Open Letter to the Shawnee State Cross Country Team

 I was a walk-on nobody from Toledo, Ohio who had a low grade point average and had ran mediocre times in high school. I didn’t get accepted into most of the colleges I applied to, so Shawnee State was kind of a no-other-option school for me. Like any runner, I’ve had many up’s and down’s in my career. In high school I was a kid who couldn’t break 4:46 in the open mile, now I can average faster then that for five thousand meters. Four years have quickly passed, and I honestly can say I feel extremely blessed to be given the opportunity to train under Eric Putnam, to have met some of the best teammates that I can call my friends, and to lead my team into the 2012 Cross Country season to what could be the highest placing National Championships in school history.

            I’m not going to make this a Wikipedia page about myself, so I will cut to the chase. This paper is going to be very scattered, and at times it might seem like I’m crazy. I hope to make this a helpful tool for you, as incoming freshmen and returning runners, that you can use to help put your running into prospective and give the incoming freshmen a good understanding of how our team operates.

            We have a melting pot of runners on our team. People from the north, people from the south, Indiana, West Virginia, Kentucky and the talent is not lacking what so ever. Everyone has their own racing style, unique in every way, from what kind of music they like to what interval repeats work for them as runners. Shawnee States’ running program is known for their hard work ethic, tough workouts, and laid back demeanor.  We have built this program up from scratch, and continue to improve every year.

            Every runner that has clocked his or her time at this university understands what it is like to be the “underdog”. To train on a track, which some people might call a four-hundred meter parking lot, to live and train in a town that has one of the worst prescription drug problems in the United States. Over the years I’ve often daydreamed about what it would be like to run at a top-level Division I University. To have access to anything I needed or wanted, have a multitude of trainers and coaches, endless equipment, training as if the Olympics were only a couple months away. We must realize that our surroundings are nothing more then the ground we cover and the air we breathe. Personally, I think the lack of facilities makes us stronger, by eliminating the opportunities to sit out or take it easy; we build up a callousness and become mentally strong. We’re a team that consistently day in and day out runs miles, and with the build up of these miles comes results.

            Running eight miles around Portsmouth on the “Zig-Zag” loop is no different then what those guys and girls do out west or anywhere else. Sure, there are different attributes like aerobic benefits of running at altitude, or different resistance to the legs, when comparing soft compact trails to running on the road -- But, what it comes down to is this -- a mile is measured five thousand two hundred and eighty feet in Ohio and five thousand two hundred and eighty feet in Oklahoma, Oregon or Colorado. Accepting and realizing this has taken me many years and many miles, and I hope that you too may understand that there is indeed no secret to our sport.

            What I’m trying to get at is this, training day in and day out, consistently, year round is what makes the difference between mediocre and elite athletes. All of those Runners World fanatics, Zen runners, euphoria seeking joggers, who all believe in the poetry of jogging around their nice manicured parks have no idea what its like to really embrace the pain of a long drawn out and taxing interval session. They are nowhere to be found in the mornings when we are greeted, not with the morning sunshine, but with a cold and gloomy rainfall on waller street. These people want to be categorized as endeavors of our sport, but never really truly understand what its like to be a runner.

            I love to compete, I love breaking records and racing the clock and without running I wouldn’t be the person I am today. There is a quote from my all time favorite running book Once a Runner (which I encourage everyone to read, if you haven’t already) that puts collegiate running and the balance of training into perspective …

            “Training was a rite of purification; from it came speed, strength. Racing was a rite of death; from it came knowledge. Such rites demand, if they are to meaningful at all, a certain amount of time spent precisely on the Red Line, where you can lean over the manicured putting green at the edge of the precipice and see exactly nothing”.

            Often times we will be doing the same thing four or five times a week every single week. This may get extremely boring, but you must remember consistency breeds results. I challenge you, incoming freshmen and returning athletes, to truly become endeavors of our sport.  Freshmen, you cannot sit back and rely on talent alone to get you through these next four to five years. You must put in hard work day in and day out. I’m not saying it’s going to be a cakewalk. All you need is already inside each of one you. No matter what kind of technology or scientific methods other teams seem to embrace, nothing is more important and utilized more in training then your own personal will and drive.

            Being an exercise science major I feel as if I should mention there are also a million different things that go into being a top-level runner then just running mileage. The summer months are emphasized on slowly building up your aerobic base and preparing your body to, when the time is necessary, run fast and efficient for the duration of a certain distance. Our season starts in mid August and ends with the conclusion of Nationals in late November – Roughly fifteen weeks or 105 days. You are going to be experiencing new workouts, running longer runs then you have in high school, and overall higher mileage. With this new work load often times results in major or minor muscle strains, tightness, and different aches and pains if you are not adequately prepared. A good way to prepare yourself for the long season is to incorporate a small strength routine into your training. Two to three times a week do a core routine, and a general light-weight/high-rep workout in the weight room. This will build up your posture and ensure good form and a strong efficient cadence so your body can balance out the continuous pounding you will endure. (If any of you have questions or would like me to make up a routine for you, don’t hesitate to ask I have plenty of ideas and programs).

            Understand what you need to do in order to better yourself as a person and as an athlete. Realize that there is only one thing in this world that can hold you back from achieving your potential, and that is yourself. We put limitations on ourselves every day of our life. In track we are painfully and constantly aware of how we stack up, not just with our contemporaries but with our historical counterparts as well… it’s all there in black and white. Whether we’re first, third, or a hundred and ninety seventh at any given point we are reminded of this daily by the latest results or poles through various rankings.

            We must ignore the politics that come along with being a top-ranked program, and learn to talk not with our mouths, but with our legs. We have a chance to, once again, put Shawnee State distance running on the national map. We have an incredible incoming class, both men’s and women’s teams. As I enter my last year of eligibility as a Shawnee State Bear, I want to make the best memories that I can to look back on years from now and smile, knowing I did absolutely everything I could to achieve my own personal goals, as well as the teams goals.

            This team has been through a lot especially in these past couple years, but when times get rough we stick together as a family and look out for one another no matter how bad the situation gets. As Eric Putnam always says, “The train is gonna keep on moving. You’re ether on it, or you’re off it”. Trust in him, dedicate two hours of your day, do what he says, and I promise you are going to succeed as a runner and grow as a person. It will take time to figure out what works for each one of you. You’re going to get injured, be extremely sore at times, have trouble walking after long runs at hangover, but if you train smart, live a healthy lifestyle, and fully commit to Eric’s training there is no doubt in my mind you will be a successful runner and become Bears.

I’d like to leave you off with a quote from Bill Bowerman that seems to fit with what I’m trying to say…

             “Running, one might say, is basically an absurd pastime upon which to be exhausting ourselves. But if you can find meaning in the type of running you need to do to stay on this team, chances are you'll be able to find meaning in that other absurd pastime - LIFE.”

I hope everyone is having a good summer. Keep up those miles, and enjoy the sunshine.

- Blake Wysocki

14:49.31

 As I head to the track with my spike bag in hand, I notice the men of the first section of the five thousand meter run going about their routines of last minute strides, shaking off nervous twitches, and dynamically stretching their slow twitching muscles. I sit on the track and bring in the late night atmosphere of Jesse Owens stadium. I go about my own routines obsessive compulsively tying up my two-toned bright yellow and red Nike victory spikes. As it takes more time then I’d like to admit, I gradually stand up and great the loud crack of the starters pistol sending off two dozen of the fastest Midwest long distance runners on there chase.

 I very lightly jog down the backstretch to check myself in and receive three numbers. I am instructed to place one number on both hips, and one on my left chest. The number reads 21. It represents my place to which I have been seeded with the total number of people in the race. My predicted time, 15:00 ranks me twenty first out of 28 people.

As I jog around, nervously shaking out already loose legs, I take short glances at the men as the click of meters in tenths of a second. I pay attention to the race progress and figure out how many minutes I have before my own battle.

We are called to the start of the race, but quickly are drawn back to shake out our legs as the track official says we must wait for the baseball games’ firework smoke to ensure it doesn’t creep its way into the atmosphere of the track. Five minutes turns into ten, as the runners (including myself) are annoyed. Finally after some explosions in the sky the wind direction ensured us we would not be breathing in toxic fumes we are, again, called to the line. I sit on the second waterfall line in lane five, and given instructions to cut it around the first turn.

Crack! I’m out fast, comfortable, but aggressive, I quickly hug the fifth lane line, and watch as the small cones go by in a flash. I cut in and I’m greeted with open track in the night sky. “Fuck, what am I doing!?”… I find myself leading the first 800 meters, a fashion I typically don’t get into, but I settle myself down, and clip away 72’s like its my job.

A bit unsettled, I intentionally fall back on my heels a bit to let some Ohio State and unattached runners go by and take the rebating duties. As it gets string out for a second or two, I sit fourth in a very tight pack on the rail. Perfect, just settle in. As I am enjoying the view, I hear Eric’s voice amid the clapping of spikes, and not to shortly am joined by the man himself shoulder to shoulder with me as we go through the first mile in 4:45. The pace feels like child’s play, as I start to get nervous we might be slowing down. I try to calm my nerves, and bottle them up, as Chuck Wentz is quick to yell out 71 and 72’s around the 200 meter mark.

Eric takes the lead, as he might be feeling that same thing I am, and I’m content to sit in the packs’ back pocket and hang on. I am constantly reminded that there are anywhere from six to ten people chomping at my heels as I am getting clipped from behind more then I can count. The heel of my spikes continue to get hit, but I refuse to leave the rail. This does not help my anxiousness.

Finally, we are around the backstretch approaching the second mile mark, which is where Eric has planed on dropping off. As I quickly get out of the tight pack, make a surge and as I go by Eric his encouraging words propel me into gapping the field by thirty meters and quickly blaze through the 3200 mark in a perfectly planed out 9:28.

1800 meters left, and the past two miles felt like conversational pace. The announcer is quick to call out my move to the stands, as his words are fueling my rhythm. I remind myself to stay controlled but be confident. At times out in front it can be blurry and loud, or it can be complete stillness and quit. I guess I was experiencing both, as I start to get that tingling throughout my body, which I’ve come to realize many times before. Lactic Acid is weighing me down, as my glycogen levels are draining out. I am searching for any left of carbohydrates that I can quickly convert into ATP and continue this push.

Everything begins to become blurry as I try the last ditch effort to start breaking up the distance left from me and the line. When you’re in this state, simple math becomes a foreign language. The breaking up of meters, and time become an almost impossible task, but you cannot help yourself from continuingly making calculation after recalculation.

I find myself holding on for dear life, as I realize around 1100 meters that though the lap counter says 2 laps, I in fact have more then 800 meters. I quickly get swallowed up by a surging pack. I focus on their tiny neck hairs and nothing else. I try to stay in focus, but am fading quickly. 1000 meters becomes 800 meters, becomes 700 meters, as I am breaking up the distance in 100 meter marks. I had this feeling, a pity for myself, that I had to go or everything I just worked for was going to be for nothing.

I dug down and found something, and with 400 meters to go I opened up my tightly gripped palms, spread open my fingers, and gave the straight arm sprinters approach in a last ditch effort to cover ground as quickly as possible. I swallow up a fellow runner and burn down the homestretch as I try not to look at the clock, but more focus on that little white line. That mark means life again, and at this point I need to be free from the nightmare going on inside my body.

I cross the line in 14:49.31

At that moment my life changed.