I am a runner.

December 16, 2020

Often times when people ask me how long I've been running, my first thought is ‘for about 5 years or so.’ In truth, I've been a runner my whole life. My earliest love of running has to be growing up in Sedona, AZ. I discovered I could race around the yard so fast all the while yelling "faster than a speeding bullet!" (I don't think I'd even seen a Superman movie yet)! My Dad is a runner - although he can't run anymore. His Dad was a runner too. My Dad outright won races (short distances) running barefoot. Growing up, he told us stories about running. I’ve always looked up to him. When we moved to California, he'd race my brother and I on the beach for about 100 yards. He'd run backwards, and we'd try our hardest to beat him running regularly. I don't think I ever did beat him.

I ran in school, and was generally faster than the other students. In P.E., when a lot of the students walked the mile, I was racing for the number one spot. There were no medals, not really even a "good job,” just the P.E. coach yelling out your time as you finished "the mile." I couldn't take it easy. I was a runner. I had something to prove -- even if only to myself.

At some point I started competing against other schools, and then there was my first ever track meet. The Temecula Valley Friendship Games. My event was the mile, and for maybe the first time I was racing against other "runners." I went out HARD, shoulder to shoulder with the lead runner. I learned a valuable lesson that day when I ran out of gas. That infamous "bear on your back" feeling was quite new to me. I fell back to maybe last place, but stubbornly finished.

Did I like running back then? Or was I just good at it? Hard to say... my sport was soccer. Thinking back, I wasn't a good soccer player, but I could keep pace with the best of them - which made me a decent defender. I played soccer until I was a freshman in high school. That’s when it became political, and I barely got any time on the field come game day.

There I was in high school P.E. still racing to finish first every time we ran the mile, when my P.E. teacher pulled me aside one day. "What are you doing here?" She asked. "You should be running track & cross country."

My track & cross country career was short lived, but holds some great memories. I ran my first few practice runs on the road in worn soccer cleats. I'd never really run on the road before, so I didn't think it'd matter. I had a lot to learn. In track, the 800 and the mile relay were my main events, but I should have been running the mile. Fallbrook Union High School didn't have many runners on the team then, which meant my small freshman self was thrown onto the varsity team. I was running after, and being chased by these gigantic seniors. It was terrifying. My mile personal record (PR) was 4:26 as a Junior. My 5k was 16:02 (tied for first) at Mt. Sac Invitational. I could have, and should have won that race. I was just so happy to be keeping up with the fastest guy on our team, Will Nelson. Afterwards he admitted to me that he was scared of my finishing kick, and knew I'd pass him at the end. Major crying over spilt milk... Shin splints plagued me back then, and I ran and ran on them. My coaches taught me how to heel strike, and told me to avoid concrete. Well, they got part of it right... Unavoidably I ended my high school running career with a stress fracture in my right shin. I was done.

`Coming into the finish in high school cross country.`

Partying, girlfriends, being able to drive myself to Jack in the Box... I didn't really start running again until I'd met wife Rose, some 5 years after graduating high school. I'd somehow developed a pretty bad World of Warcraft addiction. (I know, it sound ridiculous). I have a very addictive personality - which is why running works so well for me. I was fat, I had borderline high cholesterol, and I didn't care. To give you an idea of my W.O.W. issues, Rose was thinking about breaking up, and going off the college on the east coast. I was excited, because if she left, it meant I could play Warcraft A LOT more often. (I know…) At some point, I hurt my shoulder/neck and couldn't play for about a week straight. It hurt too bad to sit at the computer. I detoxed, and quit cold turkey. That was one of the best things to ever happen to me.

Heart disease runs in my family and it was starting to worry me. I started eating healthier, and running. For the first time ever, running was hard. I couldn't even run the length of my apartment complex parking lot. I kept at it, but meanwhile decided I needed to find an exercise that didn't feel like exercise. I found fencing, and fell it love with it. I kept running, and eventually was up to 6 miles on average. I lost weight, felt better, and started entering fencing competitions. Rose got my attention again, and stuck around. We got married. Then, one day at a competition in Long Beach, life took a swing at me, and nailed me right in the knee. I heard a ‘pop-pop’ as I advanced into a flèche attack. My knee popped in and out of place, and it hurt like hell. Instead of dropping to the floor and calling it quits for the day, I foolishly tried to keep going. ‘Pop-pop’ again, and I was done. Luckily I had Rose with me that day, because I couldn’t drive myself home. My knee was the size of a bowling ball.

I unknowingly entered into a depression. I didn’t realize it until some years later, but it was the absence of running. I clearly remember believing that I’d never be able to run again. I eventually found another passion; brewing and drinking craft beer. Drinking loads of delicious beers (empty carbs and all) isn’t the best thing for your waistline, and I replaced running with it! Five years later, I was bigger than I ever had been. I was fat, again. I hated it, but I guess I looked that part of a brewer, right? (Or so I told myself). Rose tried to suggest other exercises to me, and I remember stubbornly telling her “No, all I like to do is Run and I can’t.”

One day my friend Paul (and co-worker at the time) told me he was quitting, and going join the sheriffs academy. He was going to need to be able run something like an 8:30 mile, and since I used to be a runner, he wanted to know if I could run with him to help him prepare. I was skeptical, but I told him I would try. I put on my knee brace, and we hit the trail together. It was painful, but manageable with the knee brace. I felt like I had been reunited with an old friend. Time went by, and Paul went off to the academy. I decided I needed a reason to keep going, and started looking for a local 5k to sign up for. I ran the Beer Fit 5k in San Diego - my first race in 17 years!

Around this time, I’d heard this really good brewery Mikkeller was opening a spot in San Diego. I wish my memory of how I learned of their running club was more clear, but I think I’d seen it on Facebook as something I might like. I did a search, and learned that San Diego would have a chapter and would have their first run in April of 2016. You even got a beer after your run! I was there. I showed up alone to Mikkeller Running Club San Diego’s first ever run. They even had their own running clothes. I still kick myself for not buying a large singlet, however at this time, I was still very much an XL. I made zero friends that day, but met the captains. Still, I knew I’d be back. I was running, again, but not very much, and not without my knee brace. At some point I decided I needed a bigger goal to keep me going, and I signed up for my first ever half marathon; Rock ’n’ Roll Las Vegas. This did the trick. Half marathons were costly! I had to get my monies worth - by training!

I was a little worried about running 13.1 miles with a knee brace, but figured I didn’t have any other options. One day, I went out for a training run, and forgot to put my knee brace on. I realized it very quickly, but decided not to go back to get it. I took it as a sign that maybe I didn’t need it anymore, and to this day I have only worn it once ever since! My knee took a little coercing into cooperating, but slowly I built up some strength. The half marathon came. I wrote my two high school coaches’ names on my legs in sharpie. They’d helped me so much more than I’d realized back then, and this was for them. Afterwards, walking around I saw these people with these ‘finisher’ jackets on. I felt left out, like I didn’t know I was supposed to get a jacket. Then I realized only the runners that finished the full marathon got a jacket. That’s all it took. Runners, am I right? I signed up for the Rock ’n’ Roll San Diego marathon the next day. I downloaded a training plan, and started pushing myself to new and exciting distances. Back in my high school running days, I had a dream of one day running a marathon. I don’t think I ever really believed I would actually run one. Rose was worried about the marathon. She didn’t hesitate to tell me that she was scared. You hear stories of how people die, etc. and she didn’t think people were meant to run that kind of distance. I didn’t listen. By now, I’m surrounding myself with all the running things. YouTube videos, books, magazines, and friends. One of the things that still makes me jealous is when you see a finisher of an endurance feat break down in tears. I’m not a crier, but I wanted - still want that feeling. When I crossed the finish line of my first marathon, Rose was there waiting for me. “Well, I didn’t cry. I guess I’m going have to run an ultramarathon!” I joked. “NO. You are NOT doing that.” She answered. I was only joking, but she was right. I wasn’t that crazy.

I’d obviously fallen back in love with running again, but it was by no means easy for me to get out of bed in the morning to go for a run. So most days, I didn’t. I had all sorts of justifications, and excuses. For example, I’d tell myself I’d run later that day, and that would turn in to three days later. September 3rd, 2017; It was a Sunday, and I was supposed to get up and run twenty miles with the Fallbrook Running group. I’d run a quick 5k with Mikkeller Running Club the day before, and 10 miles the day before that. This particular Sunday I was up to my typical excuses that morning. Only now, the addition of running groups & clubs brought me a new level of accountability. I felt guilty for flaking, so after sleeping in, I went to the local nature preserve and just ran a mile. It dawned on me while I was there, that I had just run 3 days in a row. ‘I wonder if I could run every day for a month?’ I thought. Challenge accepted. Besides, this is just the sort of thing I need to improve my willpower, and overpower my excuses. It wasn’t until 58 days in (after 30 days I decided to stop after two months) that on a running podcast, I learned that official run streaks are actually a thing. To count as one, you have to run at least one mile a day for a full year. New goal. A year later, I’d toe the line at my first 50k. (I’d become that crazy). Seven months after that, I’d finish my first 100 miler. (Rose is now desensitized to my running ambitions, and I still haven’t been brought to tears). It definitely hasn’t been easy. I’ve run through some crap. Injury, illness, you name it. Oh, and not too long ago, I got my dream job, (Although there’s no pay!) I’m now a captain of M.R.C! As I type this, I am at day 1,203. I won’t stop unless I’m physically unable to run. What started as a simple (purely selfish) practice in self discipline has become something so much bigger. The run streak has taught me so much about myself, but more surprising has been the inspiration I’ve unintentionally brought others. It’s been a humbling, and rewarding journey. Now more than ever, I look forward to my daily run. I AM A RUNNER.

My Dry January Experience