Great shot of Usain Bolt with a cheetah cub:

Great shot of Usain Bolt with a cheetah cub:

Inhuman. Usain Bolt breaks the unbreakable record again, by a ton. 19.19 in the 200m. The gap he opens up in this race, oh my.
Here’s an HD video of Usain Bolt crushing his own world record in the 100 meters. 9.58! Tyson Gay turns in the third-fastest time in history at 9.71.
Could this guy be more fun to watch? Usain Bolt turns in a 19.59 in Lausanne, in the rain, into a headwind. The Science of Sport has some good commentary.
Usain Bolt lays waste to another world record, this time the 150 meters. Watching the race brings back Olympic déjà vu; total destruction of the field. Here’s the Science of Sport’s take. I wonder if he can score a WR in the 400 too? He’d need to take like 2.5 seconds off his personal best, I think. Michael Johnson thinks he can do it.
P.S. Here’s the super slow-motion replay of his 100m Olympic final again. Even slowed way down his feet spend such a remarkably short amount of time on the ground, and I love watching the clock tick down as he runs past it.
The Big Picture, The Year 2008 in Photographs (part 1 of 3). Use the “j” and “k” keys to navigate through these. Really nice UI touch, so much better than using Page Up/Down or the scrollbar. Can’t believe I didn’t notice that before. The “graphic content” filter is nicely done too.
Some heartbreaking shots in there.
P.S. Part 2 is up. Ouch. Plus some Usain Bolt action.
P.P.S. Part 3. That can’t really be what the moon looks like from Tibet, can it? Long exposure?
Nice little piece in The NY Times on the importance of relaxation to performance. They site the Michael Phelps example, of course, but I'd point to the Usain Bolt/Asafa Powell example as the more glaring one. As Anthony Lane put it in his opening paragraph to his excellent piece on the Olympics:
The morning of Friday, August 15th, was one of unaccustomed freshness in Beijing, and it brought forth two objects, both wreathed in legend but hitherto hard to spot. The first was a boiling ball of gases some ninety-three million miles away, known as the sun. The second was the sprinter Usain Bolt, whose homeland lies more than eight thousand miles away, in Jamaica, but who was now a hundred and thirty metres from where I sat. I was close to the finish line of the hundred-metre track, and he was at the start, awaiting his first heat of the Games, and going through his pre-race routine: glancing to the heavens and beating a brief tattoo, with his index fingers, on an invisible drum. He shimmied on the spot, revving his muscles, as all athletes like to do--the most febrile being Rafael Nadal, the young minotaur of the tennis circuit, who hops up and down, before every match, like a small boy in need of a pee. Bolt's nerves were less twitchy than that. Indeed, from this first heat up to the final, the following night, he seemed to be participating less in an Olympic sport than in a gargantuan party, which happened to have a sporting theme. My deepest fear was that he would break the world record and then test positive for rum and Coke.
Lane's first article is even better. Read 'em both (although it's a bit after-the-fact now).
I'm Jim Biancolo, and this is my weblog. It's mostly links to stuff I find interesting (here are some of my favorites), but some stuff is mine. I also created Listology in the previous millennium (raised it from a pup but I stopped playing with it and I feel bad so I'm giving it away to a good home), and the fitness weblog Lean & Hungry Fitness, which is gone, subsumed, but it was a cool domain while it lasted.
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