Life has as many ups and downs or zigzagging turns as any single tracked trail that I have navigated in the past 25 years or so. With that wild parallel behind me, and the many unknown life trails ahead, it seems fitting to reflect on the past year or so and revisit my dusty blog.
Right now I would like to reflect on what running has evolved into for myself, and what I hope it will transform into. I would like to circumnavigate the many feelings of this sport, just as it has felt when racing a true mile on a track. The 4 laps all serve a distinct feeling as you speed towards the finish, and in some cases the splits tend to be nearly identical as the last, but the sensation is oh so different. For this reflection, and for where I am in age - 41 years young, it's uncanny to match up each lap with a different part of my life in a decade format. Lap 1 is getting familiar with the sport, Lap 2 is settling in, Lap 3 has zero error to loose focus and Lap 4 was the long 400m kick home.
Lap 1: This will be the shortest of paragraphs, as most will know that the first lap of a hard mile is sometimes a blur of emotion and adrenaline from just the excitement of the race. This segment of my life was probably my high school and college career. We were young, only had PR's to look forward to as we got older. We developed many life long friendships in this sport as the commonality of running on a team only brought us all together. The brotherhood of sweat and tears running around an oval only strengthen the bond we had as teammates. Yet, the personal endeavor of improving was all we could think about. Improving... was one way to look at it, but for the mature athlete we looked at it as Growing. Some of us had a predetermined set growth that would end once we were never expected to wear our college uniform again - graduation day. Others knew they would keep running for the pure joy or physical benefit of staying in shape. And a few of us were propelled to pursue some lofty goal that would seem unimaginable...
Lap 2: For me, this was post-college competition and entering the world of professionalism; attempting to reach for some times that would be regraded as "fast" and not just an "also ran" individual. For nearly 4 years after college I settled into my life with friends rather than a career as a teacher. I trained somewhat seriously and worked somewhat seriously. Just as you would in the mile itself, I settled. I settled in my training, just slowly increasing my fitness and making some decent improvements. Raced all around San Diego and Southern California, and remained a big fish in a small pond. Settling into a small bit of glory by becoming the "Top Dog" in my area. Still in search of something greater, I would approach lap 3 with some decent experience in the running world, but knew that I would have to make a dramatic move to reach those far fetched goals. This metaphorical move, was actually a physical move as I looked into moving to high altitude. The mountain towns of Flagstaff, Boulder or Alamosa were on my mind. Ironically, an old teammate by the name of Kris Houghton was training in the high altitude city of Albuquerque. A city that would rival Boulder for it's population of World Class medalist. A city overflowing with dirt trails and year round sunshine for near perfect training weather. A city of running tradition that has been rooted back to the indigenous tribes that would trek across the desert sand. A city where the University was accessible and cheap for a grad student! Albuquerque seemed optimal as I approached the penultimate lap of my competitive running career. This would be the move I made into my third lap, I had to get out of lane 1 and make a surge or push to get into a better position in life around the track.
Lap 3: My arrival to Albuquerque was met with an exotic array of distance runners that would make any Hollywood script into an award winning documentary. A great deal of this story has already been told and many details have already been written in the archives of this blog, however it never gets old to me when I think about my first encounter with Henry Rono - my soon to be new coach, and the many other African and Asia runners. In one short month in August of 2008, I gained a coach, 2 new dedicated training partners and was exposed to half a dozen Olympians at the Albuquerque Academy track. All our workouts were intertwined with other world class runners. One in particular that made a definitive difference in my view on training and racing would be Hendrick Ramaala (New York City Marathon Champion, 2 time World Half Marathon silver medalist). He casually crushed a workout while Kris and I requested to tag along for a strenuous workout of our own. Hendrick; being the South African record holder in the 10,000m and humble individual, naturally and without any hesitation said, "sure" to us training with him. We hung on for dear life running what we could for his 1,000m repeats. And after the we tore the rubber off our soles and our heart rates came back down from the rushing beat of each interval, we realized that we were only going to get better in Albuquerque and made the right decision to call this city home. Many years had past and many minutes had gotten shaved off of each PR allowing for and more doors to open to some of the most competitive races in the Country. Reaching the ranks of top 30 in Track and Field news in distances in the 10,000m and the Half Marathon was great on black and white print. Yet, the one race I wanted to get into the most required the most discipline - the USA Olympic Marathon Trials. It didn't matter how fast you were in the 10,000m or even the Half Marathon, you had to survive 26 miles at an ungluing pace to gain entry into what was a dream championship. Just as you would round out the third lap of the mile, you had to finish strong when the bell came. I thought I had done everything right leading up to this point. I trained, I moved, I surrounded myself with faster runners than me, I got injured, I healed, but what else was I to do to qualify? It wasn't going to just be handed to you, even if you worked at it, because everyone was working hard.
Lap 4: Without a dramatic write-up, I ultimately made it to the USA Olympic Marathon Trials and embraced every moment of it. Just like everyone who has raced a mile, you will make it to that last lap, but how will you feel when you get there, and what position will you be in? Will it be too late to make a move, or has the raced unfolded perfectly for you to rush the backstretch and kick with everything you got before the bend? Will the field open up wide and allow for you to stay in lane 1 and run home with a PR, or will you be boxed in? Will you already be defeated? The uncontrollable variables can almost determine everything. I felt that going into my last lap was set up perfectly for me. Sure, things could have been better and I could've had a better finish. But, if you ask many runners who run an incredible race, they will recall every moment of that finish and think back that they could've gone even faster. That their next race will be even better. That they will only take away the positives from this glorious finish, and forget about all those little mistakes they made, only to re-experience them again in another race. My fourth lap of my competitive career was incredible, and it lasted well beyond the Olympic Trials. If I could measure it in meters out of a 1,609 meter mile spectrum, I would say the Trials were somewhere around 1,200m, knowing that I still had just over 400 more meters of competitive years left. Another full lap of running new races on the US racing circuit and experiencing the marvel of running was like an all out bell lap.
With life as I know it today, I have only summarized one perfect mile - the mile that is written above. And as any good athlete will know that once they finish their race, they must cool down the body before entering another race. My cool down run has been a long reflection on how that race has turned out. It has been the many years that have passed. What mistakes I made, what moves proved to be beneficial, and how can I improve on it next time? I feel that I have already entered another metaphorical race. One that involves both training and mentorship as a coach. Juggling both wonderful worlds as I settle into a strong and fast pace. A race that will include a wonderful new addition to mine and Arlene's life in the form of a tiny human. A race that will feel both hard, but familiar. My biggest question though, is how to approach it, as this next race is not as compartmentalized to break up as a mile race. This next race might feel more like a 5,000 or even a Marathon. The segments within this new race of life have a grueling sense of familiarity that I've enjoyed, yet the outcome and finish will be a different type of perfect. An unknown that I am very excited for and to be enjoying as each lap or mile ticks away with another thoughtful and memorable experience.
