Monday, September 2, 2013

September

I've been listless and unfocused lately.  I've been thinking too much about getting lost.

Then September rolls in on a faint, cooling, crisp air and I am flooded with a million memories of blood, sweat, tears, ragged breath, rocks, trees, golf courses, icy hot, cramps, spaghetti dinners, and triumph and heartache with the closest of friends.  And it's almost too much to take.

I watched the Wyoming cross country team run by from my office window last week.  Young, fit, and fast looking.  I found myself stabbed by a pang of jealousy.  "You lucky bastards," I thought.  I remember that feeling.  Knowing that you are young and fit, that your summer training went well, and that you are back and ready to run faster than you ever have before.  I have a sense of longing for that feeling.  It is one that I will never feel again.

However, this air, this goddamn crisp fall air, so unique to Wyoming, is tugging at my mind, my heart, and my legs.  "Get outside..." it says.

I do not have to be young.  It does not have to be fast.  It can simply just be something.  Something I absolutely need to do.  

I was once a runner.  But, the truth is, I still am and I always will be.


2003 Wyoming Men's Cross Country team.  Albuquerque, NM.  L to R: Jeremy Thompson, Kyle Cheesbrough, Brian Knight, Jason Delaney, me, Brian Harnisch, Jason "Pudge" Sanders.

2004 Wyoming Men's Cross Country team.  Laramie, WY.  Back (L to R): Nick Cramer, me, Jeremy Thompson, Chris Schabron.  Front (L to R): Matt Hudson, Brian Harnisch, Brian Knight.

2005-2006 Wyoming Men's Distance Squad.  Provo, UT.  Back (L to R): Shadrack Too, Michael Huntington, Jeremiah Johnson, Brett Schuler, me, Philemon Tanui.  Front (L to R): Mark Korir, Brian Knight, Chris Schabron.