I best your not surprised to see me in a helmet surrounded by padding with a mildly stupid look on my face. You're thinking, "it finally happened and they finally put the crazy where he belongs. I hate to disappoint, but alas I have cleverly eluded capture up to this point, and plan to abstain from becoming a ward of the state for many years to come. This picture was taken during my brief stint as a pole vaulter. I'll let that sink in. I know it is hard to believe but I was once a lighter man and via something that could hardly be called a sprint, that ended it what is a pale substitute for a leap, I was able to hurl myself over a 11 foot high poll and sometime safely back down to earth. Though frequent I would hit the metal standards, or simply crash into the track, and in one memorable instance freak out at the peak of a 12 foot attempt and come smashing coccyx first into concrete resulting in what a chiropractor assumed to be a cracked rib, but was later proved to be bone bruising. The good ole days.