running blog – Beers and Miles

It’s race week, season starts now.

Unlike past Boston Marathon blocks, this winter featured no “real” racing on the schedule. I’ve enjoyed hitting the track a couple of times but realistically I don’t think I would’ve been very happy with my performances had I tried my hand out at some track races this Winter.

I can’t say I was too confident heading into the week. The last couple of workouts had gone fairly well but I was still fairly uncomfortable with any paces under 5:10. Sub 5? Yeah, that’s not been fun. I couldn’t really pinpoint much of the reason for this. I feel like I’m in close to the best shape of my life when I’m running longer workouts but I had a much easier time with these threshold reps when I was a 2:23 guy.

Wednesday did very little to give me confidence. A tuneup workout before I flew out to New York the following day. 3 reps of 1 mile at half marathon pace, 200 meter jog, 400 meters at 5K pace, 400 meter jog. A pretty standard workout.

I wouldn’t be able to race in the shoe’s I’ve been working out in this block so I had a decision to make. My Strikes had a little more wear than I wanted for a race like this so I had two options here. Pull out the lightsprays or break out the newest pair I got in the mail thanks to the BAA, the Adidas EVO Pro 1. What an enviable position to be in right?

Seeing as the EVO 1’s were just one use only and the sticker price, I figured I’d hold off here. I wasn’t peaking for this one so why use them. Lightspray it is.

Nothing about this one felt great. Breathing felt incredibly uncomfortable despite a perfect morning. But we got through it and I got increasingly comfortable as it went on.

5:06-71
5:02-70
5:03-70

I’m usually snappy when it comes to these workouts. I felt tired. If today was a sign of what to expect on Saturday then I would need to take things out conservatively. Even on fatigued legs I thought I had a good chance at PRing. Based on my marathon personal best, my half PR is a bit soft.

The Thursday travel day went as smooth as one could hope. I felt solid on my preflight shakeout and no issues on the flight out. Burks was kind enough to pick me Josh and I from JFK. We had some traffic issues on the way back but all things considered, it was a very calm travel day to New York. After an easy hour run catching up with Burks through Mamaroneck, we enjoyed some pizza and called it a night.

Friday. Well. That’s definitely a run I’d like to forget. Nothing like fighting for your life over 6 miles at 8 minute pace. I felt awful. Too many layers, my body just didn’t want to go, and the crazy wind wasn’t helping either. That was awful. But the miles were done and there was not much left to do but get after it the next day.

We made our way out to Rockland to grab our bibs and made a quick detour on the way back to visit a beer shop Burks raved about. He wasn’t kidding, one of the best selections I’d ever seen.

Witty would arrive later that afternoon just in time for dinner. A big plate of spaghetti and meatballs as a little household. It was a time to catch up and discuss plans for what was to come in just a couple of hours.

It would be an early bedtime for this household. 4AM wakeup for this 7AM race.

The morning went without much issue. I woke up fairly easy, excited to get out there and see what I could do. The drive to Rockland went without a hitch with a car fairly quiet as we all prepared for our own respective races.

I can’t say any of the warmup was memorable. It was still dark by the time we arrived and it was tough to make out who was out there. It was cold but not too horrible. We went to use the facilities and met back at the car to get our warmup started. Easy two miles to get the legs warmed up before we ripped around this lake for just over an hour.

The hour went by quicker than expected and next thing I knew I was jogging off to the start.

The start of our heat was fairly bunched up as we tried to see who our respective pacers would be. I had my decision made pretty much after my tuneup and experience from last time out. I’d stick just behind the 68 minute pacer and then take my time over the first half til I got comfortable and then start moving. Basically the same plan as last time. I still wasn’t very confident in my ability to get out hard and I figured keying off the pacer would be a good move for me.

And we’re off.

The field jostles for position as people try to maneuver to their respective pace groups. The confident go to the pacers 66 and below. Separation looks almost immediate. The pace feels fairly easy I think to myself as I have the 68 pacer within arms length.

Yep, we’re way slow here. And he knows it. Like he was struck by lightning the pacer hits the gas, HARD. We scramble around the U-turn at 1K, quick around the curve and no nonsense like two years ago. Everyone knows what side to head on. Regardless, it’s almost a complete stop at this line.

The pacer looks like he’s over corrected and I have no plans on making that move with him.

Settle in with this makeshift pack you’ve found and find rhythm. Make a move on loop two.

5:14 through 1. 5:12 through 2. Clock shows even worse. Oof. We’re really slow here. This doesn’t feel great. But it didn’t feel great last time. Relax.

It was flashbacks of last time out as Vinnie and I begin to run stride for stride. We have a good pack of us and the “68” pack has created separation. Either they were going to have a day or it was going to be a painful last couple loops. No matter, that was their race.

The first loop felt much harder than it needed to be but I maintained connection with this pack. Let them do the work while you compose yourself.

Full loop 1 (2.95 miles): 5:12 pace

The second loop felt easier and I started to forget about what was going on. Quickly I was woken up by Vinnie saying we were slow. The pace began to dawdle and we needed to inject some pace.

Vinnie and I went to the front of the pack and started charging. We made separation from the pack for a bit and I figured this would be the decisive move I needed to have my legs wake up. It was time to start getting after it.

The injection of pace may have been instantaneous but the slow decay felt like hours. My legs just didn’t want to go. I felt heavy and the erratic injection of pace wasn’t much help the cause.

Full loop 2 (2.95 miles): 5:13 pace

The packed swallowed our pour souls soon after. I latched on to the tail end of the pack. I wasn’t redlining; my breathing felt comfortable. I felt flat. There was no drive in my stride and I was working so hard to just hold 5:10s. But my pride wouldn’t let me go. As this pack began to make the important moves I held on.

I’m not going to die. I’m not going to be that guy who makes that charge early and blows up. They’re going to have to bury me. I’m not dropping off this pack. 5 miles to go, don’t be a baby.

As we approached the 9 mile marker I made a decision to press. The legs weren’t feeling great but my breathing was still comfortable. I was going to make a play for home.

Full loop 3 (2.95 miles): 5:11 pace

I had company. The guy that had been doing the brunt of the work in this pack wasn’t going to go out without a fight. Company is good. Let’s keep it going.

The clock showed 52:55. I would need about a 15 flat here if I was going to break 68. I had learned early on that this race had gone sideways but not breaking 68 out here was not the mark I wanted to have here. I’d run a fast last loop before. I could do it again.

I pressed hard as I crossed the finish line for the penultimate time. Down to 5:05. Okay now we’re talking. Keep the hammer down. Wait, why aren’t my legs firing again. Dude they were fine for a mile.

The guy makes another press almost as though he noticed me shifting down a gear. A 5:09 mile followed and with a little over a mile out I pressed again.

He will not die. I want them to think that. Hard to kill. Hard to kill. Go. Let’s show some fight.

I charged hard for that final mile, my breathing now becoming labored as powered through as hard as I could. The watch buzzed ahead of the mile marker again, 5:01. Man where the hell was this earlier.

Looks like I wasn’t the only one that was hard to kill.

The guy made his final push for home and hit a gear I could just not match. Watch tells me that final quarter was a 70 second. He had that extra gear and I didn’t.

Full loop 4 (2.95 miles): 5:06 pace

Final time: 67:55

It’s been a while since I’ve been out kicked like that in a longer race. That was a hell of a fight.

You just wouldn’t die dude I laughed as we caught up after the race.

Yeah man that was fun racing out there

I believe that was his personal best.

I brought in the boys as they finished their respective races, collected the gloves and head band I tossed off mid race and got ready to cooldown. I had a long one ahead of me.

I jogged a bit with Burks and the boys before heading out for a single loop to myself. My legs didn’t feel destroyed. They were flat but just fatigued as though I had a big workout effort. It was frustrating knowing that this was the case. I came here to race, not to feel like this. But so it goes.

With that final loop finished I was at 20.6 for the day. I grabbed breakfast with the boys graciously provided by the crew at Trials of Miles. We caught up with some pals that flew out for the race, chatting about the past year of running for ourselves. Thousands of miles may separate us but I feel like we all tend to keep an eye out for each other, celebrating those big moments when they inevitably happen.

Man I feel like I’m going to break 2:19 before I break 67 I laughed.

That’s how it happened for me. I broke 2:19 before 67.

That definitely made this feel a bit better.

With food in our bellies we left ol Rockland State Park. It was time for Bagged Chicken and most importantly, beer duddde.

Saturday was a blast. I don’t get to see Burks too often since he lives in Denver, I only see Witty a couple times a year, and Josh, while running with him, I don’t often get to hang out with.

We popped a couple early beers we’d assembled and played board games for a bit before Witty made his trek into the city. Burks, Josh, and I drunkenly battled through furiously competitive games of bananagrams as I infuriated Josh by yelling

PEEEL

and

THANK YOU SIR

The afternoon with the boys made the weekend worth it. Burks went to bed and Josh and I celebrated with ice cream from the shop down the block. I bullied Josh into eating the entirety of his ice cream. You can’t go to bed until you finish your sundae.

Sunday surprisingly went significantly better than Friday. The legs were definitely sore but it was a beautiful morning for running. Burks took me through a big tour through the town and I added on to hit my mileage for the week. 11.4 miles for the day to get to 75.

We cleaned ourselves up and made sure to leave the house as we found it and made our way to Brooklyn to catch up with my buddy Greg at one of my favorite breweries. We popped some bottles and enjoyed some great beers all afternoon. What a way to cap off the weekend

The journey to the Newark Airport from Other Half was well, an adventure.

Burks and I went on the same train back but I bailed out a couple stops in. Nature was calling.

I looked around anxiously for a bathroom. By some stupid chance the exits I took was at a park. Boom.

Back on the train I went. Out to manhattan, then a bus to the airport.

Arrive to the bus stop. Patiently wait. I’m gonna make it with about an hour to spare I think?

Is this the bus to Newark I ask the bus driver.

Newark? I don’t know what you’re talking about.

Shit.

Detour to Penn Station. I need to grab the train in time or I’m shit out of luck. I make a mad dash to catch a train to the station. Pay for my ticket. Board the train. Okay. One more to go.

Of course the sky train is experiencing issues. On the train. Wait for another one to take us to the terminal.

I book it to the kiosk. I make the cutoff.

My flight? 7:59. Bags checked: 7:14. Talk about a close one.

My decision to get TSA precheck paid off and I’m through security fairly quickly. I arrive at the gate as we’re boarding. Wow.

Reflecting on this week I think I was a bit too hard on myself. My previous week was 85 miles and we didn’t taper for this one. With how little I’ve been racing in the last 15 months, it’s still frustrating to not have a performance that I can be super happy with but I need to remember that the A race isn’t in March.

running

Road to CIM 2025: Next Gear (March 3rd-9th)

April 2, 2025 beersandmiles

Alright, time to bump it up a little.

After a few weeks in the 70s it was time for my first week above 80 for this build. While this may not have been the highest mileage build I’ve had leading up to Boston, it was nice to at least start finding some consistency in the last couple weeks.

Zach had sent over a basic outline of my workouts for the block, week by week, which made it easier to build out my week and not have to chase miles by the time the weekend came.

This week would have two sessions as always, one Wednesday and some kind of long run workout. We’d be back to kilometer repeats on Wednesday and an extended uptempo session for the weekend.

The week began pretty unremarkably. Another Tuesday run where I wasn’t particularly excited about running. Thankfully I had some company and the run went from hating the action to being somewhat enjoyable in the span of 75 minutes. But I guess this is just how general runs will be coming off big weekend efforts. Just do enough to feel decent enough to knock out some reps Wednesday morning. Nothing flashy.

These morning threshold sessions have taught me that more than likely the first quarter of the workout would feel tough. I’m very much not a morning person and trying to get the legs to start spinning early isn’t something that I can do anymore. Seeing as I need to get to the office at a reasonable hour, the most I’m usually able to do in terms of activation or plyos is maybe some leg swings and a couple of strides if I’m feeling saucy.

Workout on deck: 8x1k @ half marathon pace with 200 jog or float recovery

Just as the run was yesterday, and pretty much any Wednesday workout, the opening reps were fairly mediocre. The first four felt like I was just trying to establish some kind of rhythm. The recovery was just enough with a jog so I decided against pushing for float reps here. If I felt great towards the end, we’ll tweak the recovery reps. For now, just enough was alright.

First couple of ones: 3:10-3:11-3:09-3:09

The last couple of reps weren’t all that fun but my legs were at least warmed up to knock out what I wanted out of the session. Wind on the home stretch was annoying but it wasn’t freezing cold for once so that was manageable. The tummy ache devil decided to make itself known over the last two reps but I was already far enough in to fight through it. With two to go I just thought, it’s less than eight minutes. Just get it done.

3:09, 3:07, 3:07, 3:07

Good.

Could I hold this for a half? I wasn’t particularly sure. I hadn’t really raced a good half in a while and I contemplated pulling back on future workouts until I had a sense of my fitness. I felt like I was in better shape than my 2:19 year, but it was hard to say for sure. I was recovering from these midweek sessions well enough. Whatever, we’d find out in a couple weeks.

Once I hit that threshold of high enough mileage I can pretty much guarantee that any Thursday and possibly even Friday run would be absolute dogshit, especially if I didn’t wake up to run a double before work. Once again, I struggled to get myself out of bed to get my run in before work. That meant some post work miles and potentially a visit to Short North Running Club. Since I didn’t run in the morning I needed to hit at least 12 here to make sure I didn’t put myself in a hole trying to hit mileage over the weekend. The first half wasn’t all that bad but I definitely felt the time on feet towards the end. Good chats when I needed them in those last couple miles and 12.6 on the day. That’s fine. I wouldn’t be working out until Sunday anyway.

I signed up for this local race series thing at the beginning of the year. They had implemented a new challengers series that meant that the people in the series would be a bit more fairly matched than previous years. Instead of having to figure out what races others were doing, a couple of them would be marked as a special part of the series. I signed up for a 5k earlier in the year but missed it due to my Grandmothers passing. Since a lot of races would be conflicts with my current race schedule I needed to figure out some races to stack up early and get points. This weekend would be one of those races. I had 20 on the schedule with 10 miles at 5:20-25 average. The plan was to run a 5 mile warmup, get my workout shoes on and knock out 4 on the course and then hop in just as the gun went off. Knowing this was a first year race I figured that I’d have no competition. A workout and an easy race win? Yeah I’ll take that.

I got a good amount of miles in on Friday with Breydon. 11 easy around his neighborhood. I’d run an easy 11 the next morning with Breydon and then I’d feel fairly snappy for workout day. As I’m driving home and discussing my weekend plans with Shelby, she asks the question.

Wait, isn’t your race tomorrow?

A couple minutes pass as she checks.

Yep, it’s Saturday, not Sunday.

Yo Breydon, I’m gonna have to cancel tomorrow, turns out my race is tomorrow.

Oof. Well that changes my night. Time to get off my feet and prep for my workout tomorrow.

Race mornin’: 20 miles w/ 10 at 5:20-25 average.

I used the warmup to run on the course a bit. I’ve run countless miles on this section of the path but it was still nice to remember what I had ahead of me especially since I hadn’t run a bunch on this during this block. The rolling course ran next to the river that runs through the middle of Columbus. A nasty wind gust greeted you as you went out but made for a fun second half. Even at this slower pace I had a feeling of how I should attack this workout. Since it wasn’t completely flat, we’d have to work on averages to finish this successfully.

I can’t say that I felt all that great on the day but I chalked that up to the wind and rolling of the path.

I tossed my workout shoes, grabbed a couple gels and set off for the first part of my workout. I wanted to get out fairly conservative for this. While 10 isn’t a ton, it’s still long enough to experience a blow up, especially on a day like this. I’d use the first two to kind of see how I was feeling and then work from there. I felt fairly tight for quite a bit and decided on taking the conservative approach on this one. I wasn’t very confident in hitting this workout. The race was a bit of an afterthought, I figured I could blow up hard in this workout and still win fairly easily.

In my prep for the session I had lost track of time a bit. I had about 23 minutes til the gun went off and I was still at my car. It would be 10 minutes out, 10 minutes back with a slight buffer in case I needed to make a stop at the portapotty.

I hit the watch and made my way out. The pace difference was a bit shocking to start and after working out in a different pair of shoes recently this took a second to get somewhat calibrated to the effort I was running. First mile approached quickly.

5:30. Alright not bad here for the first one. We’ll hang around there and then start moving down.

I passed by the water station and gave the folks a little heads up since I had my bib on and was running fairly uptempo.

Don’t worry! The race hasn’t started!

I’m sure they were very confused.

10 minutes came quicker than expected but in an very unfortunate spot. A turn around spot after a steep little hill? Yuck.

A couple quick steps out and I passed by the mile shortly after.

5:35. Oof that’s not ideal. Stay calm, a complete stop and a hill will do that. No over correction. Let the downhill and tailwind take you through.

This next mile would be all about figuring out what kind of morning this was going to be. The back section was much easier than the out and if I was having a tough time there than I was in for a long morning.

I stayed calm as my stride started to open up a little bit. Just enough. Get to the tail end of this pace goal and work from there. A 5:20 now isn’t needed. Not today.

5:25. Good! That’s a start.

As I got back to the start line I hopped in a portapotty then went to the line. One minute to spare here.

The front of the line was bunched up a bit. A couple people looked familiar from the series but I didn’t really see anyone I typically would race against. The guy with a luchador mask standing next to me on the line confirmed my thoughts that this was probably going to be a lonely affair.

Bang!

Immediately the luchador gets off the line and makes his space. He got off the line better than I did but his top speed was probably closer to 6 minute pace and I was left having to try and find a way around. I got bumped for a second before the guy let me past, apologizing for an absolutely inadvertent bump. It happens, no harm no foul. I get around and immediately feel like I’ve gapped the field.

The excitement of the start got me a little ahead of myself as I went through the next mile in 5:18. Chillll out dude.

The way out felt significantly easier than the last two times. I waved at the water stop crew letting them know that we had actually started this time.

5:22. No issues and the rolling felt pretty good. This out was nearly done. Hard part should be over at this point. But first a quick left turn, down a slight section and then a U-turn. What comes down must come up in this case. Nothing like coming to a complete stop and then having to running up a hill…

Well that made this next mile real slow. 5:35. Remembering the last 5:35, I stayed calm. A U-turn and hill was bound to make it slow. The fun section was coming anyway. Time would be made up there.

Sure enough it was. With the wind hitting my back and some light downhill sections I went through that next mile in 5:16. Breathing was comfortable, I didn’t feel like I was straining.

Next one up, little bit of a tougher section with some sharp turns heading back to the start but no issues. 5:20 mid was just where I wanted to be.

I approached the section of the course I hadn’t run before. The race had 5k that would go back directly to the finish while the 10k would break off to hit an outside section to get to the distance.

Another hill to tackle and then the easy part I was sure.

Well….

With construction happening on the bike path it was pretty hard to find an easy way back onto the path without some sharp turns. What this meant was coming off the hill you went down to the path with two sharp turns that basically brought you to a halt. I wasn’t aggressive with these turns knowing my foot issues. No need to roll it because I want to catch some time. Another slower mile because of it, but a full stop will do that. 5:32.

Last mile felt good. As I inched closer to the finish line I realized I was going to be pretty short. I crossed the finish line in first, grabbed my medal and kept running for almost a quarter mile, dodging race finishers. It was a chaotic finish and I could hear the announcer confused about it but I needed to finish this workout.

5:22. 10 miles at 5:26 average. Just off the goal for the workout but considering I came to a complete stop multiple times I went ahead and called it a wash. Mission accomplished.

I can’t say the workout itself was all that spectacular but I got some strong work in and sometimes that’s all you need.

I finished the week at 80 with a 11 mile Sunday.

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Coming up Short: Loving the Sport After it Breaks Your Heart

September 29, 2023 beersandmiles

I gave it all gave it all I had. 12th in the region. About a month ago not even thinking I could even be all conference. I find out tomorrow if I make nationals. 4 teams need to make it in order for me to go. Regardless of whether I make nationals I must say that I’m proud of how far this team has come and damn proud to be a SCIAC athlete. A couple years ago no one would have ever thought to see La Verne battling for a national spot, or even sending a team much less an individual there. It’s been a wild ride and it’s been a great journey. – November 16th 2013

As years go by, memories tend to blur together. Almost two decades in this sport will do that to you. I’m no longer the kid and that just feels just weird to me. I’m 31 now, just a few years shy from an entire new age group. Running has almost become second nature to me, an almost daily routine that very rarely has major highs or lows. I joke that I generally care about my own running about ~2 hours of each week. Everything else is just necessary motion. It’s a hobby. I don’t make money from it and I’m generally okay at it. I can’t say I don’t love it. I can’t say that I’m not obsessed with it. Why else would you continue to dedicate 10 hours a week toward something.

Being around for this long you learn a lot of lessons. I guess you have to for the sake of self-preservation. Those that don’t learn from those lessons have a short life span in this sport. If you’re lucky you’ll continue to just jog around a couple days a week as an enjoyable endeavor. Others are spit out, never wanting to ever associate themselves with it. And once you’re out long enough, that mountain becomes much steeper.

Over the last couple of years I’ve had the pleasure of watching new runners grow in their own journey. From past athletes in other disciplines, to just people taking something up during a very lonely pandemic, our community has grown just due to the accessibility of running itself. As I’ve created and interacted with my own community, both locally and virtually, I’ve continued to watch enthusiastically as new barriers are broken and goals once thought impossible are set.

But with time in this sport comes inevitable setbacks and disappointments. Some controllable, others not so much. It’s not ever a question of if, but more when. If there’s one thing that running teaches us, it’s how to find the silver linings in those moments of disappointment. Despite success feeling almost binary, we can find victories in even some of our lowest moments.

Running can be a cruel endeavor. I’ve had my heart broken more by running over these last two decades than anything else. A running career filled with injuries and setbacks has forced me to learn how to pick myself up, put the pieces back together, and go forward again.

As I’ve learned over the years, it’s the low moments that truly test who you are in this sport.

The thing is, everybody wants to be a winner. And when you’re psyched up, you’re willing to make any sacrifice. After a great workout, you’ll happily go hit the weight room, or add extra miles, or eat spinach and broccoli. But what will you do when you’re feeling like crap, or all your friends are going out, or it’s pouring rain, or you’re running poorly? To keep striving over the course of years, you need to smooth out the natural highs and lows of your desire, so that you have a constant and unrelenting force that drives you off the sofa and out to run. Every day. Twice. – Once a Runner

My running career has been full of those tests. None more-so than my final cross country season at La Verne.

I entered that final season of undergrad with one last shot to make the NCAA DIII National Championships in green and orange. During those years if you asked anyone on that men’s squad what the mission of La Verne Cross Country was, it would have been the same. To make the National Championship. We were united in this goal from the moment we stepped on campus. When AJ, the first national qualifier in our school’s history, returned from nationals our freshman year he told us:

I want you there with me next time.

My Sophomore season our team was snakebit when it when it came to Regionals. AJ was out due to an injury between conference and regionals. Our top runner that year, Alex, who was in battling for winning the region, aggravated an injury during the race. Sean was unlucky and battled a cold. I was our top finished in a slightly disappointing 28th place finish. Good for All-Region but hardly enough to help the team. We finished 9th as a team, heartbroken.

My Junior year, I came in with high expectations. I had capped off my Sophomore year with a school record in the 5K, one that would absolutely be destroyed in the following years, but a school record nonetheless. My goal was to step up and hopefully be part of an interchangeable 1-2-3 for our team. It didn’t matter who finished first, just that we had a team of low sticks.

Just days into arriving on campus, my season was over before it started. I fractured my middle toe walking at team camp and had to redshirt the rest of the season. The team kept rolling without hesitation and had the best season in school history. A few short months later they would make good on the promise they made to AJ during that run, La Verne qualified for the National Championships.

Making the best of a bad situation. Dapper Days 2012.

The feeling of conflicted emotion was something that I have yet to ever experience again. There was a profound sadness that despite being there from the early days, I sat there in my dorm room as my best friends achieved a goal we had talked about countless times. But that sadness took a back seat to pure happiness for those hard working gentlemen. I was excited for the team. They busted their asses for years to achieve what no one thought we could years prior. To not be excited for them would be selfish. Against all odds, they did what they set out to do.

As their season came to a close, so began my first steps post crutches. Weeks later AJ would knock on my dorm room door and hand me a gift. The national qualifier medallion.

I already have one of my own. Plus, you were as much a part of this team as anyone else. You can give it back to me when you get your own.

School Record in the Steeplechase Spring 2013

You dream of your final season as a movie like crescendo; three years of trials and tribulations leading to breakthrough. This was nothing like that. I capped off another Track season with a school in the Steeplechase one place off the podium at conference. I was ready for a breakthrough in my favorite season. This season would be different. I would be the only returner from that group of five men that bonded my freshman season. Alex, Matt, and Sean graduated that spring and AJ had made the decision to not return to the team. That season was solely about unfinished business.

And again, as summer came to a close I was faced with another injury. This time an IT Band issue that got so bad that I had trouble bending my knee without being in excruciating pain. Instead of running with the guys every morning I spent them on the stationary bike or dropping out of workouts as my knee would once again lock up. While I had made friends with the underclassmen, it was impossible to replicate the bond I had with those old teammates. I had a new coach I couldn’t see eye to eye with, a schedule outside of practice that left me running on fumes, and I could barely run. My motivation was at its lowest. I felt defeated. I wasn’t a good teammate. I struggled to wake up for practice on time to stationary bike while the team ran so I was punished by having to sit out for races that season. I bombed out in my first conference race, finishing 80+. Later that season I told a close friend from a rival team that I was contemplating quitting the team before conference. At this point this was no longer enjoyable. I had begun to hate the very thing I loved more than anything else at that point.

Something in me couldn’t give up on the guys on the team. I was emotionally beat but I definitely was not dead yet. Some of the younger guys hadn’t given up on me. I had done this turnaround before. So I kept going, and eventually I found a stretch where I stayed healthy and could prove my fitness. At the final conference meet I ran the race of my life to finish 9th overall. An improvement from 80+ just a couple weeks prior. As I came through the finisher shoot our top returner looked back in shock to say:

YOU!?

I was back. The stories were all true. I’d be there when it counted. And i’d be there to give that nationals berth everything I had.

I came into regionals confident but hesitant about the level of fitness I was in. I played it conservative and put myself in a position where I was just on the outside looking in. For years, top 15 would be the magic spot to get you to nationals. Land in there and your ticket is as good as punched to the big dance. Outside of the home team, I was the most experienced on this course, it being about 2 miles from my childhood home. The course lined with familiar faces: conference pals, teammates, friends, and family. This was the best I had felt all season. As my competitors began to strain, I began to make my move. I was quickly picking up spots as we neared closer and closer to the finish.

As I crested the small hill leading to the final stretch, I could see one final jersey within sight. 250 meters to go and I hit the track. I hug the curve, pumping my arms as hard as I can as I inch closer and closer to the finish line. There’s not much room left. It’s my last race. I don’t care. It’s all I have now. I tap into any remaining energy I could muster up and attack. I sprint as hard as I could and despite knowing that the finish line would come before I could pass that final competitor, I still give it everything. If I was going to miss out it was not going to be because of lack of trying.

My friends and family embraced me as I tried to catch my breath. AJ picks me up and gives me a giant hug.

12th. 12TH!

Exhausted and almost in tears I can’t believe it.

I’M GOING TO NATIONALS.

I cheer for my teammates as they cross the line, each having given everything they had out there. We celebrate one heck of a season together with no doubt in our minds that we did all we could that day. Three men All-Conference. Two National Qualifiers.

As we begin to calculate the team scores, I’m reminded of something our former coach said.

100 points. If your team finishes third and under that, you’ll go to nationals.

Third place: 109. Fourth place: 132. La Verne: 149.

I begin to count the individuals ahead of me.

If they take only two teams, my teammate Bryan is the final spot in 10th. If they take three teams, I’m the first one out by one second.

As the reality of all this began to settle, I realized that barring some kind of miracle, this goal that I worked so hard for years for, would never come to fruition.

And yet as I sat there with teammates past and present, I felt something that I never thought I’d feel in a moment like this. Thankfulness. As I celebrated the end of the season that night with conference foes turned close friends, I came to terms with the reality that I would never be a national qualifier. And so I celebrated. I celebrated the journey that was those last four years of hard work. I celebrated the fact that an overlooked 4:52/10:26 HS kid from a family of non athletes was even in the position to be here.

Over the last couple of years as running has become more serious to me than I ever expected it to ever be again, I’m reminded of that moment. As I placed the goal on the board to qualify to the Olympic Trials a couple of years ago I find solace in the fact that I’ve failed at almost every one of my biggest running goals. But hell if that 4’10” 70 pound HS freshman with a 20:07 3 mile PR ever thought it was possible for this to be an option.

As I see friends this week crushed by a standard they had no control over, I’m reminded of this experience. Three years later a good friend of mine would punch his ticket to the national championships with a 23rd place finish. Sometimes it’s just the luck of the draw.

While there may be feeling of finality following a moment of disappointment, the beauty of this is in the journey. To have been able to put yourself in contention is something to be proud of. Because that takes work and dedication. We as runners are not defined by a qualifying standard. Sometimes the draw lands in your favor, and sometimes it doesn’t. But regardless of the result, it doesn’t change the pure happiness that came crossing that finish line.

I’ve told myself over the years that if every story was perfect, it just wouldn’t be worth telling. In the thick of training blocks we seldom have time to thing of the growth we’ve made as athletes. Take that time to reflect on it and give yourself credit for sticking to it. Running tends to have more tough days than memorable ones and out of thousands of miles there’s very few that I hold close. Hold those good days close. Celebrate them.

Almost 10 years later those college memories continue to provide me a gentle reminder to take the time to appreciate the journey. 10 years ago I realized one of my biggest fears. That day running broke my heart. I closed that chapter of my life disappointed but happy as hell I even had the chance to be there. Little did I know it at the time, this was just opening up a new chapter to a story that is still being written.

As you wake up the tomorrow to lace those shoes, discouraged as you may be, remember, this is just another chapter, not the finale.