but I got catching up to do again.