South Jersey hammer thrower spends the pandemic perfecting his skills for the NCAA nationals
Despite the uncertainties caused by the pandemic, Jude Misko, a 24-year old Rutgers-Camden hammer thrower, is training hard to qualify for the national championships this spring.
“I thought I knew what focus was,” Jude Misko said. “I thought I knew what hard work was.”
That was before he went to college and began making a name for himself in the hammer throw, a rigorous, esoteric sport in which his focus, hard work, and talent have helped him set records and win titles. He’s currently training for the NCAA Division III Men’s and Women’s Outdoor Track and Field Championship, set for May 27-29.
“This is my last hurrah,” said Misko, 24, a graduate student in criminal justice at Rutgers-Camden whose eligibility ends with the current semester. He set his personal best record in competition at the 2019 Widener Invitational, where he threw the hammer 54.59 meters, or 179 feet and one inch. He’s currently throwing 59 to 61 meters, or 194 to 201 feet.
“Hundreds of hammer throwers nationwide are competing in Division III, and Jude is in the top 10 in the country in terms of his skill level and distances,” said Ian Chrzanowski, Rutgers-Camden head coach for men’s and women’s indoor and outdoor track and field.
“He’s a very talented hammer thrower with an unyielding desire to improve,” Chrzanowski said. “The hammer event is very technical and requires so much training and so many hours in the weight room. If there were an award for the most dedicated college hammer thrower in New Jersey, Jude would be up for it.”
The hammer is not a hammer as most people know it (the term reflects the sport’s ancient Celtic origins) but rather a steel ball attached to a handle by a wire about four feet long. Male and female hammer throwers stand within a seven-foot circle and rotate three or four times before releasing the implement, which weighs 16 pounds for men, 8.8 pounds for women. Researchers estimate that a hammer released by a thrower like the legendary Yuriy Sedykh — who set a world distance record in 1986 that still stands — can reach up to 65 mph.
The pandemic forced the cancellation of the spring 2020 track and field season at colleges across the country. Restrictions imposed last spring forced gyms to close for several months. And safe places to throw, with the requisite concrete pad, wide field, and relative isolation, are difficult to find even in normal times.
But after a few weeks off, Misko, a Pine Hill, Camden County resident and full-time patient aide at an imaging center, started training last June for the 2021 nationals. He’s out there four days a week for 90 minutes or more, followed by a two-hour weightlifting session.
“With the hammer, the only way you get better is by throwing it,” he said between throws from the discus circle at Winslow Township High School in Camden County. The morning sun was bright but the temperature was well below freezing. The wind was relentless.
“I am used to training in very un-ideal situations,” said Misko, who earlier in the winter would finish training sessions after sundown. “Sometimes it’s so cold I can barely feel my hands.”
But Misko pushes through. In 2017, a back injury (”I was overtraining,” he said) could have derailed his college career. He was in his second year at what is now Rowan College of South Jersey, and a medical professional examining him said he had no future as a hammer thrower.
“He told me I wasn’t big enough,” said Misko. “I told myself then that I’ll write him a letter when I get back from winning the nationals and say, ‘I told you so.’
“There are definitely situations where you shouldn’t throw, like when there’s lightning,” Misko added. “But if it’s cold or windy or raining, you just suffer through it. You’ve got to throw the implement.”
At about 5-foot-9 and weighing about 235, Misko is relatively small for a hammer thrower. But there’s more to throwing than size.
“It’s about energy,” Chrzanowski said. ”It’s about positioning and setting yourself up to create energy in your throw. Anyone can [rotate] and let go of the hammer. But to put it into orbit, as they say, takes a tremendous amount of skill.
“Jude makes it look effortless. But the effort he puts into making it look effortless? There’s not enough room in a novel [to encompass] all of it.”
Widener University throwing coach Tyler Williams, Misko’s friend and frequent training partner, pointed out that hammer throwing is generally not a path to fame, let alone the fortune that brand endorsements and licensing deals make possible for top athletes in more popular sports.
“A lot of people don’t even know what hammer throwing is,” said Williams, 27, who lives in West Berlin, Camden County. “Even though [the sport] has gained some traction, it’s not like there’s a gigantic audience for it. So it takes a special kind of person to willingly put in the time and effort, beat their body down, go through the recovery process, and do it again.
“But Jude likes to grind. He works hard, he’s competitive, he wants to be the best … and he likes to surround himself with people who are better than him. A lot of athletes don’t do that.”
Misko records, and carefully studies, his training sessions. He also shares them with fellow throwers, as well as with his online coach, Sean Donnelly.
“We communicate two or three times a week. I give technical feedback on the videos, and we have a more intense conversation once or twice a month,” Donnelly, 27, said from San Diego, where he’s training for the Olympics.
“I’ve been following Jude for a while, even before I was coaching him,” he said. “I could see he has a different type of intensity, discipline, and passion.”
While physical power is a necessity, so too are the finesse, rhythm, and timing that Misko also possesses, said Donnelly. He compared the act of throwing to an art: “A good throw is more pleasing to the eye.”
It also sounds better, said Misko. “It kind of makes a swoosh. Usually when you hear that, it means something went right.”
There’s also the physical, intellectual, and emotional sensation of arriving at that peculiar zone known to anyone who becomes immersed in performing a task, doing a craft, making art, or training for a sport.
“Kind of like, everything aligns and the hammer is part of your body,” Misko said. “You’re just one entity. You’re holding on to a hammer, and it’s you, and if you time it right, it will go far.”
So may the thrower.
For now, however, Misko is focused on the task at hand.
“The main thing is being consistent,” he said. “I train to get better. It’s not about the nationals or the Olympics. I’m out here throwing in the cold, or in the dark, for no other reason than to be the best that I can be.”