Keep Pushing Forward • Hotlanta Half Marathon, Atlanta, GA, USA

There are days when I wake up and feel great.  The pain is still there, my brain is still off… but relatively speaking I feel like I’m on top of the world.  There are also days like today.  From early on I often know its going to be a rough one.  When I got moving first thing this morning, I felt way off.  I hoped it would be something I could shrug off.  I was wrong.

I’d already adjusted my expectations.  Most days, 1:30ish is my general target.  It’s a solid workout, but not a backbreaker.  If the circumstances are right, I’ll adjust to a quicker target pace.  When its bad weather, a hilly course or I’m just not feeling it I have to adapt in the other direction.  The weather was nice this morning, and I’ve crushed worse hills.  On the other hand, I just wasn’t feeling it.  I lined up near the front, just ahead of the 1:45 pace group.  I figured I’d go for a 1:40, and if I really struggled could just fall back and run with them.  This wasn’t going to be the moderately fast race I’d hoped when the weekend started.  

As the hot summer sun started to beat down, the Hotlanta Half Marathon took off from the Coca-Cola museum.  Almost immediately we started to climb.  Of course, that meant I slowed substantially.  I was sure I’d recover after the climb, but today it just wasn’t happening.  Between the frequent ups and downs on the course and my general health this morning… yeah… I just needed to finish.  Right from the beginning I sensed how off my brain was.  Yes, my back was killing me.  Yes, my legs were killing me.  But that’s only pain.  I can handle that.  It won’t kill me.  The problem today was that my brain was off.  As soon as I increased my exertion level, I noticed it: my balance was off.  This was a problem.  I tuned into it… I wasn’t exactly running easily today.  There was a bit of a stumble in my steps.  I’m pretty sure I would have failed the ‘walk the line’ DUI test.  This did not bode well for the next 12 plus miles.  Now, I just hoped I could stay with the 1:45 pace team.   That would be acceptable.  If not, just finish…

Normally, I pay more attention to the race course.  Normally I immerse myself in the run, in the race environment.  Today, it took everything I had just to keep myself upright and moving forward.  We raced past some downtown Atlanta landmarks, Olympic stadiums and along the beltway trail.  For the first half and change, I stayed in proximity of the pace team.  At mile 6.5, they break out singing “Whoaaaa we’re half way there! Whoaaaa! Living on a prayer!”  Normally I’d be all about that.  Today, I just focused on my steps.  We hit mile 8 – time for my strong MR8K finish.  I picked it up a bit, and quickly regretted it.  I’m certainly healthier now than I was two years ago.  Although I almost did (multiple times), this time I did not fall.  I stumbled, I slowed, but I did not stop.  These last four miles were going to be quite rough.

The pace team now well ahead of me, we raced through the most shaded portion of the course: Piedmont Park.  I couldn’t exactly enjoy it though.  I was battling some serious physical demons.  Each mile seemed to take forever.  Some days the miles flow by.  The race starts and it seems like only five minutes later I’m already at mile ten.  Today it seemed like I’d been running for an hour before I hit the next mile marker.  Then two more before I hit the next.  This sucked.

Now I’m worrying about if the 2:00 pace team will catch me.  I didn’t want another 2+ half.  It’s frustrating knowing that I’m so much better than this, yet that someone else’s sins are still forcing me to suffer.  But damn it!  I will not let that negativity define my life.  I will defy the odds, and I will live the life I choose to live.  Pain won’t stop that.  Suffering is a blessing: I’m still alive to experience it!  So I keep trudging along.  Honestly… I worry that I will fall, that I won’t be able to catch myself with my next stumble.  So I run slowly, carefully, focusing solely on that slow forward progress.  I see a familiar sight ahead – we run past Georgia Tech’s football stadium.  I’d been here for a BC game years back.  Despite everything that has happened since then: I’m still alive to make this return trip.  I continue plodding forward.  It feels like I’ve been running forever, and I’ve still got a bit left to go.

Finally, cresting the top of a hill, I see the finish arch ahead!  Finally!  But I don’t dare try to kick; I’d probably fall if I did.  So I coast through the finish.  Yes, todays run had been hell.  But I’ve been through hell before and hell ain’t got nothin’ on me!  It wasn’t pretty, and my beloved running… well today it wasn’t fun.  But I did what I needed to.  I’ve said for the past two years that this ordeal will teach me to be perfectly in tune with my body.  Today was just another tuneup.  If I can get it done when things are tough, I’ll be that much stronger on the brighter days.

I’d looked forward to exploring this course. I’d looked forward to relaxing at the afterparty.   Not today… I’ll need to come back for this race again, on a day when my brain is a bit more functional.  For today, I spent nearly two hours focusing entirely on self.  I made sure every step I took continued my momentum.  Little things we take for granted – today they needed all my attention.  Now that the run was done, it was time for my most critical activity these past two years.  I found a quiet corner of the park and took a nap.

Where It All Began • Fairfield Half Marathon, Fairfield, CT, USA

After a long day of celebrating with my classmates, I woke with my brain throbbing.  I knew this would likely be an issue.  As usual, I’d avoided alcohol completely, but even so the audible stimulation of the evening had wiped me out.  I’d spend a good chunk of the evening sitting quietly in the parking lot to escape the noise and decompress but even that wasn’t enough.  It had been yet another case of balancing physical health with mental health.  No regrets though: I refuse to allow my injuries to define my life.

On top of that, the weather had done a complete 180°!  Yesterday was hot and humid, like I’m used to in Miami.  Today was chilly and windy.  Suffice it to say that I wasn’t ready for that.  Regardless, for the first time in 20 years (I think) I donned my Prep Cross Country uniform shorts and began to prepare myself for the mental and physical battle ahead.  I have to admit:  I was pretty pumped that I still fit into those bright red running shorts from yesteryear!  To celebrate our 20 years, I’d rock them for another thirteen miles.  While I knew this wasn’t going to be a PR performance today, I did expect to put in a decent time – one at least worthy of a Prep runner!

The Fairfield Half will always have significant meaning for me.  Back in 1995, this had been my first ever half marathon.  That year, I’d gone from unable to complete more than two miles even with a break every half, to feeling confident enough to test myself with 13.1.  I’d went from a sedentary lifestyle, to that of a runner.  Although running had been painful (for as yet unknown reasons), I’d managed pretty well.  I was by no means elite as a freshman, but I was moderately competitive.  So I kept at it.  That June, I ran my heart out at the Fairfield Half.

I’ll never forget that race.  I ran strong.  I ran fast.  I crushed the hills.  I even got my first runners high.  I pushed myself harder than I’d though possible, even vomiting with less than a mile left to go.  But I didn’t stop.  I was on top of the world.  As I hit the gravel running back into the Jennings Beach parking lot, I gave it everything I had… and I got smoked by an old guy.  I finished with a solid 1:47:37, but was frustrated I’d been shown up by ‘grandpa’.  Invincible, untouchable, smart ass teenager… I’d just been put in my place.  I decided that one day *I* would be that grandpa!  In 50 years, I’d be the one sprinting past some too cool for school kid.  Yes… during that one race, running became central to my life.  There’ve been some detours, but that race was a defining moment.

I ran the Fairfield Half every summer while I was in CT, improving every year through my graduation.  In the summer of ’98, I ran the best race of my life:  1:25:34, good enough for the win in the 19 and under age group.  I’d just graduated Prep, was in the best shape of my life, and was ready to take on college.  For the first time in my four year running career, I’d won an individual accolade.  As a team, ƒpXc had been on another level.  Individually, I’d been just OK.  For the first time, I’d excelled!  I was proud of that trophy, even if it was broken within the hour.  That PR would stand until I was nearly twice that age, when I finally beat it in Tartu, Estonia!

This morning, I was simply shooting for a solid 1:35, a pace I should be able to comfortably run.  It didn’t start out well though.  With the ‘cold’ I wasn’t feeling it.  My first couple miles were slow and painful.  I was struggling and wasn’t even running a 7:30 pace.  It was going to be a lonnnnnnnng day.  I had started the race with Vin, and ran those first few miles with him.  Gradually I warmed up and began to feel at least a little bit better.  Just past mile two, we saw the first of our bomb squad (thats what Prep calls its cheering section).  There on the side of the road our buddy Kevin’s wife and baby were cheering us on.  As we ran past, I decided it was time to step it up!  I stripped off my shirt (I hadn’t earned the nickname Naked Boy in high school for nothing) and picked up the pace.  Slight problem:  my old Prep shorts waistband couldn’t hold the shirt.  I turned back, and left my gear with our crew!  And then immediately took on the first hill.

It was like an instant transformation.   Suddenly I was alive.  The pain was still there, but my body flowed smoothly.  My mental game was where it needed to be.  There would be no slowing down from here.  Originally I’d planned to go out moderately strong, survive the early hills, crush the middle miles, survive the back hills and finish strong.  Ohh yeah… and I wanted to make sure I beat all my old teammates!  The new plan involved continuous improvement:  Negative splits – despite the hills.  I caught up with Vin again.   His race strategy had been to take the first half easy, so after a short time running with him, I picked up the pace.  Still no sign of Matt and Kevin, we’d lost them somewhere before the start.

Halfway through the run, channeling his inner Coach Ford Sr., JT was out there on the bike to cheer us along.  HEY NOW PREP!!!!  Dahhhhh!  John, check the shorts!  I got the boost I needed, and picked it up a little more.  A little later on I see him again: how far ahead are the other guys?  Turns out, they’re not.  I’m into the last 5 miles – MR8K to go.  This is where I am strongest.  I just have to hold on through the hills.  I didn’t realize it, but Matt was just a tiny bit behind.  As we approach the toughest hills, Matt and I are side by side, the infamous Torpedo is just ahead.  I know I’m going to falter on the hills, so I accelerate into them.   I’ve got a slight lead as we hit the incline.  I’m left in the dust as we climb.  We hit the peak, and I immediately accelerate, closing the gap that had opened on the hill.  No sooner do I catch up, but the road slopes upward again.  Time for the worst hill of the race.  I take the hill hard, but I suck at the climb… I’m still losing ground.  I maintain that effort level.  When the climbing stops, I start moving.  I’m actually feeling fairly good, and my goal time of 1:35 is in reach if I work these last few miles.  I continue to accelerate.  I hear two random guys saying to each other they aren’t going to let me beat them as I pass.  I laugh to myself.  I’m on fire right now.  The hills are done, I’m feeling strong.  Nobody is passing me these last few miles.  I pick up the pace even more.  We run by Kevin’s family, but I’m so in the zone I don’t notice it until after passing them.  Shortly down the road, we turn left and approach Jennings Beach.  HEY NOW PREP!  A nice strong finish, and right on schedule with 1:35, my tenth Fairfield Half Marathon is in the books.

I’d won the Prep Millennium Division – a solid accomplishment.  Once upon a time, those guys were so far ahead of me, but now it’s my time.  Despite all the drama, now I’m in the best running shape of my life.  I feast on the post race fruit and pizza.  Unfortunately with the weather, it was not a good beach day… still we hung on the beach for a while, new friends and old, to celebrate another great run.  Some things never change.

20 Years Now • Fairfield Road Races 5K & Fairfield Prep 5K, Fairfield, CT, USA

This weekend trip had a dual purpose:  not only was I here to run another few races, but it was also my 20 year high school reunion.  Man, just saying that makes me sound old!  It was over half my life ago that I roamed the halls of Fairfield Prep,  It has been decades since my teammates blazed through that Wickham Park 5K course to a dominating victory in the CIAC State Open Championship.  My four years at Prep, running for our cross country and track teams, are largely responsible for the man I am today.  It was there that I developed from a depressed and miserable child, gaining the confidence, courage and strength that have carried me so far since.   It was there that I found my faith, my foundation and myself.  I entered those double doors for the first time empty and lonely.  I walked out of them four years later a new man: a ‘man for others’ molded by the values of our Jesuit education.

So much has changed since then, yet so much remains the same.  Gone is my childish innocence:  I’d lived a fairly sheltered life.  Much of the turmoil and strife I’d learned about were only in textbooks; conflicts that seemed only academic… not real.  Now it’s different.  I’ve survived terrorism, battled corruption, and faced some of humanities darkest manifestations.  Yet those four years taught me the most important lesson of all: there is more that unites us, than that divides us.  Although the most powerful displays of that lesson were years in my future, it was here that I first discovered hope for humanity and our future.

In those days, running was central to my life.  Although I didn’t exactly enjoy it for the first ten months, during the summer between my freshman and sophomore year I fell in love.  The freedom of self-propulsion, the physical and psychological benefits of the sport, and the human bonds that it formed… running defined my life and my growth.  I’d lost that passion for a while… but in recent years I’ve picked up where I left off.  Running is once again central to my life.  In some ways, right now, it’s almost all I have left.  So, yes, I was excited to be back.  I was excited to reconnect with old faces and places.  I’m not sure what life will bring in the years that come, but I know the strength and values that my time at Prep developed will guide me through it.  This weekend, I’d celebrate the 20 year roller coaster ride that my life has been in the best way possible: running with some of the best friends I’ve ever had.

A few years back, the folks at JB Sports split the half marathon and 5K to different days.  Soon after the Lucas Challenge was born: Lucas being the Fairfield University mascot.  This year, to increase the chances of ideal racing weather, the race was moved forward two weeks from late June.  I was fired up when I heard that… although not because I cared about the race weather.  More importantly, now race weekend was reunion weekend.  I wasn’t going to be able to fly back to CT twice in June, now I didn’t need to.  Lucas Challenge here I come!  But wait… there’s more.   For the first time this year, Prep decided to host a 5K fun run as part of reunion weekend.  Would it be possible to do both?  The Fairfield Road Races 5K was at Jennings Beach at 8am.  One hour later on campus the Prep run would begin.  Since it was only two miles away… it was possible!  So I challenged my cross country teammates to the first annual “Jesuit Challenge”: dual 5Ks on Saturday and half marathon on Sunday.

Out of my group, Vin was the only other one crazy enough to accept that challenge.  Another younger Prep alum and cross country superstar also joined the fun.  On a very hot and humid Saturday morning, the three of us lined up with the crowd by Jennings Beach ready to take on the first 5K.  This was a good sized race with some solid runners: there was prize money on the line.  I knew I wasn’t going to be running a super fast time in the half (too many hills), so I decided to make this first 5K my hardest push for the weekend.  I’ve been hurting recently, so I knew that a PR wasn’t likely… but I’ll be damned if I wasn’t going to give it a go.  I started off strong.  My first half mile was right on schedule at about 5:40 pace, but I struggled a bit from there, slowing to just over 6 minute pace for the remainder.  With the heat today, I used the water stops to dump some cold water on my head.  It was a short race, so I wasn’t worried about hydration.  As I knew I was running slower than I’d hoped, the time clocks at the mile markers were a bit disheartening but definitely convenient and helped keep me from getting lazy.  20 years ago, my track PR at Prep was 18:15.  In cross country, my best performance was a 19:07.  Today, I’d come in at right around that mark with a 19:04, good enough for second in my age group.

With one down and one to go, Vin and I hopped in the car and drove to Prep (time was a little too tight to jog there).  Here there was a decidedly more relaxed vibe, and a much smaller crowd of about 100 runners and walkers, including a handful of mid 90’s cross country guys and a lot of the current runners.  No bells and whistles, no pressure… just a fun run.  Ready, set… the megaphone horn failed.  OK, let’s try that again.  Ready, set, go!  We were off, immediately starting with a nice uphill.  Did I mention how much I hate hills?  It took me a while to get in my groove, and even when I did I wasn’t going all out for this run.  I’d enjoy it.  This was a nice little tour of campus, allowing me to see just how much had changed in the 20 years I’d been gone.  Some things, like the universities crumby gravel track still remained.  2.9 miles later, ending with another uphill, I hit the finish.  Now the fun part: reconnecting with fellow Prep runners over a nicely catered breakfast.  I’d be spending a lot of time in the quad today: Tonight I’d be back for the 20 year reunion dinner!  Much has has changed since then.  My love of alma mater and running never will!