Paradocracy

The fastest 60 meter split in track & field history was set by Su Bingtian in a semifinal heat at the 2021 Tokyo Olympics. A recent YouTube video covers the story in spectacular fashion. While I wouldn't dare to diminish the veracity of the story, nor its worthiness to be shared, it demands further exploration into the implications about performance and the sport of track & field.

Undoubtedly, most people who watch inspirational YouTube videos are distinctly unfamiliar with the actual mechanics of the topic at hand; in fact, most are amenable to the story simply because they want to be inspired. Because of this, most people are left taking the story at face value, never to question the narrative. 

What the story truly achieves is distinctly different from the portrayal of a titan of the sport. The story of Su Bingtian highlights what is possible when a person maintains unwavering commitment to his goals. His story stresses the importance of making calculated changes and adjustments to one's training and preparation, even one's perspective on his own life; and, above all, the story hints at the importance of being reasonable with oneself while focusing on personal betterment and remaining openminded to the possibilities, as opposed to being focused exclusively on becoming the best in the world or otherwise succumbing to established norms. 

Where the narrative fails, however, is in drawing on racial stereotypes and emphasizing a 60-meter split en route to 100 meters. In fact, the very mention of these details stands to undermine much of the broader theme. More than any other sport, track & field is a meritocracy. In this sport, the most important determining factor is the individual; likewise, the most important limiting factor in realizing one's potential is the individual who stands in his own way. Nobody, not a single person in the world, can prevent any individual from succeeding in the sport of track & field. 

Regardless of ethnicity or any other factor, anybody can compete in this sport. Just like any other sport, activity or industry, however, different cultures and different parts of the world differ in their preferences: whereas one demographic prioritizes one activity or direction in life, another demographic stands to emphasize another. This is just as true of Asians as it is true of Americans, Germans, Russians, and even every subgroup within these demographics across the globe. Wherever Asians or any other people struggle to compete on the world stage in the sport of track & field, it is for reasons inherent not just in biology, but in culture and preferences. 

The sport of track & field, although important to some, needn't for any particular reason be important to anybody. It's a sport, and just like any other activity, it is not the basis nor the purpose of life. For this reason, it says little about the quality of any people if their so-called demographic lacks adequate representation at the Olympics. In the case of Asians, most prioritize academics and career advancement over athletic achievement. In still other cases, many people across the globe prioritize family and community over the same. Nobody has any authority over the purpose of life, other than the person who possesses authority over himself. Whether that person is inspired by the story of an athlete, or whether he's indifferent to it, it's a decision in his power alone. 

In fact, he may rightly decide that the world is hardly any better off with an additional sub-10 second 100m sprinter; that his time is better spent with his family, at work, or in prayer. There is nothing inherently wrong about this decision, and any claim to the contrary, which asserts, in this case, that there aren't enough Asians running below 10 seconds in the 100m, conveniently ignores or blatantly disregards this point. In all likelihood, the world would be a far better place if all mothers and fathers were as passionate about their children as Olympic hopefuls are about their sports. Next, the narrative betrays one of the primary themes of track & field and, more importantly, life.

In track & field, as in life, there is little value in starting well without finishing the task. Quite like starting a fitness regimen around the new year, it's not important to just start the routine; it's important to continue throughout the year. In their emphasis of Su's 60-meter split, we find a betrayal of this important theme, as well as a gross misapprehension of the sport of track & field. While I hesitate because of an otherwise wonderful story, it's worth truly appreciating this part of the story because of its implications, both intellectual and for the sport and history of track & field.

Although Su's 60 meter split is impressive, those who've competed at a high level in the sport of track & field appreciate the distinction between a 60m event and a 60 meter split in a 100m race. First, the 60m event is exclusively hosted at indoor track meets; in particular for sprints, indoor competitions are typically slower than their outdoor counterparts. Additionally, indoor competition is far less serious than outdoor competition. For this reason and the accompanying financial incentives, insofar as they compete at all on the indoor circuit, the top athletes generally use the indoor season to prepare for outdoor competition. This means that the top sprinters in the world are rarely at their best during the indoor season, opting instead to train through those competitions. 

Finally, where the top sprinters in the world are primed to run their best, they stand to run 100m and 200m events in their entirety, not in order to generate an impressive split en route. These sprinters are not just sprinting to the 60m mark; they're aiming to maintain the speed achieved at 60m through the finish line. As fast and impressive as his 60m split was in the 2021 semifinal, he faded considerably throughout his final 40m. If the top sprinters in history set out in peak fitness to run their best ever 60m en route to 100m, the world record would invariably be faster. However, this is never the case; and unless the outdoor championships elect to add a 60m event, this will never be the case in track & field. 

For this reason, it's no surprise that the names found among the fastest ever 100m performances are the most accomplished sprinters in the sport's history; in the history of the 60m event, on the other hand, while one is destined to find world-class athletes, they are distinctly inferior to the athletes gracing the record books in the 100m. This is because the world's best sprinters compete in the 100m, and they compete at their best at championships where they set out to run their best across the entire 100m stretch, not just to 60m with the hope of holding on. It's also worth noting that the 100m event is virtually always dominated by the sprinter with the best top speed. In this regard, Su is distinctly slower than the world's best. 

While Su is irrefutably one of the fastest sprinters of all time, he will be remembered only for his performance on the Asian circuit, as he never stood on the podium in international competition. It's also worth noting that technology, more so now than at any other time in recent memory, is playing a significant role in improvements within the sport of track & field. For this reason, we have to be careful when evaluating performances on the basis of time: whereas technology has progressively improved over the decades, the marked improvements over the past several years have accelerated performances on the track. 

Time comparisons are merited only upon successfully controlling for the important variables, which have become far more difficult to control in the face of such rapid growth in technology. This is to say that we can best approximate athletes' performances relative to their own competition, whereas comparisons across generations will, for a variety of reasons, virtually always favor athletes of the modern era. All of this is to say that, while Su's performances are notable, they are inadequate to place him among the absolute best in the history of the sport. While his times on the track are undoubtedly among the best ever recorded, they are substantially inferior to the world's best; they are, in the course of controlling for the variables, incomparable across generations; and the fanfare surrounding his story, more than anything, represents a gross misapprehension about the sport. 

While Su might rightly stand as an inspiration for many aspiring athletes, or broadly any aspiring people anywhere, it's important to extend to the sport of track & field the respect it deserves when assessing performances on the basis of time. There's a reason that Su never won a medal in international competition, and the reason lends itself to further exploration into the history and nuances of the sport. For every athlete featured or dramatized in film, there are countless thousands with their own impressive stories: ones that only precious few will ever hear. 

The sport of track & field, in particular, is one such sport wherein countless thousands of athletes are struggling daily in pursuit of their athletic ambitions. Unlike other sports, track & field appeals internationally to athletes who are unsponsored and toiling for years, even decades, to afford themselves a chance at realizing their dreams. Unlike sports that are more team-oriented, track & field demands of the individual everything he or she personally possesses in talent and work ethic: weaknesses or deficiencies in either case will invariably emerge in the course of this endeavor. 

In the sport of track & field, the athlete's every performance depends upon his own preparation: nobody can bail him out. There is no teammate who can pick him up; there are no breaks in competition; and there is no relief from poor performances. Whereas athletes and coaches in other sports can feasibly make adjustments to accommodate an athlete on a bad day, the track & field athlete is afforded no such option. He is on full display each and every time he toes the line. The only relief comes in the form of crossing the finish line, hopefully sooner than later, or withdrawing from the race. 

For the track & field athlete, however, even these fail to offer any true relief. Instead, under virtually any set of circumstances, even in the face of victory, the track & field athlete is always reflecting to determine what he could've done differently to perform better. He is seldom satisfied with the results. Whereas the basketball or football player rejoices with his teammates after a win, the track & field athlete is left with his thoughts after rejoicing for just a brief moment after the race. He is never satisfied for more than a few minutes after the race. After all, once he's satisfied, his best days are likely behind him. 

This is the long slog of being a track & field athlete, a virtually endless endeavor toward the elusive, in hopes that one day he can reflect proudly on his career and the effort that went into it. Suffice it to say, there are more of these stories than any narrative or series could ever hope to capture. Su's story is one of them, a testament to the character of the sport and the kinds of people who contribute to its legacy.