Josué Canales is consecrated in the world: Bronze in 800

Human bullets are projected down there, in the synthetic of Nankín’s cube. Josh Hoey makes Josh Hoey: it’s a Front Runner of manual, a Front RunneR As there have been in the United States (Johnny Gray, Donavan Frazier), and pulls with the soul.

It crosses 200 in 24s60 and 400 in 50s64, now next to Brandon Miller, another Front Runner American, and behind, Josué Canales (23) Wait.

Other times, channels has been the same as Hoey and Miller, a Front Runner, But lately he has risked too much, without going any further in the qualifying rounds of Europeans in the Appealoorn Sala, two weeks ago (it would be fifth), and that is why now contemporaries, he compromises the fair.

Disciple of Carles Castillejo, Olympic marathon in countless occasions, channels follow the wake of the others, crouch goes.

-He took two failed finals, I’ve been thinking about that I also deserve it. And he had recorded what he should do. He knew that the Ugandés Dadriga (last at the end) would be disassembled because he was running above his possibilities. So that’s why I have gone -says channels later, storm of ideas and thoughts thrown into the race, as quickly as it runs.

(And this is how the Spain record that had beaten in this winter confirms, a month ago: 1M44S65).

It runs with its short string and the tense gesture, the arms like grilles, and only the blood smells in the last hundred, when Miller dismantles and yields and the Spanish born in Honduras is projected to the bronze (1m45s03, after Hoey and Eliott Crestan, the Belgian who is silver and continues Peleteiro and Fatima Diame.

Half an hour before, at the crossroads between two Spanish eightocentists who have ceased to be 1,500 (Mariano García and Adrián Ben) and a 5,000 specialist determined to govern the lower distance (Jakob Ingebrigttsen) the last one is imposed, and it is imposed with logic, because rare for scarce are the stumbles of Ingebrigtsen.

Nothing and no one stops the phenomenal Norwegian corridor, the best of their generation, according to some the best in history, because everything monopolizes, in all distances and on all surfaces.

The third European double in the Sala (1,500-3,000) signed fifteen days ago in Apeledoorn, and the first world double has collected this Sunday in the Nankín cube, multi-purpose pavilion in a city of nine million inhabitants that attends, with relative enthusiasm, to these World Cups that are celebrated in disagree.

(They should have been played in March 2020; they had been repaired in this 2025, conditioned by the pandemic).

The 1,500 is left by Ingebrigtsen (3M38S79), adds it to 3,000 of the eve, a milestone that until now had only signed Haile Gebrsessie, in 1999 and in Maebashi, also in Asian lands, in the fabulous times of the fabulous Yago Lamela.

The fondist triumphs determined to be midfielder, is the one that best absorbs the efforts, series and series and final day after day, exercises that barely affect him, barely distrust him, quite the opposite of what happens to the Spanish eight, who feel the weight of the meters and disassemble.

Mariano García, the motorcycle man, tries to imitate Ingebrigtsen. He takes his back, decides that he will do everything the Norwegian will do. Gasoline gives it for what it gives. To a thousand, Mariano García can no longer and spread. It will be sixth, in 3M35S87.

(Better comfort, the Norwegian dedicates a wink: when crossing the goal does the motorcycle, the gesture of Mariano García is being internationalized).

Adrián Ben, always hidden, never seems in a position to fight for the remains left by Ingebrigtsen: the image of his bird in the semifinals circulates, lying on the synthetic, hugged by his coach, the eternal Arturo Martín.

When Ingebrigtsen takes the head, as of the 800 (2m02s80), Ben disregards and melts. It ends eighth, in 3M36s95.