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.

The Future

As my boring consistent life goes on day by day, and without much to write about, I'd thought I would write up a quick blog about what I want my future to look like.

This summer I got accepted for a twelve week internship at an athletic performance center called Athletic Evolution. I will be spending twelve weeks living in Woburn, Massachusetts, which is just twelve miles north of Boston. My days will consist of leading groups of athletes through a multitude of workouts which include a dynamic warm-up, core stabilization- abs, trunk work. balance, plyometrics- power improving drills, agility and footwork drills- jumping rope, agility ladder, cones, speed- resistance running, assistance running, cardiovascular Endurance- conditioning, and flexibility...

Basically, I will be doing what I love every day, in a positive atmosphere, and I'm extremely excited. As I have been talking with the administrative staff at Athletic Evolution, they mentioned how many athletes they have, who run Track or Cross Country, and they don't have anyone on staff with the knowledge or background of these endurance sports. This may become a great opportunity to get a job and work at AE right out of undergraduate studies. At times like these, jobs don't come around much, and I feel really blessed to have the opportunity to start my career at such a great facility.

I've been doing a lot of research, and thought about my running career once I'm done with college. As of now, I have one year of eligibility left in Cross Country and one year in Track, and I'm currently on a club team called Runners Plus Elite during the off-season, which I run local races around the Dayton area -- But, if do plan on moving to Massachusetts and still want to pursue my running career I need to find a solid group to train with.

I've found an elite running club called New Balance Boston which has a moderately tight performance standards, and perks that go along with reaching different "levels" based on the times you've ran. This list has given me an extra motivational factor to lower my times in the next 15 months I have as a collegiate runner. Below you will find the three levels and the time unites associated with each one.

Men	Level 1	Level 2	Level 3
.
.	800	01:54.0	01:56.0	01:58.0
.
.	1500	3:52	3:57	4:02
.	Mile	4:09	4:15	4:20
.
.	3000	8:20	8:35	8:50
.
.	5000	14:35	14:50	15:30
.
.	10000	30:40:00	31:15:00	32:30:00

Level 1 - Meets Level 1 performance standards * full kit (uniform, warm-ups and some alternative uniform options) * shoes: 4 trainers, 1 racing flat, 1 XC spike, and 1 track spike per year * entry fees paid for XC and track * discretionary equipment and travel funding * opportunity to purchase additional equipment at discount Level 2 - Meets Level 2 performance standards (or Top 5 team finish at New England XC Championships) * standard kit (uniform and warm-ups) * shoes: 2 trainers, 1 racing flat, and choice of 1 XC or track spike per year * entry fees paid for XC and track * discretionary equipment and travel funding * opportunity to purchase additional equipment at discount Level 3 - Meets Level 3 performance standards * annual club dues: $150 Upon payment of club dues, Tier 3 athletes are entitled to: * standard kit (uniform and warm-ups, optional equip available for purchase) * shoes: choice of 1 racing flat, 1 XC spike, or 1 track spike per year (expected to wear NB at all competitions) * entry fees paid for XC and track * opportunity to purchase additional equipment at discount

To be able to pursue my running after college, and work in a athletic based facility is absolutely my ideal world. I am extremely blessed to be given this opportunity and I'm going to work had to makes these dreams become reality.

A Day In The Life

6:45am – Alarm goes off, it’s another morning brought in my Deer Tick’s “Not So Dense”. The heavy guitar strums awake me in an annoyed frenzy to shut it off. I lay there contemplating moving or getting up at all. I remember I have an 8 0’clock Kinesiology class followed by lab, which I contemplate skipping for the first time this year just for a few more hours of shut eye. After weighing the pros and cons, half asleep, terrified I may not be able to choose any longer if I do fall back asleep, I pull myself out of the high bed and drag myself into the bathroom.

Routines. My morning is filled with them. Go to the bathroom, wash face, make coffee, toast bagels, bowl of cereal (this morning’s choice is a healthy bowl of Kellogg’s pops). As I leave the bathroom, I remembered last night I let pup and rock-o inside due to the dense cold. They great me at the bathroom door with some licks and wagging tails. As I make my way across the chilly hardwood floor, I open the door and say my goodbyes to the dogs. I throw on some heavy layers of clothes, its roughly twenty degrees out this morning. I barley have enough time to sit at the breakfast bar, and eat my cereal, apply peanut butter and honey to my bagel and take a couple sips of coffee, until I notice the clock says 7:25. I scarf down all the food I can, and fill up my tumbler of coffee, grab my bags and head out.

The thirty minute drive into town is spent catching up on National Public Radio’s (NPR) news of the day. I try to make sense of today’s political jabber, but remembered I had my ipod with me, and get annoyed very easy with the arguing. I put it on shuffle, sip coffee and bring in Scioto County’s sunrise.

7:57am – I arrive three minutes before eight. After giving up trying to find any decent parking space, in an already crowded lot, I park by the police station and proceed on a steady powerful walk to Massie Hall. I climb up to the second floor, with a good high knee bounce in my stride, make my way to room 206, and walk into the class, and retrieve today's lecture power points with a minute to spare. I sit down and get comfortable. Today’s lecture will be about biomechanics, and the next hour and five minutes are spent getting hit with a hundred different terms, differential human movements, and everything in-between. I’m on a good 3-4 cups of coffee by now, but my morning buzz is starting to wear off. Luckily, biomechanics is something that really grabs my interest, so it doesn’t give much to keep a watchful eye and listening ear.

9:15am – We head to the third floor for the second part of class, which today will consist of a bone and joint identification lab. While many students work in groups, looking at different bones, taking there time in-between to talk about jersey shore, and asking stupid questions, I am making check marks and highlighting words my lab packet in a quick and efficient pace. We are given about fifty body parts including, femur, hand, wrist, fibula, tibia, etc… After forty five minutes, I remembered last night contemplating waking up at 6am, and running a very dark and cold five miler before I head into town, or opting to get some sleep and running after lab. I opted on number two, yesterday’s workout, though fairly short but fast on the track, left my right soleus muscle (shin-splints) a bit tight and painful.


10:00am – After finishing up marking and identifying every bone in our lab, I make my way to the gym. Only a couple of people are there shooting around, and doing some sprints. I quickly change into half tights, a light half-zip, and gloves. As I walk outside to start, there is still a fright chill in the air, making me wish I would of packed full-tights and a hat. I save the previous time on my chronograph (25:36 – 3.5 mile cool down from yesterday’s run), start my watch from zero, and head out on the morning route which many bears before me know quite well. As I notice an annoying small pain in my shin, I think about jumping on the grassy floodwall for an out and back, but decide against it because it would be easier to break up the morning run and get some splits.

The usual things run through my head… “what homework or tests do I have coming up?”, “I’m very hungry”, “I wish it was spring”… and this weekend’s race usually slips in there, probably me going into the last lap making a move right before the last turn and holding a good lead through the line… I reach the turnaround in 7:07 pace, and calculate I’ll probably average right under 7:05 due to the downhill, and warming up on the way back to campus. At 2.8 miles, an elderly lady had her dog run off the porch, and starting yipping at me. I look back and notice she is yelling for her dog to come back to her. I felt bad, so I tried reaching for the little thing to come to me so I could grab it and give it back to her, but after a good five minutes and playing chase and attack, I gave up. I started to get chilled, and needed to get back on the road, so I took off. I heard the women yelling at her dog more, but I thought after a couple hundred yards under seven minute pace the dog would give up. I looked back, after hearing the lady calling still, but he was in no sight, so once again I let my mind slip into a haze.

I get back to the gym in 35:17. (7:03 pace) I decided a good stretch is in order, I was pretty tight the entire morning, and after warming up the muscles it was a great time to get the rust of the of legs. I flip over one of the golfing mats on the stage and spend fifteen minutes holding stretches 25-30 seconds. After going about my routine, I stand up and do a quick hurdle routine I’ve come to love, learning it through a Jay Johnson video over winter break. After, I set up my phone to Pandora’s Cold War Kids station, and as I start doing the Team Indiana Elite core workout (minus the strides). A good hour has went by after starting the run, and after the workout is complete, I change, splash water on my face trying to clean up as much as possible, and head to Shawnees local café, called the Bears Den for some lunch.

11:30am – I notice Eric Putnam was with a younger kid and an older lady. A recruit! Awesome, I thought. I make my way over there and I’m greeted by Eric who introduces me to Donaven, a senior out of Grove city, and respectable runner. After a quick handshake and some words, I make my way see what the den has to offer today. In the grill station, a Sedexo lady is cooking up fresh peppers, and shrimp. I decide to get a bowl, and a big plate of spaghetti and meatballs, salad, and two glasses of chocolate milk and make my way to the big round table.

I take my time and conversating with everyone, as more runners pile into the café for lunch. Done with classes for today, I sit back, enjoy and take part in the different topics.

12:30pm -The decide to try and take a nap at my girlfriend Jamie’s dorm. We watch some sort of western documentary on the History Channel and drift in and out of sleep. The small twin bed can be a bit of a challenge to get comfortable, but this morning’s routine left me sleepy.

2:00pm – Jamie has practice, so I head to the library and spend a good bit of time watching flotrack videos, lurking on Letsrun threads, and doing what every collegiate runner does when given free time and a computer.

2:45pm – I notice I’m starting to get the afternoon heaviness, and decide to make a trip to Starbucks. I am greeted by my old manager, a fake cheesy smile, and a couple of “how do ya does”, and I order a double shot of espresso, and a cinnamon scone. I notice an older customer sitting at the table that I’ve come to talk to over the years. I greeted him and spent forty five minutes drinking coffee and talking about nutrition… “That’s what wrong with America. Portion sizes, High-Fructose corn syrup, and welfare”… I notice it’s almost 3:30pm, and planned on heating my shin before practice, so I said my goodbyes and headed back to the trainers.

3:30pm – I walk into the trainers, noticing the head trainer, doing some sort of ab-workout, sweating profusely; I grabbed a towel, heating pad, and strap for myself. I click on some tunes with my ipod and relax, letting the heat seep deep into my muscles in my lower right leg. I am very specific that I heat for exactly ten minutes, I keep a watchful eye on the time, and after that ten minutes passed I head back down stairs to be greeted by some of the guys on the team who are getting ready for practice. We quickly are drawn to the gym floor, and basketballs are swirling through the air, usually hitting the rims and bouncing off, or missing the hoop completely. Are lack of athletic talent is shown, as basketballs quickly become hazardous missiles thrown about in the air.

4:05pm – The team heads out for yet another two mile warm up, this time Galen Dills and I lead the team and decide to run the loop that has come to be known as, “Michael Owen two-mile loop”. We swing around the biker club, and after two hundred yards or so, we turn around at an old road and I check the first mile, 7:07. Not too fast, I thought. As we retrace our steps back to the gym, Breydon, Galen, and I are up front talking about tattoos and girls usually. Typical conversing. We stop just short of the gym entrance and I check my watch. 13:41. Whoops. That last mile of the “warm-up” was 6:34. Shin was feeling pretty good tough so I wasn’t worried. As we stretch and go about our small routines, I pay close attention to my lower legs and make sure they are warmed up and fully stretched out.

We planned earlier in the week, about running out at the forest for some trail action today, but after having a recruit here and running with us, I opted to cancel today's trip to make sure we are here as a team for the senior. “Sprint Drillizs, COMON’!!!” Eric Putnam’s voice echoes over the gym, as we make our way to the alumni-green for some typical high knees, butt kicks, etc... After our last stride, I yelled, “Huddle!” The team, hands on each others shoulders, come together, and we decided the route for today. Some want Kentucky, Some want Zig-Zag, but a lot of runners are only going 45 minutes, so we agree for an out and back on the floodwall would be nice.

We set out, and once up on the grassy hill, I loosen up nicely, and we carry an easy 7:10 pace, talking about the usual stuff. Behind the floodwall, after two miles, it becomes very muddy, as we jump and hurdle large mud pit’s, and try to keep our feet dry as long as possible. Twenty two minutes and thirty seconds we turn back, and head west back to campus. Eric Putnam and I are, once again, in a pretty heavy musical discussion. He herd Bruce Springsteen’s new single today off his upcoming album, and had to explain how good it was.

Once back on the floodwall, two miles from campus, I was thankful I had a high collar half –zip. I quickly push the zipper all the way up, so my neck is saved from the typical eastern chilly winds. Once back on campus, the forty five minute guys drop off, Joe Stewart, Derek Ryan, Chuck Wentz and myself head out along the murals. We go out about five minutes, and head back. Chuck’s Garmin had 7.45, living by the clock, we add on, running laps around the alumni green until that little beep on his watch goes off.

5:30pm – We are going about our post-run stretches to some new age rap music being played over the loud speakers. The Shawnee State’s women’s basketball team has a game at 6pm, and there are shooting around going about their own rituals. I convince Breydon to come to the gym and lift with me. As we head to the weight room, today's focus is biceps, triceps, and forearms. After a good fifty minutes of curls, triceps kick-backs, wrist curls, etc… We decided to do the second part of the workout which is a core circuit of back extensions, abductor machine, sit-ups, med ball side-to-sides, etc…

6:45pm – After a long hour and fifteen in the gym, both of us are spent. Some of the guys are heading to b-dubs for boneless wing night, but I had previous plans. I was on the verge of death, starving so bad I decided to swing through Arby’s drive through for a couple of chicken sandwiches off their dollar menu. First time I had fast food in months, I try to be positive about it, and as I scarf down the delicious but tiny sandwiches. I parked my car outside the campus view dorms, and make my way to Jamie’s. I am greeted and let inside, where I become very very thirsty. I quickly take down a good thirty ounces of cool-aid I find in the fridge.

7:30pm - We head back out to my car, and drive the half mile to Holiday Inn. We act as casual as we can, as we walk by the front desk into the pool room, making no eye contact and making sure no questions are asked. I change into my running shorts and crawl into the hot tub. The daily tolls of a fifteen mile day, two core workouts and upper body routine are weighing down on me, as I find it very easy relax and let the small jets push against my back.

8:00pm – I drop Jamie off back at her dorm, she had previous plans with her friends to attend to men’s basketball game tonight, and I head back out on the road and make the long trip back North West to the cabin.

8:30pm – After I arrive back home, I turn on Serious-XM’s university station, and spend an hour cleaning up my vics, and packing. There is still a good bit of dirt from last time these multi-colored victory spikes have seen the ground. November 19th, 2011 Vancouver, Washington. That’s a story by itself, and one I rarely want to talk about. I grabbed my collection of spikes, and remembered when I was out west for Nationals I got twelve blue needle spikes from the Nike Store in Eugene, Oregon. I decided to wrench them in, and spent a couple minutes lurking at the beauty. My heart starts to thump and a quick shot of adrenaline shoot up my neck, but I quickly shut it down. "Not yet", I remind myself.

9:30pm – After packing my bag for the weekend, and getting stuff situated for school for the upcoming day, I go outside to use the bathroom and to bring in the starry cold night. Pup and Rock-o quickly notice the open opportunity and run inside the cabin. Yet again it’s a very chilly night, so I accept another night with the pups and agree to let them crash on the couch together.

Back in the warmth of my bed, I spend about thirty minutes screaming through four chapters in “Again to Carthage”, and have to force myself to put it down.

10:00pm – I notice the clock, and with a 7:45am wake up call the next morning I decided to turn the Lights out. I’ve brushed my teeth, face is washed, iron, multi-vitamin, and fish oil are taken, and I’m left with the days and the future thoughts to float around in my head. I begin to think about this season opener Saturday at Marietta. Once again I get myself quickly worked up, so I change up my thoughts, and only after a couple minutes I drift into a very deep deep slumber.

Building The Orb



These past couple years I've made myself in-prisoned in this image. Forcing to accept what I think is going to build me up when such things can cause me to fall apart. It takes sacrifices to get to your dreams. which I think I understood at a young age, but the temptations throughout the year, and the weight on my shoulders cause me to be soft often. I need to learn what is important, and carve myself into stone.

Knowing the task you set yourself up for, and understanding the commitment of this task can be two completely different windows to most people. Hell, even I sometimes take door number two -But, for once in my life I am truly ready give up any personal ambitions outside of the task in order to achieve greatness.

It's taken a lot of harsh terms for me to try to find meaning and balance in the type of life I live. Really, I wish this kind of youth on no one. The balance between complete sanity and living on the edge can be very thin.

Everyone always wants the trophy, championship ring, or self satisfaction but few of them really understand what those select few have to go through in order to be at the top. I've gone through a tremendous amount of up and downs in my life, only to come out on the other side, repeating the process over and over again. There is always going to be the summer of the mileage, the winter of strength, but never again will I be able to re-live my youth. But; after everything is all said and done I hope to be able to look back and say it was worth it all.

You might be wondering what I am trying to get at.  I really don't know myself. I guess what I am hooping if I write out what's in my head something will appear, and life will make sense. You live and learn, fall and try to get back up. Don't sweat the little things they say, but sometimes its like little things that define you.

I think that is why I am so obsessed with music. I try to find meaning in the lyrics and rhythm, and its never really let me down unlike most of things in my life. the simplicity and realistic tones of music create a vision in which I know there are bigger and better things out there. I try to find these things by attaching myself onto people or objects that make me feel happy or loved, but often these feelings never last. I've found relationships very hard to deal with. Often, I'm usually the one who is all over the place. Never settled with what I have, and always out to try to find bigger and better things. I hate the fact that I feel like I will never truly be happy until I'm out west someplace in a nice home, with a beautiful wife, children and a stable job. Though, this might never happen in my lift, its nice to think about and it helps pass the time. These thoughts I create inside myself help keep me going, hooping something productive will come out of them - But, after its all said and done I've always came to the conclusion there is nothing as concrete and real to me as my running.

"My only real secret was, commitment to the task. A promise so simple, but so impossibly hard to honor. How they could be expected to understand that"?...

I must put everything on hold, build up the orb so nothing can touch it, and commit myself completely and 100%.

Normality

I’ve decided it would be best to scratch Kent State December 9^th, and take my time off. I had a lot of time (more then I’d like to admit) making decisions on this upcoming spring battle on that silly oval, and could go into great detail, but I’m afraid that we would be here all night. As of now, I have a couple races in February that I’d like to do well in, and not running at Kent will allow sufficient time to do so.

I’ve put together a particularly detailed plan on mileage, workouts, strength routines and what not, which will take over my life once again, for roughly twenty-four weeks until the 2012 NAIA outdoor T & F national championships.

I am certainly enjoying my time off from aerobic work, but that feeling is starting to re-build itself once again. It’s been only five days into my break, and the sensation of dropping everything and letting loose on the roads is tingling in my legs. In this short thirteen day break, I will spend living one might call, the average college quest. Staying out late, getting rowdy at the bars, and trying to put together a some what respectable academic semester. As December 12^th gets here I will once again live the life of one who balances on the edge of mental breakdown, and absolute clarity.

But, for now I must use my brain in other means, which involves paper and writing utensils. As for my goals and ambitions for this upcoming season, perhaps with the loneliness of a winter spent alone in Toledo will give me some time to type up what is in my head.

(Re-reading my favorite novel for the fifth time, I’ve come across one of the most well written literature that I truly love. Hope you enjoy it as much as I do)

“We can all be good boys and wear our letter sweaters around and get our little degrees and find some nice girl to settle, you know down, with… take up what a friend of ours calls the hearty challenges of lawn care… Or we can blaze! Become legends in our own time, strike fear in the heart of mediocre talent everywhere! We can scald dogs, put records out of reach! Make the stands gasp as we blow into an unearthly kick from the hundred yards out! We can become God’s own messengers delivering the dreaded scrolls! We can race dark Satan himself till he wheezes fiery cinders down the back straightaway! They’ll speak our names in hushed tones, ‘those guys are animals’ they’ll say! We can lay it on the line, bust a gut, show them a clean pair of heels. We can sprint the turn on a spring breeze and feel the winter leave our feet. We can, by God, let our demons loose and just wail on!”

Never Gonna Give You Up

As I was walking around on campus today it began raining steadily as it does often in Portsmouth, and I got hit with that cool leafy smell of fall. The small that triggers one thing Cross Country, and I felt as if I have to give up the sport for another six months. Like we broke up or something. The sport that has been the most pleasurably and the most hateful thing that consumed my every thought since June. I have to say goodbye to.

Well, I thought to myself, I don't wanna give up just yet. I am in the best shape of my career, and with a good bit left in the tank I've planed a couple of races in the upcoming weeks.

Before I sit and reflect on the season and Nationals I will give you a glimpse ahead of the upcoming weeks.

This Thanksgiving I will be running the East Side Turkey Trot in Oregon, Ohio along side my older brother Jeremy and Sister in-law Kara. I am the returning champ, and plan to bring home the stunning $100 gift card to Second Sole and frozen turkey.

Also, In exactly two weeks and five days from today I will be giving my best efforts in breaking the fifteen minute barrier in a five thousand meters indoor track race at Kent State University on December 9th. This is something I've wanted for many of years, and I feel with a couple weeks worth of hard fast interval sessions on the track I will be able to break it.

So, I guess this is the time I talk about that silly five mile race in Washington. Going into the race I had a great deal of pressure on myself to help lead the pack through two miles. This was the plan for Mid-South, and since it worked out well then and with the possibility of a national title in grasp we all thought this would be the right thing to do.

Race day comes, mid forty's little wind no rain. Gun goes, relax relax relax. Patience. We get in-golfed by two hundred runners. it's an extremely aggressive battle to move up. Pushed my way through people making sure I loose no one on my team. We have a pack of five. 1200 meters in I get pushed hard from behind and fell. Quickly, I got up as things still seem very very crowded. Came through the first mile in 5:09. Slow, yes but patience. Mid 130's going through 2k. The pushing around every turn has seem to settle down, but not by much.

Focused on keeping everyone together, I find myself looking back every twenty seconds. Going through two miles I looked at the clock as it read 10:24 and as I made my last quick glance back to see what was left of the pack I took off. The next three miles all I could think about is how much my team needs me, the last three miles all I did was pass people. Went from being 130th place to finishing in 77th. I crossed the line in 25:33 making it a "Seasons" best by 18 seconds. My last three miles were 15:09 which is 5:03 pace, six seconds faster then what my first mile was.

What if? That's the question every runner asks themselves after they finish a race. What if I would've known the race would've been so fast? What if I went out in a 10 flat? How many more people could I of passed? What more could I of done?

I feel like in the situation I was in by two miles I did absolutely the best I could have done. I passed 53 people in the last 6k. Last year I would of been 20th place with the time I ran.

I know I'm better then 77th in the NAIA. I ran for my team, I ran as a pack, I didn't run for myself. Could I of been All-American? Top 40? Possibly, but I can't sit and dwell on this. All I can do is learn from this race, keep positive and move on.