What a Year! Part Two

As I continue to count down my five favorite running memories of 2012, I first want to thank all of my friends and family who read this rant of a runner and I appreciate your kind words you have shared with me over the past couple of years. Running is such a core part of my personality and life and like all good things that God gives you, you just want to share it with others. So without further adieu, on to number three and two. Number 3: Alberto! Eugene is always an awesome experience every time I travel north to the land of Bowerman, Pre, and Nike. Growing up in the 80's one of my running heroes was and is, Alberto Salazar. The man ran with guts, grit and fire. I have never witnessed a runner so lost in the pursuit of victory that all pain, discomfort, and obstacles just melt away under each stride. His famous duel in the sun with Dick Beardsley, the epic battle with Henry Rono in the rain, and his unexpected victory at Comrades are the stuff of legends. The man, simply put, is a running god. But, in order to understand the significance of memory number 3, we must first travel back in time to June 1990. My coach, Danny Aldridge, was a former teammate of Alberto's on the famed Nike Athletics West track club and had managed to not only get himself in the prestigious Prefontaine Classic Track Meet, but also a young, blue-eyed, red-headed gangly kid, falling in love with the sport. Me. To make a long story short, it was a 10,000 meter track race set up for Alberto to make another comeback attempt, I got dead last, lapped twice, all the while enjoying every step of the way as the crowd clapped and cheered, the rain fell softly and crossing the line with a 2 second pr. However, one does not meet their hero everyday, so after the race, I walked up to Alberto and asked for his autograph in my meet program. Here is where it gets cool; Alberto looks up at me and asks, "Why do you want my autograph? You were in the race too!" Holy crap! Alberto just validated me as a runner. I was never the same runner from that moment on. Fast forward to June 2012. I am out running on Pre's trail at the Olympic Trials with my assistant coach Lino, when I notice a figure striding along towards us. With his familiar pigeon toed, slightly hunched over form, Alberto ran by. Thumping Lino in the chest, exclaiming, "Do you know who that was?!" I took two or three more strides, stopped, thought for a moment, turned in my tracks and chased down Alberto. Upon catching him and assuring him I was not some deranged character let loose from the nuthouse, I told him about our encounter in 1990 and then I did what I have been wanting to do for the last 22 years, I got to thank my hero for his kind words. We chatted for a few minutes, shook hands, and as we continued on with our runs, he left me with this, "You never know what affect your kind words to a stranger might have on them." Alberto, your kind words did more than just inspire me to work hard to become the best runner I could be when I was young, but you continue to inspire me, to be the best runner, coach, and person that I can be as the slowing process kicks in the old legs. Thank You Alberto! Number 2: Hayward Magic. I have had the privilege of racing several times on the most magical track in America, Hayward Field. There is something mystical and inspirational about stepping on the track in Eugene. It is as if the ghosts of all the distance legends of the past rise from their sleepy graves and stride along beside you. You are surrounded by history, the creaking of the East Grandstand, the fans who understand the nuances of sport, and a sense that anything is possible. That is why when I read about an all comers track meet during the break in action at the Olympic Trials, I knew I had to bring my racing gear. Since my heart attack, I have been focusing on a new set of personal records that I call post heart attack pr's, aka phaprs! Since I have ran a pr every time I have raced at Hayward Field, including my 2 second pr in the race with Alberto and a 5000 meter NCAA DII qualifier in 1992, I knew that it would not be a successful trip if I did not get a pr in my race. It has been several years, nearly 20, since I had last raced a mile and now seemed like the best time to race one, especially since I was guaranteed a phapr. But, there is magic in the air in Eugene and my feet came alive as I stepped out onto that track, transporting back in time, well, at least in my mind, and the balding, greying, slowing old man was replaced by a bright eyed, jubilant kid striding up and down the backstretch getting ready to take on the world. The brilliant flashes of bright colored spikes, racing flats and singlets zipped by on each stride out. My heart thumped with excitement, butterflies danced in the pit of my gut, and a fire was rising from deep within...I didn't just want a phapr, I wanted a master's pr! Of course I did not want to put a damper on anyone's Olympic Trials experience by having to administer CPR to me from pushing too hard by disobeying my Cardiologist, so I carefully plotted my lap splits and when the gun went off, I went to work. For four illustrious laps, I circled Hayward Field, calmly hitting my planned splits. Meticulously I sliced through the dying stragglers before me and with one last solid push, I managed to run negative splits resulting in a seven-second masters pr in the mile! The magic of Hayward Field hung heavy around me as I melted from the past into the present and realized what I have known since the first time I stepped on a track my freshman year in high school; man, I love this sport! Until the revealing of my favorite running memory of 2012, stay healthy and keep running...oh, if you get a chance to meet and talk to your running hero, make sure to tell them thank you for their inspiration!