I was reading the most recent issue of Sports Illustrated last week and, in the middle of an article about a Japanese baseball pitcher, the journalist quoted the following ancient haiku by the illustrious poet Matsuo Basho:
The old pond
A frog jumps in
The sound of water
The haiku really had nothing to do with the subject of the article, but it was very apropos to me. Just a few days later, on Wednesday, I attempted to break the Guinness frog jumping record at the Frog Pond at the Boston Common. However, my attempt was nothing like the feeling in the poem where everything seems so tranquil, elegant, and eternal. There was no water in the pond (it is used as an ice skating rink in the winter and a wading pool in the summer) and the only sound was me grunting as I tried to hop like a crazed amphibian while awkwardly holding onto my big toes!
As it turned out, the frog jumping record attempt was one of the most unusual events I’ve ever participated in. I have to admit that, going into this attempt, I was quite nervous. The record is for jumping like a frog for 10 meters (about 33 feet) in 11.58 seconds. On several occasions, I was able to go under 11 seconds during a practice session. But there were other times when I got a bad start or my legs were tired and it took me 13 seconds to cover the same distance.
On the day of the event, my legs felt sluggish. With the witnesses and timers all lined up at the Frog Pond and a carpet runner rolled out on the concrete, I tried to clear my mind of doubt and center myself in my heart. At the signal from the official, I took off and once I reached the finish line I knew that my time was too slow. I would try it again, but there wasn’t much hope of doing any better. Being cramped up in the car for hours on the drive up to Boston was probably my undoing. The judges compared stopwatches and then announced the time, “Ashrita, your official time was… 9.5 seconds flat. Congratulations!”
I was so relieved and grateful, but I couldn’t savor the moment for long. A couple of middle-aged ladies from Holland heard all the commotion and came rushing over to the Frog Pond. They were terribly disappointed that they had missed the attempt and they begged me to do it again! I agreed and, although my time was a little slower than my first effort, I still managed to break the old record. I thanked all the officials, rolled up the carpet and prepared to go. I was famished and looking forward to eating a big New England style breakfast at a nearby cafe.
Suddenly, I saw someone frantically waving his hands and running in my direction. It was a photographer from the local newspaper. He had just come from covering another story and, very apologetically, he asked if I could repeat my performance once again! He had so much enthusiasm, I just couldn’t refuse. So, sure enough, we unrolled the carpet, reset the stopwatches and, for a third time, I was able to break the record before falling over at the finish line. It was weird, but in the middle of that third attempt, my jumping became effortless. All that extra hopping had a happy ending. Not only did I learn a new technique, but I gained a deeper appreciation for the energetic little green creatures of the world.
