Foster’s Pain Worse Than He Feared

Santa Monica doctor Robert Forster’s business card reads: Physical therapist. Bicycling, running and dance injuries. Conditions of the lower back.

Doctor Bob also treats broken arms.

Broken arms that have just had 54 surgical staples removed.

Broken arms that still have four plates in them, fastened together with four screws.

Broken arms that are supposed to be encased in full-length plaster casts, or at least in less confining plastic casts, if only the patient would wear them.

Broken arms that still require electrical stimulation, ultrasound therapy and lots and lots of ice, just to reduce the swelling, relax the muscles and make more bearable the pain.

Arms like Greg Foster’s.

On the Fourth of July, during a track workout, Foster, one of America’s foremost hurdlers, broke his left arm in two places. He had surgery.

Three days later, he was released from the hospital. He went home that night and rode his stationary bike.

Next morning, he went jogging. He even tried jumping over 36-inch hurdles.

Exactly two weeks later, 18 days after taking a spill that should have bumped him from the Olympic Games, Greg Foster was back running two 110-meter hurdle heats in the U.S. Olympic trials--running with his left arm wrapped only in tape--and successfully qualifying for today’s semifinal race.

In pain.

Such pain.

“I wish I could say it doesn’t hurt, but it does,” Foster said. “It’s worse than I thought it would be.”

The pain was so awful, even worse than Foster imagined it would be, that he crumpled to the track when Friday’s second race was run, just because the arm seemed to throb a little less if he could lie flat and thrust it in the air.

The pain was so awful, increasing with each step of the race, that it was nearly too much to endure even for Foster, of whom Dr. Forster says: “Greg has the highest pain tolerance of any athlete I’ve ever worked with, and I’m not just saying that because he’s hurt now.”

The pain was so awful, with the arm dangling uselessly at his side or being kicked by the trail leg of the runner to his left, the UCLA alumnus even reluctantly decided that he would wear a brace on the arm for today’s 11:45 a.m., PDT, race--a race that could carry Foster into tonight’s final if he can place in the top four.

And then, by finishing first, second or third in the final, passage will be booked for 1984’s Olympic silver medalist to Seoul, where the gold medal that got away at Los Angeles would again be within reach of his busted limb.

Maybe that would make it worth all this.

Then again, maybe nothing is worth the risk Foster is taking, the risk that, should he stumble out of the blocks, should he bang his wrist against a hurdle, should he fall face forward as he lunges for the tape--or if something simply goes pop for no real reason at all--this 29-year-old athlete could lose partial use of his arm, do permanent damage.

His coach isn’t sure he should do it.

“The doctor told Greg if he fell on the arm and re-broke it, he didn’t want to do the second operation,” Bob Kersee said. “Greg’s as hard-headed as my wife. If it was me, I’d still be in the hospital with my hand up in the sling, making nurses wait on me.”

His rivals aren’t sure he should do it.

“I sure wouldn’t,” world record-holder Renaldo Nehemiah said. “My career does not ride on one race. My life doesn’t depend on what I do in the Olympics. But he and I are different people. We have different priorities, I guess.”

Foster is doing it, though, and maybe, just maybe, he knows what he is doing. You never know, this situation might even inspire him.

Al Joyner, another survivor into the semifinals, said: “If he makes the Olympic team with that arm, he’s going to have all the confidence in the world when he gets to Korea. He’s going to be one hard man to beat.”

John Smith, a UCLA assistant coach, even believes this handicap is helping Foster focus on what he has to do, his physical problems keeping him from thinking too much about other, more technical problems. “Greg’s the type who’s usually perplexed right down to his shoelaces,” Smith said.

One thing is sure: This is Foster’s life, and he intends to live it however he chooses. He will not be talked out of this.

He doesn’t want to hear any speculation as to how he is driven by thoughts of Nehemiah being the one who holds the world record, or of Roger Kingdom being the one who grabbed the 1984 gold away from him, or of Canada’s Mark McKoy crashing into him at the world indoor championships here a year ago.

He is not obsessed and he is not afraid, or so he insists.

“I don’t have any fear,” Foster said. “My only concern is of getting bumped. I’m not worried about falling. I haven’t thought about hitting hurdles. I just go out there thinking my arm is in one piece.”

He blocks out the pain, best he can. He resists taking painkillers, even with permission to do so, because they slow up his reaction time. An aspirin, maybe, but nothing stronger. He sounds like an old-time ballplayer who notices a teammate wincing from a bruise and then prescribes: “Just rub a little dirt on it and let’s go.”

Who says he can’t run the hurdles with a broken arm?

“It’s not like my leg is broken,” Foster said.

As long as he can get some sleep, he believes he can do what he came here to do: Qualify for the Olympics. Sleep is all he needs, with his arm propped up above him, so he won’t accidentally roll over on it.

Long after Friday’s last race, Foster went to his doctor for advice. Dr. Forster came by after talking with his patient and said: “He wants to know why it still hurts so much even now.”

Because his damn arm is broken, that’s why it still hurts so much.

Dr. Forster rarely has to work this hard on people who get injured dancing.