"To give anything less than your best is to sacrifice the gift" --- Steve Prefontaine.
That quote has been plastered on sweatshirts, t-shirts, pretty much any running apparel that one could imagine. If you don't know who Pre is, open a new window in your internet browser and do a quick Google search, or rent the movie "Without Limits." Back on track (no pun intended), there are a variety of things that "the gift" could be. One would have to bring back Pre from the dead to get the exact definition, but for the rest of us mortals, we are left to ponder and speculate.
The first time I ever started Track was in fifth grade. Everyone knows those years when the 800m was the shortest "distance" race because they did not want to make kids run the mile. Ironically during my elementary years, I was focused on sprint type events. I competed in both the long jump and was part of the 4x1 relay. Guess back then I was fast. I did Track in seventh grade, but by that time I was more heavy set, meaning I was not fast enough to do any of the events I actually wanted to do. Therefore I was placed doing the 800m and 1600m. My pr's that year were 3:35 and 7:40. Those are extremely slow, and looking back, I feel pretty embarrassed that I ever ran that slow for those distances. I was always in next-to-last place. I was the kid that people cheered for at the end of a race because he was bringing up the rear. I was the kid who got lapped during the mile and I was the kid who would always sprint the last fifty meters, just make sure the guy behind me wouldn't pass me. After that year I decided that Track wasn't my thing. I was out of shape, fat, and frankly sucked. I stopped running and didn't start again till the summer before my sophomore year of high school.
Towards the end of my freshman year, I was noticebly leaner. I grew five inches and lost about twenty pounds. That year one of my friends, Aaron, ran cross-country at one of the high school's (eventually my rival high school). He told me that he loved it because of the high school team atmosphere. Plus he got to wear a high school sport's sweatshirt, which made him seem like a better athlete than everyone else. He would always tell me stories about his races and how it was racing against high school kids. I was interested his stories, but at the same time I didn't believe that I could do the same. At the time another one of my friends Carly, currently a senior in high school, had run cross-country at the junior high level for the past three year and told me how she loved to run (weird... who runs for fun?). Their stories, as well as their influences, convinced me to try-out for the high school cross country team. At the time I didn't know that their races were 3.1 miles long, if I had I probably wouldn't have joined the team. Maybe Aaron should have told me that little detail.
At the end of my senior year, with three years of high school track and cross-country under my belt, I thought that maybe I would try and compete at the collegiate level. I contacted the coach, talking about cross-country, and about a week later he had replied with an e-mail saying, in short, "Your too slow." I know I am no state qualifier or national champion, but I didn't even get a chance to prove myself. I took that as a chance to try improve my fitness and decided to work with the 400m runners, starting in october and ending in early february. Working with those guys made me realize that I was a distance runner. Whenever we did longer intervals (500m or greater), I recovered the quickest, yet when we did sprinting type repetitions (300m or less), I lacked the fast-twitch muscles to keep up with Scott or Kyle (two of our best 400m runners). From time to time, I would see the distance runners doing their typical base-building runs, easy, aerobic runs of five to seven miles. Later would I realize how important a solid base is when training with the mid-distance runners.
Often called the toughest runners in track and field, mid-distance runners are very similar to hybrid cars. They utilize different types of energy in order to produce a quality product. Mid-distance runners require a solid, aerobic base in combination with sprinting speed, which make become a deadly threat over a variety of distances, not just limiting to their standard 800m or 1500m distances. I started training with them from about mid February till mid April. Their aerobic base, which they probably started at the conclusion of their cross-country season, was demonstrated during the workouts that we would do. A typical tuesday workout would be (300-500-400-300) at 1500m pace, followed by 400m at 800m pace, then (4 x 200) at 800m pace. The 1500m set wasn't challenging, but when it came to the second half of the workout, any of the 800m paced intervals, that was where myself and the other mid-distance runners would separate. I would often be in the back of the pack, sometimes 5-10m behind the guys, who would be running in a tight group.
When meets would come around, coach had informed me that I would have to compete "Unattached" because all of the roster spots were already full. The benefits of competing on the team include: a free ride to the venue, free food, free food money, see the pattern here? When one competes unattached they have to provide their own transportation, their own food, they can't eat the "team's" food, etc. After two indoor meets of competing unattached, having to have my girlfriend drive me to Pullman, WA and Seattle, WA, I felt bad that I am not good enough to compete on the actual team. We'll see how the rest of the season goes, but at this moment, it's looking like my hybrid car is running out of gas.
