Flo McArdle

Getting off the plane in Houston after our flight from New York was was like reaching into the oven--that certain blast of air on the face. 

First destination, Corpus Christi: my 3rd Nationals. Their image was muted this year, given scheduling the week before the Olympic Trials in Abilene. The Nationals seemed more like a lead up band prior to the headliners that followed. 

For runners, CC had the convenience of unoccupied student dorms and an available meal plan. Soda machine, si.  Outdoors was a 'Wasteland' at first glance, at least to greenery-accustomed Eastern eyes. Soon I was poking around for a "nature walk". Fortunately, a local dorm staffer clued me in to the presence of scorpions hanging out at the base of certain trees.

On to Abilene. My primary concern was getting through the heats.  At my first Nationals, '58, there were two heats but they assigned winners on times. In the interim, I had missed an entire indoor season due to a bout of Whooping Cough.  The "whoop" was unmistakable but no one I knew had it.  And at age 20?  Embarrassing.  

I tried jerry-rigging at-home exercises so the indoor season wouldn't be a zero. A fave was the "Harvard Bench Step" (already drawn to Ivy-League brands, me). You stepped up and down--one chimpanzee, two chimpanzees--using any surface whose height had the right relation to your knee-to-floor dimension. 

Chez McArdle there were two candidates: the toilet lid & Mom's blanket-storage chest.  A long winter. 

When I  re-emerged for Spring track it was like starting all over again: a one-lap jog was strangely difficult. This is all background to my main concern, as mentioned above: the heats. Would I be able to race hard two days in a row?

As it turned out at Abilene, as fourth-placer in my heat, I didn't get to answer that question. There were three heats, and only the first three from each heat advanced to the final.

I was as experienced as anyone there, having ranked among the top three at Nationals in 1958 and 1959. I had also had the chance to see women's track taken seriously in Europe during a USA vs USSR dual meet. 

And while at first I wore the same track shoes in both training and competition--shoes with a heavy metal plate in the sole so you could replace worn-out spikes without having to buy new shoes, I had learned this wasn't the way to go. By Abilene, I had a lighter, permanent-spike pair of Adidas shoes.

Nor did I suffer any lack of support. Dad was there with me in Abilene, a former track runner himself. Also the self-effacing Mr. Henry Junk came to Abilene. He was the shop teacher and track coach at East NY High School. He and his boys used our home field for training. When he noted that I was the only one in my club preparing for the 800, he would sometimes work me into the pack with his runners.

Abilene proved a downer to my Olympic fantasies. After my one race, the heat, I figured I should at least offset the disappointment of my younger siblings back home by buying them something at the college gift shop. And there it was--a smilingj, Disney-esque tiger face of a pillow sham, complete with the Abilene Christian University logo.

I haven't seen it in decades, but I wouldn't be surprised if it's still resting comfortably deep inside the McArdle blanket chest.