Seventh Day on the Ground: Long Jump Competition - A Dad's Diary - August 28th, 2021

This blog post originated from Clayton’s Frech’s personal Facebook page. He is chronicling his journey as a dad with his son that is headed to Tokyo.

As I write this post, I am really emotional… I am literally tearing up with pride. Yeah, maybe I am a little sleep deprived from a long day and long night yesterday too, maybe there’s a little delirium going on, but mostly just pride.

Pure pride. My son is officially a Paralympian. My son is the 8th best above knee long jumper in the world. I am trying to take this in and appreciate this moment. He’ll never be a 16 year-old Paralympian again.

But this kid, this child, this young man has given the sport he loves everything he could possibly give. He has sacrificed things that I would never have sacrificed as a teenager. He’s the hardest working 16 year-old you will meet, hands down, anywhere in the world. He’s a disciplined as they come. He hasn’t eaten sugar in well over a year, maybe two years. He’s dialed in his sleep schedule. His mental game is on point. His recovery process is strong. He does little exercises in between big workouts to strengthen parts of the body I didn’t know needed to be strengthened. He rarely goes out late with his friends.

He dreams big. He takes in guidance and coaching and wisdom from everyone around him. He researches ways he can be better, bigger, stronger, fast, more flexible. He’s fearless in pursuit of what he wants. He goes after his dreams with such fervor, such passion, and such relentlessness… that I think we can all learn a lot from him.

And last night, while he enjoyed the moment and did his best, he was definitely disappointed in his performance. He wanted to be the first American to break the 6M mark. He wanted a higher place (he was also 8th place in the Long Jump at World Championships in 2019). We knew it was a long shot to get to the podium.

But as I told him last night, I honestly don’t care about medals, placements, rankings, or records as much as I care about how he carries himself.

What I saw last night was a beautiful performance from a beautiful child. It reminded me of when he was 9 years old, in 2014, we were at Junior Nationals. He raced the 100M and he smoked all the other kids. Like, destroyed them. (side note, he’s been dominating at youth track meets since he was 8 years old and holds dozens of age group records in many events)

And I was filming him and I can’t remember if I turned off the camera or I kept filming. But I remember this moment so clearly. He finishes his race, whips around, and jogs back to the finish line to high-five the other kids as they crossed the finish line behind him. I started crying out of love, honor, and joy. To see the kindness coming from him made my heart melt.

This was the same boy I saw compete last night. Sure, he didn’t have the best jump day possible. That’s ok. He has to learn that not every day is your best jump day. The late, great, Angela Madsen counseled him after a so-so 100M race in 2015 or 2016 on this very topic. That day he was crying he was so upset that he didn’t set a personal record. I feel blessed that he’s literally had the benefit of learning from legends.

But that boy from junior nationals jumped last night. He was joyful, positive, and enjoying the moment. He was supporting his fellow competitors giving them love and encouragement.

And while he was captivating all night, the moment I will remember forever was after his 6th and final attempt, where he confirmed his 8th place finish, he didn’t walk back to the staging area and sulk. He sat right near the jump pit (near where I was), found a random chair, and watched the rest of the guys jump.

And as each athlete came off the pit and walked back towards the staging area, he would pop up, give them a hug or a handshake, congratulate them and offer some words of love and positivity.

I mean, seriously. Who does that?

This is what makes me proud. This is the boy we are raising, who intuitively understands his role is to lift up everyone else. To give everyone else support, love, and inspiration to chase their dreams. To be there when others are down. To celebrate when others achieve their dreams. To be engaging, present, and alive for these moments.

He accomplished this and more. He won a gold medal in my mind when it comes to bringing love, camaraderie, and demonstrating the highest level of sportsmanship possible. I am deeply honored to be his father.

I may try to write another blog post for this day, as it was pretty amazing and special to experience the preparation, the travel, the warm-up track, etc. with him. But I am going to leave it here for now.

God bless this child as he serves as a role model and example for us all to follow.

Photos attached of the infamous "chair" he found and his interactions with his fellow competitors.

Clayton

---