As she crumbled to the track at National Stadium late Tuesday evening in Beijing, Lolo Jones — the pride of Des Moines Roosevelt High School — felt it.

It came rushing toward her like an out-of-control locomotive.

We all felt it. I wanted to cover my eyes. It was that ugly.

Jones felt it far worse — right in the pit of her stomach — in that deep, dark place that we all fear and want no part of.

Dismay, that quickly turns to anger, then confusion. Tears are usually soon to follow. Jones let them flow.

Failure, especially on her grand stage and in her moment — was too tough to swallow for the track champion from LSU.

If I could have, I would have hugged Lolo right there on the track — then cried with her.

Heartbreaking didn’t describe what went down in the 100-meter hurdle finals last week. Jones wasn’t supposed to be balled up on the floor of The Bird’s Nest, some short distance down from the finish line, with her head in her hands.

That was her gold medal — period. It looked like the final was going to be a repeat of Jones’ semifinal output a day earlier — flawless.

They say things happen for a reason. I’m still trying to figure out that one.

Jones was shocked at the unraveling of a race that she had in the palm of her hand — only to be snatched away at the last second.

“Would you like to see the incredible view from the foyer, it’s an scenic panorama of the ocean. Wait, I’m sorry, this house is no longer for sale.”

“What?, but you said ...“

“No. This house is not for sale.”

In the most important moment in her life, Jones — the favorite to win the event — tripped on the next-to-last hurdle — a gold medal seemingly in her grasp.