Chapter 1

The Warm Up

My father was a decorated runner in his time. As a sophomore in high school he was already setting course records and winning varsity chamiponships in Cross Country and Track. Growing up in San Jose, California in the 1960’s and 70’s and one of eleven children, sports was a way of keeping his siblings and himself out of trouble. Til this day my dad says he wishes he tried harder, because to him, he never felt challenged. Coming from someone who ran a mile in 4:20 and 5k in the 14 minute range, that’s hard to compete with, and I’m his own son!

So I guess you can say running was in my blood, no matter how hard I tried to run away from it. Pun intended. I remember going to my grandmas house and seeing all the trophies, plaques and medals my dad had won over the years. Boxes full of medals that couldn’t fit on the shelves that probably was one medal away from collapsing. He would tell me how he would tell the T-shirt booth to save him a shirt in his size because he knew he was going to win that day.

Although my father was a talented runner, he never pushed me to the sport. In hind-sight I wish he had. As I went through my rebellious teen years, my attempt to tryout for football, even trying out for the sprints; he never pushed me to do anything I didn’t want to do.

Spring my junior year of high school, a good friend of mine, Juan, was pushing me to join the schools track team. After countless efforts of trying yo convince me, I caved and told him I’d attend one practice. The coach put Juan and myself on the track and told us to race one full lap around the track. Now, I have always been quite competitive when it came to anything sports related, especially running, I mean, it was in my blood for goodness sake! So I took up the challenge. We were no more than 100 meters into the race when I gassed out and couldn’t keep up with Juan as he strode to the finish line with a great big smile on his face. Me, gasping for air with my hands on my knees, the coach came up to me jokingly saying, “You’re going to have to train a lot if you ever want to beat him (Juan).” Right then and there I was hooked, without even knowing it. I wanted to be faster and I wanted to beat Juan.

So Junior year I joined our schools track team as a sprinter in the 100m, 200m, 400m and 4 x 400m team. Let me say what you’re probably already thinking. “But wait, I thought you were a distance runner!?” Yes, that is true, but back then I was naive…and quite slow. Turns out, sprinting was not in the cards for me, I was just too big and too slow to ever compete with the rest. (This is something that comes up again later in my running career.) So the same friend who convinced me to join track in the first okay, Juan, told me that I should run Cross Country in the Fall to get in better shape once Track cam around. I decided to tale him up on the offer and join Cross Country so I could finally beat him in the 400m the next year. Little did I know, running Cross Country was about to change my whole life.

In the Fall, I joined the Cross Country team and had a rude awaking when I discovered that I would have to run more than 400 meters…a little more than 12 times the amount actually! Going from doing 100m repeats to 3-5 mile runs and repetitions of 800m or more was something I definitely did not expect. If I’m honest, I walked a lot, I cut runs short often and I more time than not ran too fast and burned out on my runs and workouts. Once I got settled and figured out how to run the distances, I started enjoying it. The racing though was another story, 5k races on dirt, grass, hills and gravel was a completely different world from the world of track I knew.

Long story short, I ended up becoming our #2 guy. I was liked! I had lost some weight, I had gotten more fit and was ready for track so I could redeem myself in the sprints. But my coaches had other plans for me. I remember having a pre-season meeting with my coaches and they had asked me what my goals for the season were, to which I said “I want to run the 200m and 400m.” Very bluntly the said “Nope, you’re running the 800m, 1 mile and 2 mile for us.” I was shocked and confused. “No, I’m a sprinter though.” Again, very direct, my coach said “mmm…no you’re not, you’re a distance guy now.” I mean, how could I argue that. If my coach wanted me to run distance then I guess I’m running distance.

So I ran. And I did pretty good too. I remember going into our first league race and I was set to run the 1600m. I remember setting a goal for myself. I said I’d be happy if I can run in the 5:20’s. I had no idea what a fast time was and I though 5:20 sounded like a good time to run for the first time. When the gun went off, all I knew was sprinting, so I took off as fast as I could and paid the price for it later. Never in my life had I felt so much pain in my arms and legs before. Cross Country was a slowly creeping pain, where as track was more of a sudden influx of lactic acid that causes your whole body to want to shut down. But I finished the race, not sure at how I did. When I saw my time I was surprised; 5:04. I thought to myself “Oh my god, maybe I am pretty decent at this distance stuff. What if I can run a mile in the 4 minutes!” And so the grind was on. At my best I would run 2:09 in 800m, 4:46 in 1600m and 10:31 in 3200m.

I would have said I had a successful first year of distance running. Now during my whole high school tenure, I had no real ambitions to attend college. It wasn’t until I was approached by who would be my future college coach at my High School League Championships where I would be asked to join a Junior College Cross Country and Track team. I was surprised. I mean, sure I ran decent times for a first timer, but there were kids way faster than me. But nonetheless, I accepted and I would start my journey as a Modesto Junior College Pirate! Life would never be the same after that.

Read Chapter 2 “Today Was Our Easy Day”