Where It All Began...

   So, there I was cooking along at over eight MPH, throat dry, thighs burning, my mind screaming at me to just stop the foolishness wondering why the hell I do this to myself! But wait let's go back to where it all started.

   I can still remember the look my gym teacher gave me at the high school track that day. I ran past him and he asked me what lap I was on. I croaked out that it was the third lap. He smiled, nodded and continued to mark split times down on his clipboard. 

   Most of my time as a youngster was spent overweight and very non-athletic. I'd tried soccer. But all the coach ever did was put me in as goalie. I was twice the width of the other kids on the team and there was no way in hell that I could summon the quickness or breath to score any goals. It was a win for both of us.

   When I started high school I decided to try out for the football team. I was a big boy and the coaches drooled at the thought of putting me on the front line. My dad got sick with cancer, I struggled with him fading from my life and I quit the team. I remember seeing one of the football coaches a week after I quit in passing on my way to class. I said hi. He pulled me aside and told me that the school doesn't like quitters, neither did he and told me to never talk to him again. After that I just convinced myself that sports weren't my thing. 

   As I covered before, a combination of my dad's death, depression and moving further away from a grandmother who showered me with love by feeding me ungodly amounts of German food changed who I was forever. My sophomore year of high school was a year of a lot of changes for me. I lost all my weight,  grew out my hair, wore black clothes, listened to heavy metal. I was discovering who I was as a person and battling the depression of losing my dad forever.

   That spring we did our annual mile run fitness test for gym class. The year before I almost fell over and died after the first quarter mile. But that following year I found myself cruising through those laps with ease. With all the weight gone running was way more fun! My gym teacher never said that he liked me out loud. Part of it was probably because of my anti-athletic look. But I always tried hard during class and gave everything my all. Through every quarter lap I could swear that he wore a look of admiration on his face as I passed.  

   That summer I started running for fun. Not very far. One to two miles a workout. I wasn't that fast. But I enjoyed being out there. Doing something that I thought I could never have done as I got older. In a way it helped with everything that was going on, gave me a sense of accomplishment and kept me out of trouble.  The running continued sporadically through crazy girlfriends and teenage youth. High school came and went.

   I started going to college and took some classes on fitness and health. The running picked up and I got better at it. Still wasn't fast but it it still made me feel amazing! I remember getting my first and only runner's high while running a four mile loop around school. Pity I never got to experience one again.  

   I graduated, began working various jobs here and there while working part-time towards a Bachelor's degree. By this time running was a staple in my weekly life as well as weight training. I now understood that keeping healthy was important. I was well aware that the better that I took care of myself the less of a chance I had of going down my dad's path to a death at a young age. I met the wonderful woman who later became my wife. We talked about our lives, our hopes, our dreams. One day I revealed to her that someday I'd really love to run an actual race. But, I just wasn't THAT kind of runner. One of the great things about her is that she looks at the world so matter of factly. She convinced me that I was THAT kind of runner. And that was it. I ran a race and then some. I became something I've always wanted to be deep down inside, an athlete.

   One thing that's really funny about all that running I did while growing up, I never ran on a track unless I had to do it for the annual fitness test. Sure, I had to run and qualify on a track to get my job with the sheriff's office. But track running just wasn't my thing. 

   So, here we are today. Today was the first scheduled speed workout for my marathon training program this year. Over the last 11 years I've done all of my speed work using a GPS based watch to mark the distance. It's worked well. But, after 11 years it's gotten old. I wanted to try something new. Some of the other runners that I know have been promoting the idea of doing speed work on a track. I figured why not?

   So this morning I drove to a local high school near my gym to give it a go. The weather was near perfect. 60ish degrees without a cloud in the sky. It was a bit too windy for my taste. But that would help cool me off during my recovery sections. 

   This high school's track was just plain amazing to look at! I know, I know. It's weird to like a place this much. But it looked brand spankin new, was well kept and very clean. It probably looked that good because the track had a four foot high locked fence encompassing it. But mere fences weren't going to stop me this morning. I easily hopped over, walked over to the starting line and found a spot on the grass filled center to put my stuff down. 

   It felt really weird to be standing again on a high school track. Not a soul was around except for a co-ed gym class of very uninterested looking teenagers being forced to play flag football on an adjacent field. I laughed out loud. I remember those days. I turned the GPS watch on, hit start and was off. 

   What proceeded for the next six miles was something like a dream. After an easy mile warm up the co-ed class faded away and I began the sprint intervals. 0.75 miles at speed pace with 0.25 mile recoveries. It was the first speed workout of the training season and I wasn't expecting to be able to do too much that was worthwhile. But, after the first interval I discovered that I was running almost one MPH faster than I typically did for these workout. Ah, mere fluke. It's just the Starbuck's coffee and nerves. Second interval, same thing. Ok? Apparently I had more in me today than I thought even though I was still really sore and tight from jumping back into cross-training this week. Third interval I started to tire and my speed wasn't quite as fast but still faster than normal. Fourth interval I thought to myself I'll just give it one more good lap and call it a day. But as I ran I speeded back up to where I was when I started. I knocked out another full interval, cooled down with another easy mile and crossed the finish line at 49:27. I was shocked. Typically these workouts are over 50 minutes long! Not bad at all for the first one of the season!

   I stretched, snapped some pics with the iphone and hopped back over the fence and walked back to my car. I sat there for a while watching another co-ed gym class struggle through another flag football game. A school janitor pulled up and asked me if he could help me with anything. I said no and said that I'd just got done using the track. He eyed me with suspicion. I contemplated showing him my sheriff's star to put him at ease. He just nodded and asked politely if I was leaving and I said, soon. He drove off. I sat there for a few more minutes basking in the sunshine, listening to the good music on the radio and finished my recovery drink. Yeah, it was weird to be running again on a track. But it brought back so many memories of a time long ago when I first discovered who I was, a runner. 

   As I drove away I saw the suspicious janitor again. I smiled and waved. He'll be seeing more of me I think this summer. I hope that school has an annual mile fitness test. Run for your lives my friends...