On Finaly Being Done

     Well, I didn't really write much of shit all through the entire cross-country season...not surprisingly! Seriously, all that running over hill and dale combined with the early "beat the heat" mornings (there's no way to actually beat it though...it just means waking up earlier to slowly dehydrate oneself over a easy run or long tempo) I simply found myself drained of all motivation. Well, not ALL motivation...I was motivated to have a good go at cross country for the first time in my life and manage to stay within our traveling squad.
     I would say that I had marginal success in the first one of those, but regrettably only fully achieved the second due to us not being as incredibly deep of a squad as we were last year. Never being of not as a harrier (I still maintain that one can't find a person whose lifetime 8k best was 24:49 at the end of last fall but came out of the spring with 5k and 10k bests better than mine!), I am surprised I manged to run reasonably swiftly--for me--over the course of the season and improved from a dismal 33rd at ACC to a (moderately decent) 13th.
      And I suppose I should be happy with that...right? But I'm not even close. In fact, to be honest, I'm quite pissed off at the whole situation. Coming into the season I was having quite strong workouts and numbers--especially considering that I played it safe and didn't try to crush the summer. However, by the time Pre-Nat's rolled around I found myself running on the flattest of tires for legs. Though I managed to realize my issue lied in forcing myself to over-reach in the work department whilst simultaneously neglecting the recovery, I never felt like I was really back to 'normal' after that point. But really, that's my fault and I knew all along that if I pushed to far I'd likely never get things back--my body just doesn't work like that; I can't recover as well as others and if that limit is pushed too much.....  

     After Pre-Nat's coach and I looked over my training and realized I hadn't had a week more than 1/2 a mile under 80 since we reported back on August 19th--considering that I averaged approx. 72 mpw last spring, that's a pretty solid jump for me! After cutting back into the 70-75 range until conference I was feeling better and managed to get my shit together for that meet--which was great, but also devestating as it kills to feel like you're getting back to where you should be racing whilst at the same time have your team lose a title you'd really wanted to retain (but that's also partially us as we did make the decision to really crust the work leading up to that...so possibly the extra 4 points to win? We'll never know.

     Besides that, the season was a bust, really. I found myself struggling hard on the hilly Regional course and, once again, feeling flat from the word 'go,' but manged to suck it up and not get beat by EVERY Kenyan in the meet. Nationals was looking up, though, as I finally started to feel my legs get back under me in the 9 days between the two championships. As excited as I was going into the meet I really wanted to take Ol' Frank Shorter's advice and go out hard then hold on and discover my manhood--but elected to play it safe in order to give us as a team the best shot possible at repeating some semblance of "The Miracle in Terre Haute." Ironically, however, the decision to take the safer route, something I dragged Kuba into as well, would lead to a bigger wrench in the works than I could imagine! Kuba, A.J. (Braman's Golden Child--BGC, for short), got out through the first kilo in 2:49-2:50 in about 150th place then went through a mile at 4:39/40 in 140-150th. This is where Kuba and I had decided we needed to 'wake up' and start getting guys before the race, so we started trying to move. But it was hard! We'd figured that by merely being mentally active in trying to pass people that it would happen--but it wasn't that easy. By the time we'd gotten to the 5k mat we were with a couple of Portland guys in around 120th and still moving. However, coming down the hill I felt my right side start to get tight as I was beginning to wheeze a bit. CRAP! I hadn't had a cramp issue since fucking high school! I knew if I needed to relax or the breathing would get harder and that, in turn, would make the cramp really come on and I'd be all sorts of fucked. This worked, though I had to slow, until between 7.5k and 8.5k when it all fell apart. Coming up through the middle on that stretch things just cinched up and it became an issue just to keep forward progress--but I was still the 5th man and needed to make sure that we at least got a score--even if it was my sorry ass keeping the FSU tradition of some guy having a miserable race and dragging his ass in DFL...Christ! Though it sucked and I was doing about 6min pace at a point I managed to "only" lose about 50 more places (testament to my will power or how bad the guys behind me were hurting? Don't know). I finished 202. Wow.

     I was so disappointed I didn't even want to see the rest of the guys after the race, much less coach. Braman's done a LOT for me in my time here and I think it hurts me more to let him down that it does to simply have a bad race. Thankfully, though I know I'd ruined his and the team's chance at a top 10 by going out so far back, coach wasn't in a fit nor ready to kick me off the travel squad nor force me to forgo a break as some sort of ill-guided punishment. In fact, the wily old bastard greeted me with a stern look--and a JOKE! "Well...we know ONE thing at least! I'm a better cross guy than you...MY worst day here? 201. Yours? 202 HAHA!" Then, of course, being reminded of the fact that "see, if you'd listened and got out in 50th-80th you wouldn't have to PASS, just maintain with a bunch of guys dieing around you and THEN if you died you'd have died to 120-150th instead of over 200!" Genius. Not everyone can make a living passing on cross country courses--sometimes it's better to just have to stay put.

     Well, either way, it's all over now. It didn't go the way I, nor the rest of the men's team wanted, but it happened. To be honest, this season actually shows a huge impovement in us as a team and really points to exactly where we are as a squad these days as compared to when I first came here. If we got 12th any other year before this, we'd be pretty damn happy--but after last fall's experience, and then seeing exactly how good we all could be in the spring we not only wanted more--but expected it and accepted excellence as a norm. I, and we, made some mistakes in getting overzealous at points--but learning has occurred and we'll be better athletes for it. We're ready to get geared up for track now and we've all still got Ciaran's last year in mind. If his chipmunk-cheeked, ugly ass can do it, why can't anyone?


Oh, and Erika and I are still dating. Shes great. She bakes stuff and makes me Halloween baskets and buys me Keurigs. Did I mention She's great?