Sometimes, You Have to Return to Your Old Ways

Cross country 2013 started off great.

After a miserable end to my 2013 track campaign, I wanted nothing more than to rest up and begin preparations for the upcoming XC season. I strung together a nice summer, running higher mileage than I ever have during the summer months, and entered the season feeling fit and ready to roll.

We started, as always, with our team camp. That week, and the following two, ended up becoming my three highest mileage weeks in my many years of running (112, 94, 110). I had hoped to continue with that trend for another two weeks (leading up to the Notre Dame Invitational), but the tail-end of that last 110 week, and the beginning of what I hoped would be my fourth, I began to feel run down. After about five consecutive bad days, I was forced to resort to taking a large rest week. I ended up running a grand total of 42 miles and ending my week with two off days. Needless to say, as with every competitive athlete, when forced to take time off when you shouldn't be needing it is hard to handle. My temper flared, my confidence disappeared, and I began to even question my involvement with the sport. Then, as if reborn, my first run back was effortless. And my second was the same. But my confidence was still lacking, so I needed to take some more drastic measures.

Two falls ago, I was toeing the line at Cross Country Nationals. I got there from a combination of hard work, dedication, and a little bit of (controlled) cockiness. As I sat in despair, I thought long and hard about what had been missing in my running over the course of the past few months. Then it hit me: I no longer carried with me the same swagger that had once fed me the confidence to push myself and excel in my running. I began to make a mental list of all the things I had once done to boost my confidence, and put that swagger in my step, and realized how many I had, for some reason or another, stopped doing all together. I decided, then and there, that in order for me to reach my goals, I needed to return to my old ways. I had changed in the past year or so, and although most of the changes were for the better, some had brought on a negative effect on my performances as a collegiate athlete. So, I am on the mission to return to those ways. Though they may seem ridiculous, they worked before, and there is no reason to believe that they won't work again. I'm still the same Chris you've always known, but don't be surprised if I carry myself a bit differently nowadays, a bit, as you could say, more cocky.

I Don't Know What Path I Am On

I thought I was out of the darkness. I felt as though my passion and fire for running had been reignited to its fullest potential once more. Then, this past week happened, and I found out I might have been wrong. I feel tired, worn out, beat up. Perhaps it is just the weight of all the other problems in my life bearing down on me, maybe I just cannot handle it all right now, but running was supposed to be my escape, my way out of it all for a little bit each day. Now, it is just another thing to add to the pile, another burden to bear, and it might be the straw that breaks the camels back. Every time I turn a new corner, something else goes wrong, something sends me back down that hard path I thought I finally got off of. Car breaks down, run out of money, Achilles starts acting up again. It is never ending. When one thing gets conquered, another immediately takes its place. I cannot handle it all right now, and I now have to deal with the growing fear of another poor season. I know I cannot run well when my life is too overbearing, and that is what I am currently facing. I do not know what to do, I need to figure something out quickly...

A New Beginning

Winter was rough.

Spring was worse.

The 2-week break was desperately needed.

Now it is summer (well, not quite yet, but that's not the point). The time to start again has come and gone, and start again is what I have done. For almost 6 full months, I lost myself. I lost who I was, the fire inside me. I was a lost runner.

But now I am finding myself again. The body has been refreshed, the mind uncluttered. Step by step, mile by mile, I am finding myself again. I am learning. It's a slow journey, but it needs to be slow or I will lose myself again. The fire is burning again, but slowly. Rush it and it will be extinguished again. Be patient and it will engulf me completely once again. And I am ready to burn.

A few weeks ago, I was broken, lost, and not a runner. Today, I am a runner again.

A lost runner...

For almost 6 full years now, running has consumed my life. It has served as my motivator is succeed in school, as the arena in which all my dreams existed, and, really, the only reason I believed I was put on Earth for. No matter what happened in my life, running was there as a distraction, an escape, and a means to excel in my life. I would be lying if I said it had always been am easy road to travel, for as every runner knows, the road is full of speed bumps and potholes. I've felt the highest highs and the lowest lows. However, no matter what running put me through, I always had a desire to stay with it, and always found a way to get back at it.

I've also always had a different way of motivating myself than most other athletes. We all get to hear speeches and lectures about how as long as we go out and try our hardest, then we can be happy. Many runners go to practice and races, give 100%, and no matter the outcome, they are happy because they tried their best and bettered themselves in some way. That has never been how I motivate myself. Countless times, I have finished a race with a big PR, and left completely unsatisfied, and often, disappointed. My motivation comes from chasing huge dreams, setting high goals, and not letting myself quit until I reach them. I have never wanted to simply end my running career better than I started it, I have always wanted to end reach the highest of achievements possible in running. The pursuit of those goals is what has always driven me, to push myself harder and harder after each time I fall short of that "greatness" I envision for myself, regardless of if I PR in an attempt or not. I know I am not the most talented runner to participate in this sport, not by a long shot, but I have always believed that there is greatness in me, and that I can one day unleash it. I've never been afraid to race anyone, because of that belief in myself I have. Hell, I led (along with one of my teammates) Diego Estrada in a 3k at our Conference Championships when I was seeded near the back of the pack. I honestly believe, with every fiber of my being, that I can one day compete with guys like him, and even better, I just have to unlock that potential hidden deep inside me.

But that isn't the point of this post. The point is, right now, I am in the worst running funk of my life. I have hit many funks in my running career, but I have never lost the desire to pull myself out of it and get back on track. This time, however, I have no desire to even try to get back into it. There has always been a flame of passion and drive burning fiercely in me that pulls me back to the runs, the workouts, and the races, but this time, it is dwindling, barely holding on, close to being extinguished. I know it isn't completely gone yet, because I still have those same dreams and goals sitting in the back of my mind, that I can close my eyes and get lost in as I lay down at night, but they're getting harder and harder to get to, and harder and harder to believe. Today, I find myself questioning whether or not I want to, or even CAN, keep on with this. If this had happened last year at this time, it would have been easier to manage, since I still had my redshirt for outdoor, but I no longer have that. I have to compete this spring or burn the season. The dwindling flame isn't low enough to allow myself to burn the season, but believe me, the idea is bouncing around my head at all hours of the day. I'm supposed to race in 2 days, but I don't know if I can find the will to finish, let alone get myself to the starting line. And then there is next fall, the year our men's team is supposed to BE something, I couldn't let my teammates down, seeing as how I am a key piece in our goals for next year (not trying to sound cocky, it is just that I am technically the top returner from last fall). If the flame stays dull, or even burns out, I let my teammates down, I let my coach down, and I become a waste of a runner, a waste of scholarship money, and, to myself, a waste of a person. Every run hurts, no matter how easy I take it. I cannot push myself to run fast, no matter how hard I fight, I finished every interval incredibly off pace.

Where do I go from here? How do I push on? Or, do I even try to push on? Should I let the flame burn out, throw in the towel? Do I attempt to force the flame to grow again, even if I don't have any fuel to feed it with? I am trapped, confused, out of my element. I am a lost runner.

Where's the next Pre??

I'm going to be blunt, and quite possibly offensive. I'm going to be provocative and straight forward. Heed this warning now, so I may begin... Track and field is a dying sport in America. And if not quite yet dying, it is very, VERY ill. Face it, nobody cares about us track athletes, or professional marathoners. ESPN doesn't give a rat's ASS about us. Listen into conversations around college campuses, restaurants, bars: the only athletes mentioned are the big money, mainstream, Lebron James' of the world. When was the last time you heard someone, in all seriousness, debate whether Bernard Lagat or Galen Rupp is the best American distance runner currently? Unless you have recently sat in the locker room of a high school or college cross country team, the chances are you haven't. Track and field, in America, is dying.

We had our prime. In the 1950s, Wes Santee captivated America in his attempt to become the world's first ever sub-4 minute miler. Bannister beat him to it though. In the 1960s, Jim Ryun's incredible accomplishments at the mile once again brought the spotlight back to the track. Then, Steve Prefontaine made the ENTIRE country care about the sport of running and, specifically, races longer than the mile. Then what happened? He died. He disappeared forever. No more records. No more winning streaks. No more gold medal attempts. America stopped caring. People switched from the track to the gridiron. From those beautiful, polyurethane ovals to the hardwood. America stopped caring about track and field.

What happened? Did our runners get worse? No. In fact, they got better. MUCH better. Pre ran 13:21 for the American Record. Currently, the American Record is 12:53. Twenty-eight seconds better than Pre ever ran. We are better, we are faster than ever, and we have more guys running fast times than ever before. So how did we die as a sport? It's simple: we have no more Pre.

I'm not necessarily saying that if he was still alive, people would still care. In fact, people would probably care less if he had lived, if he had won gold in Montreal. What I mean is, there is no one in American distance running who EMBODIES what Pre did. No one races and trains with the same attitude and determination and if they do, they sure as hell don't show it to the rest of the world. Sure, there are some guys out there with Pre-like qualities, and I will talk about them, but they all fall short. So, without further ado, let's take a look.

Nick Symmonds: He is an obvious candidate, and for many reasons. Symmonds is incredibly charismatic. He knows how to work the media, what to say, and how to make people listen. His entire ploy last summer of bidding advertising space on his own body was genius and he brought the media to our feet, for a short period. Sadly, once the Olympics passed, so did the attention. Symmonds is also a lady's man. Girls love him. Guys want to be him. He's is one attractive guy, let's face it. If I looked like him, I would have girls at my apartment constantly. I mean, he went on a date with Paris Hilton for Godsake. He's got the charm. And he's fast. 5th fastest 800m runner ever. Currently the best American, although Duane Solomon is making his go at that title. AND he finished in the same place as Pre did in the Olympics, one spot out of a medal. But Symmonds is not Pre. He doesn't captivate the media day in and day out. He doesn't promise victories and records. He doesn't run from the front of the pack. And he's not as rugged as Pre. Nick Symmonds is a pretty boy (no offense though, I'm pretty metro myself). So Symmonds falls short. Who is next?

Anthony Famiglietti: You guess it (okay, maybe not), Fam is next. When it comes to training, everything Fam is screams Pre. Fam is all about pushing yourself beyond the limits, punishing the body, taking control of a race from the gun, the purity of racing. That's all Pre. If you could compare their racing styles, you might think they were separated at birth. To put it simply, they both might be clinically insane. And Fam is fast. Really fast. And has an incredible range. However, Fam is far from being Pre. Fam is not charismatic. He isn't a glamour boy. Girls don't melt at the sound of his name. And he is very much out of the limelight. The media, honestly, doesn't give a shit about him. Sure, LetsRun and Flotrack do, but in all honestly, the masses don't give a shit about this media outlets. Although they both have very hard to pronounce (and spell) last names, and cool, 3-letter versions of it, Fam is not Pre

Galen Rupp: You cannot talk about American distance running and NOT mention Rupp. This man is on fire and tearing up tracks left and right. He is the real deal. The creme dela creme. Nobody can compete with him, not even a lot of the East Africans. No American-born runner can, that's for sure. Who challenges him today? Mo, Lagat, and ya... Both are African-born, so my point is proven. This kid can run. He has the times. Hell, he could put Pre to shame on the track. But God Almighty is he the most awkward runner to talk to. This kid is weird. He is NOT charismatic in any way. And, sorry Rupp, but he isn't a looker either. Where Pre failed on the track, Rupp succeeds. Where Pre succeeded in personality, charisma, and charm, Rupp falls horribly short. And Rupp is the FARTHEST thing from blue collar. What Rupp (or Salazar, to be honest) wants, Nike gives them. No matter how fast Rupp runs, or how many medals he wins, he will never be Pre.

So where does that leave us? Hopeless. Leaderless. Defeated. We need a Pre. We need someone who embodies what he did. And we need it bad. Will he ever return though? No one can say for certain. But if he doesn't, track my die, once and for all. Pre, please return to us, your spirit in the body of another. We need you, now, more than ever. Who will step up? Who can run what Rupp has, train like Fam, and carry himself like Symmonds? That or science needs to hurry up and invent something so we can morph those three together. Ya, that just might work...

Seattle 2024?!?!

Before I begin with what this post is really about, I just want to say that after watching Lagat run an 8:09 2-mile at Millrose, I considered burning my running shoes because that is just unreal (but really, major props to that guy. 38 and STILL setting American Records...). Okay, now on with this blog...

Today, news dropped that the USOC sent out letters to various mayors of cities capable of hosting an Olympics and Seattle (the city I live 40 miles south of) was one of those receiving a letter! Now, this does not mean we will attempt a bid and certainly does not mean we will win if we even attempt it, but a guy can dream. The bigger issue raised by this news (for myself at least) is my goals, which naturally include Olympic aspirations (considering I have a huge ego [which I believe is essential to a distance runners success], my non-Olympic caliber times thus far have not diluted those dreams). Lets be honest here for a second: I am not an Olympic-level athlete (yet) and the odds are truly and incredibly against me for ever making an Olympic team. The Rio 2016 logo hangs on the wall of my apartment, but really, my main goal for that year is just to make the Trials (again, not even close [yet]). 2024 is over 11 years away, but a lot can happen in 11 years. Hopefully I'll have a family and a career by then and who knows what 2016 and 2020 will bring (2020 is the more realistic goal year to make the team). Most likely, I will be running marathons by 2024, but again, in 11 years, who knows what will happen. I haven't planned that far ahead. Hell, I haven't even really planned out tomorrow.... But this potential 2024 bid for Seattle is different. As stated above, I was raised 40 miles south of Seattle (in good ol' Puyallup!) and it is probably my favorite city on this planet. IF they made a bid and IF (on the off chance) they won that bid, I would have the chance to not only represent my country, but my HOME STATE and REGION in front of a home crowd! Honestly, I would train until I dropped dead to make those games and then force myself to come back to life just to compete until I drop dead in them. Seattle has MULTIPLE marathon courses to offer, all of which have pros and cons. It would be an incredible opportunity.

Pretty much, it'd be sweet if Seattle got to host the Games and even sweeter if I was able to compete in them (regardless, you best believe I WILL be attending them). So ya, that's all. This wasn't too important of a post. Just a, ya know, blurb.

What is the point?

Typically, the day following a race is a day full of evaluation and realigning of training with goals. Considering I competed yesterday in the 3k at the University of Washington's Husky Classic, I am going through the previously stated process myself. Only, I am not evaluating whether or not I am on pace with my training. I find myself questioning my very existence. I ask myself, "is it even worth it anymore?"

I am reminded of an interview with the University of Arizona's Lawi Lalang from the fall of 2011. Lalang, if you are unaware, won NCAA's that fall and ran a sub-23 minute 8k earlier that year (a VERY incredible feat). In this interview, he was asked how many miles he ran and his response: about 50 a week. 50 miles a week for one of the best runners to ever compete in the NCAA. Why I am reminded of this interview? Last fall I peaked at 90 miles a week, yet could only muster a 24:45 over the same distance (8k) that Lalang ran his sub-23. In terms of typical, normal time we go by on a day-to-day basis, 2 minutes is a very short period of time. However, in the running world, losing by 2 minutes in any race is practically an eon. Despite the fact I almost doubled his mileage, I cross the finish line so far behind him, that he most likely wouldn't even care to wait to watch me cross. So then, I ask, what is the point?

What is the point of me getting up every day, putting in two runs, 90+ miles a week, pushing through the pain of workouts if all I accomplish is the ability to run a time that nobody would be impressed at (save a handful of hobby joggers who know nothing of competitive running)? Why am I doing this? No, do not expect me to have some deep and inspirational conclusion about how I have a deep passion and love for the sport. Yes, I love running, but I am not in this just to get an endorphin rush. Deep down inside, I want to blaze. I want to run fast and beat the best this world has to offer me in the way of competition.

I don't know where I stand right now. I know it is only indoors and I have yet to even run one single interval workout, but how do these guys run fast both indoor and outdoor successfully? Why can't I? Why am I not capable of this, even though I work (I like to think) just as hard as they do? I'm not sure...