History Repeats Itself

I’m running again! I hit 20 miles last week. 20 miles is a long way from what I was doing in college, but it’s not a bad start.

An Affair Of The Heart

I’ve spent the better part of the last 4 years under a bar {not inside a bar}. A barbell to be exact. My relationship with the barbell is mostly one of love and adoration, but as it goes with all affairs of the heart, we have had our issues. My strength is by far the best it’s ever been, all due to the barbell. For conditioning work I pushed the sled or ran 1 minute sprints on the treadmill. So I had convinced myself that getting back into running would be super easy.

The Hill

2 miles from the house there is this beautiful trail where the view is quite spectacular: the ocean, snow capped mountains and the smell of eucalyptus trees…it doesn’t get any better than this. So off I went thinking, “Hey, I’m in great shape, this shouldn’t be a problem.” Um, yeah I was wrong. To say this trail got the best of me would be an understatement, it handed me my butt on a shiny platter. Specifically this one long, steep, dirt hill. I wanted to walk up it, but my stubbornness got the best of me, so I was reduced to a very slow plod… it was embarrassing.

If only the embarrassment had stopped there! But no, I still had 2 miles to get back to my truck. Most of it was descending, rolling hills. Fatigue had set in and thankfully gravity was on my side, or so I thought. In the last quarter mile there was a young couple walking up as I was letting physics help drag my 200 lb. frame down this hill. As I passed them and said hi I proceeded to trip on a tree root, fell and rolled twice before coming to a stop. The look on their faces was awesome, part shock and part wanting to laugh. They asked if I was okay…yup just a bruised ego. I was a hot mess covered in dirt from head to toe. Welcome back to running!

Lessons Learned

There were some important lessons and reminders that day. One, it was the first time I’ve run that hill in almost 4 years. I needed to lower my expectations of my running fitness level. Second, I reminded myself it’s always a process. One day builds on the next. And third, there was no way in hell this hill was going to get the best of me.

2 times a week since that first day the hill and I have a date. It has not been a pretty site: heavy heavy breathing, lungs on fire, and cottonmouth {which drives me crazy}. There has been marginal improvement in the last 3 weeks, I think it’s safe to say I’m no longer looking like a dumpster fire. My current status with this hill is pretty much hate. But I suspect it will fall in line like it did with the barbell, and I will mostly love it, save for a few issues.

Don't Give Up

Hills come into our lives in many forms. Whatever hill you face in life, please don’t get discouraged, it does get easier! And make sure you watch out for those tree roots, they get me every time.

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Image Credit: Erik Taylor

History

A couple of weeks ago I got to witness some true guts and determination when I was watching the Men’s and Women’s Olympic Marathon Trials in Los Angeles. My rooting interest was tied with the Popejoy family as we watched Mike Popejoy battle the competitors, the heat, and an insane amount of turns on the course.

I’ve been a close friend with Ken Popejoy, Mike’s dad, for over 20 years. Ken has been a coach, mentor, and a father figure to me. Our friendship runs deep; there may be 20 plus years difference in age, but you wouldn’t know it.

In the years we have been friends many events and memories have been created: there have been races, he became a judge, hall of fames, a wedding, my kids being born, his kids’ accomplishments, the passing of my sister, he and Nate {my college buddy} discovering Hermosa Beach. My all time favorite memory though was the Christmas of 2012 when I came in the house from work and he was sitting on the couch reading The Night Before Christmas to my girls. There’s a lot of history between us. So there was no way I was about to miss Mike’s debut in the Olympic Trials.

Race Day

The weather forecast leading into the race was not optimal, 82 and sunny. Mike’s training was solid except for one of his feet was giving him issues, that’s pretty good considering the amount of his weekly mileage.

Family Ties

Like any major event you prepare for, you do not get there alone. I got to see one of the driving forces behind Mike’s success: his family.

Mike’s 2 brothers and 2 sisters traveled from 4 different states to see the race. They came not out of obligation, but because they would not have it any other way. His family stood on Figueroa and cheered, yelled, and held up a sign that said, “Pope is Dope!” But the moment that got me was when Mike was in the last half mile of the race and Ken ran onto the course and yelled at the top of his lungs “Son, I’m so proud of you!”

This race for Mike went beyond the actual physical and mental components of competition and running a marathon. His parents, siblings, and extended family came to support him in his already brilliant running and academic career. It was about family and their love for Mike.

I’ve seen thousands of races, I’ve been a part of National Championship teams and I’ve had my own success as a runner. But that Saturday in early February will be one of the most memorable, exciting, and amazing days that I’ve been a part of. And not because I saw America’s elite marathon runners, but solely because I got to be part of a huge moment in the Popejoy’s lives. Ken, Kelly, Mike, Jon, Nick, and Katie thank you for letting me be a part of it. Congrats Popejoys!