Duplantis is soaring proof of limitless human achievement

A kid in a backyard with a stick is thinking about the idea of extraordinary flight.

- Rohit Brijnath

He's three years old and has a feeling which he can't fully explain. "When I was in diapers," said pole vaulter Armand Duplantis of early days in his backyard, "I wanted to be the best that's ever lived – to break the world record."

The world record is temporary yet titanic, a journey to where no one human has been. It is one person with an inner swagger redrawing the boundaries of achievement for billions. It is a realisation of the potential of the planet.

World records are rewritten twice in one day and also stand for years. Mike Powell's 8.95m in the long jump is untouched from 1991 and is as preposterous a distance as Duplantis has reached. You could put George, the tallest giraffe ever at 5.8m, on high heels, and the pole vaulter could pat his head while soaring over him. On June 15, Duplantis broke the record for the 12th time by rising to 6.28m. Soon he will need a parachute to descend.

The world record holder is an anomaly, an athlete operating on an unknown plane of perfection whose struggle goes beyond the person in the next lane and is with history itself. Like Jesse Owens, who broke five athletics world records and equalled a sixth in 45 minutes in 1935 with an injured back. Or, Michael Phelps who set seven swimming world records alongside eight golds at the 2008 Olympics.