For as long as I can remember I have kept a journal/notebook.  It is stuffed with useless information, covered in numbers that I no doubt hoped would be my own splits, and contains thoughts that truthfully, if said out loud at the time, would probably have been laughed at.  My journal is messy and chaotic.  It is hilarious, and very often totally embarrassing, but one thing that is constant is that it is 100% real.

On the flight back from Houston, after qualifying for the Olympic Marathon team, I cracked the journal open in hopes of writing a recap of the race.  I stared at a blank page for some time and no words came to me. I thumbed through earlier writings and notes searching for inspiration, something to get the pen moving. I read through my fears about preparing to tackle track workouts at 5:30 pace, a pace that left me uncomfortable once I went beyond two miles.  I read through my anticipation of getting on the track for a 10k and hoping to qualify for my first USATF Outdoor Track Championships.  Scattered through the pages there is the detritus of a former self.  It is filled with the soft days before I got lean, the soft days before I got tough. As I continued to thumb through I recognized that I have never been very big on post-race reflecting, just about everything in this notebook is about looking forward.

While I was never able to put together a nice recap of my Trials race, I did find an old entry, one of the first, that has become especially relevant post-Olympic Trials.  Back in 2006, as a 16:17 5k runner, I wrote the entry below. It’s crazy to think that the prospect of an Olympic medal would even enter my mind, even crazier that this summer I’ll have the opportunity to make it a reality. Sure, it’s still a long shot, but maybe… just maybe….

Check it out -

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March 2006 *“You give me miles and miles of mountains and I’ll ask for the sea.”  **Rarely are we ever satisfied with our performances. Even after our best races we might be content for a moment, but it is in our nature to constantly over-analyze and re-evaluate, finding seconds on the course, flaws in our race plans, what ifs… should haves… and could haves.  Are we ever satisfied? There is a competitive mentality that keeps us coming back for more, day after day, race after race, and year after year…  so at the end of the day only a small select few might actually walk away content. If we will all eventually walk away disappointed, then what is the point? Why do we step out the door each day?  If only one person can be the best, are the rest of us essentially failing?  I certainly don’t have the answers, but today I’ll walk out the door with my Burns tied tight and hopes of setting the world on fire firmly engrained in my mind. Odds are I’ll never wear an Olympic medal around my neck, but maybe…just maybe, I will. With that in mind I’ll take off down the road and put in the days work.  If we don’t try we’ll never know. At least I can find out how good I can be.  I can have an answer at the end of the days, and have a hell of a good time with the process.

“To know that you do not know is best.
To not know of knowing is a disease.”
Tao Te Ching no.71

Recently my good friend Danielle made the horrible mistake of inviting me in to chat with  her Girls On The Run group, and I made the mistake of accepting. It’s just a bunch of children I thought. How difficult could it be? It was a rainy Thursday when I met up with her group of 8 or so girls after their indoor practice. They were winding down from the evening workout by jolting up on juice boxes and cookies, that I’m certain were made of pure sugar; in fact, it may have been globs of rock candy. Coach Savard introduced me to the group and gave them a little bit of my background information then she showed them a few newspaper and magazine clippings to trick them into believing I was legit. The small group of 8-10 year olds introduced themselves to me – name, grade, and favorite thing about running; a squirrelly group, but so far so good.

My brief visit mainly centered on a quick Q and A. Their sticky little hands went up one by one, and they asked their questions. They started out with some softballs like, “What do you like to eat?” “What do you do when you’re tired?” “How long have you been running?” Maybe they sensed me relaxing and knew they needed to step it up a notch, or maybe the sugar finally infiltrated their blood, either way the pace quickly changed. They began to bring on the serious questions and really grill me. “If you were to make the Olympic team what one word would you use to describe how you would feel?” “Are you flexible?” said one girl (as she proceeded to throw her leg behind her head). “What are you most grateful for in running?” Wow, these girls were good!

Just as we were wrapping up and I was starting to feel pretty good about our conversation, one especially evil little girl tried to stump me. “If you were running, and running, and just had to keep running …” I was certain she had nothing, and I smirked knowing I would survive the Q&A. “…and you just couldn’t stop, what three things would be most important to have!?” she finally hollered. It confirmed she was the spawn of Satan and I’d certainly be able to spot her mother in the hall with a pitchfork. The other girls laughed at the question, but in reality it was a BIG question. What are the three most important things you would need to focus on in your running if you could only pick three? I thought about it a bit and answered, “First I would need a bottomless beverage for hydration, second I would need a bottomless bowl of spaghetti for fuel, and of course the third thing would be a meatball! If you have spaghetti, you’ve got to have a meatball!” The meatball made her laugh and obviously saved me from being struck down by the young she-devil. I feared an answer as simple as “the ability to sleep and run” would not be nearly as impressive to the little monsters.

In all seriousness, my chat with the Girls on the Run group really got me thinking things over. Every now and then I get the opportunity to go to expos or speak at a group run and chat with people who have been running for years. These folks raise their sweet sanitized hands and ask the most sophisticated questions. When, how, and why should you train at altitude? How often do you have your iron tested? What compression gear is the best?

They are all great questions that, more often than not, I do not have the right answer to. In fact, no one does. They are complicated questions with complicated variables and complicated ‘answers’. The longer I’m in the sport, the more I find myself narrowing in on the tiny details, such as what splits to run, what % grade is the hill at mile 5, what is the best heel drop for me, and so on.

I’m always intrigued by the difference between how the beginners and the seasoned runners approach the sport. Personally, every time I approach a training segment I do my best to bring an empty cup or beginners mind to the start. An empty cup is recognizing I don’t have all the answers and leaves room for information to flow, fill, and not be wasted. There are certain fundamentals that I keep, but for the most part, at the start of a marathon training segment, I am a beginner. I’m currently a few weeks into my Olympic Trials Marathon training segment and I already find myself learning to hydrate, rest, eat, and stretch better than ever before, by simply recognizing that I didn’t start with the perfect way to do these things. It’s not always easy, I love to think that I know everything, but I find it an important process. Welcome to my blog, where I’ll keep you updated on the process of relearning how to be a marathoner again, and again, and again.