Finals, year 2

For the second year in a row, I have the damn outside lane. Whatever, I guess 12 is my lucky number now.

The waiting is the worst part. My race is at 3:40. I wake up at 9 to go for a shakeout run.

It feels just awful.

I stretch after 10min, enjoying the morning. Or trying to.

10 more minutes of jogging. Feels better.

It's noon, and I've stomached the last thing I'll eat today. The waiting is definitely the worst part.

I sit around my dorm room. I stand up, it's 1:30. I walk around. Sit back down. Stand up. Lay down. Drink water. Shake legs. Stick legs. Sit up. Screw around on the internet. It's 1:35.

God dammit.

After trying to stay mentally calm yet anxious at the same time, I finally decide to walk down to the track at 2:45. I get my number from the infield, and a little after 3:05 I get my 3 other teammates to go warm up.

My heart is racing no pump up music today thats too much wheres my softer stuff? just calm down, you'll do fine you dont even know how fit you are just calm down calm down calm down

I don't need as long of a warm up today as I did my shakeout earlier. 12min should do fine. I find a spot in the shade, alone to stretch

20min to go, start your active stretching

I'll be told later that I look like a mix of fear and anxiety

10min to go, walk down to the infield, start your strides.

I feel loose, quick. Like my regular running shoes are weighing me down.

7min to go, spike up.

All my warm ups are gone except my longer shorts over my track shorts, which will stay on until the very last moment.

In a line, the 24 individual legs shake out like a reverberating wave. All 12 athletes are being told instructions, and all 12 are ignoring them. They've done this countless times.

The gun washes away every thought.

I glance over and pick my spot, settling into 3rd place around the turn. The man who has chosen to take the race head on early has my blessing, and when he moves I move around 3rd and settle into 2nd. 64 first lap.

Unbenounced to me, the rest of the field hadn't followed us that tightly. While the leader and I went through in 64, the rest of the field went through closer to 66, jostling.

Coming up to 2 laps to go I am confused. The pace has slowed as the leader is tiring slightly, and I'm very, very comfortable. With the 5th fastest PR in the field, the only words I can manage to form over the dull shouts of the crowd are

Where the fuck is everyone. 2:09/10

The pace is slowing and I know a move will come soon. I brace for a move, and it comes on cue. With 600m to go, my 3 teammates fly by at a much quicker pace.

The race has started. REALLY started.

400m to go and I am right behind my 3 teammates who have taken to the forefront, shadowed by one other runner.

There are 5 now, with 2 more only a step off the pace 3:12, a 62 for that last lap for me, closer to a 61 for them

300 to go I have more I have more give me an opening something anything THERE

A spot opens on the inside and I take it, sliding into a dead heat with another runner for 2nd, behind my teammates who has taken first sprint for home.

I'm tiring but they have to be too

I push, and the three of us for a gap on the re-forming pack behind us.

150m to go and I'm gapped in both directions as I start to fade. 100m to go and I just grit.

get 3rd get 3rd get 3rd holy fuck get 3rd

I stave off an attack from a faster peer, and make it. 3rd. A shade over 3:59, 46.x for the last 300m.

The commotion is....loud. The race definitely shook some perceptions all across the board, and was probably exciting to watch that last 300m. I was told that all 7 came back into contention with 250m left.

3rd gives me 1st Team All-Conference. First time I've been first team, I can add it to my two 2nd Team awards.

Slowly, slowly I climb.

Delayed gratification is the best gratification.

The place is set, now it's time to go chase some times.

Prelims, year 2

Despite my incessant requests, I was put in the 1500m instead of the 800m for the conference meet, despite really only running it once (a week ago). I ran a 4:01 training through, which threw me up at 6th on the conference lists, one the guys ahead of me is a 5k+ guy so he won't be running it. For all intents and purposes I sit at 5th.

Luckily for me, the 1500m is far weaker (depth wise) than the 800m, so making finals won't be overly difficult, it's just scoring better than 5th over 4 people who are 3+ seconds ahead of me, while simultaneously watching my ass for the 2 guys less than a second behind me.

On the line, I'm nervous. Really nervous.

I know I will likely qualify, but I still am afraid I'll mess up somehow. Step on a rail, get outkicked, make some sort of blundering mistake.

In finals, I never have these thoughts, it's just in prelims. It's just in races where to not qualify means that I have to screw up.

The gun signifies a literal walk from the line. We go through the first lap in a 74. 7.4. What's going on, that's unheard of.

The leader starts to roll back the pace - slowly. We go through 800m in 2:20. A 66, still a joke.

With 400m to go, there are 6 guy still in contention. Top4 auto qualify

If the pack is still tight with 300m to go, my coaches words echo in my head
surge so that you don't have to rely on your kick which will tire you out for tomorrow

I fly around my teammates on the bed, pointing at my chest as I go by, signaling to them in frantic bursts of words ME, ME, ON ME

Our stronger guy is doubling back, and I would rather be the one to push the pace than have him do the work. We come through the 3rd lap in 3:22, a 62 for the 3rd lap, and yet the group is still there.

I push down the back stretch and around the turn. With 100m to go, there are 4 of us separated from the rest, two of my teammates alongside me as we stroll into the finish.

Check back is someone there? close but not that close. slow down. slow down. too much, taper, taper

And the oddest 4:10 I've ever run is done, and I'm into the final.

Conference Decisions

In the 90+ degree heat yesterday, I PR'd in the 1500. The race was honestly one of the most painful things I can ever remember doing.

The plan: Have me pace through 500/600meters @ 63s pace, then have our faster guys take over and drag me through the rest of the race.

The goal: Beat LaVerne's #1, AND make him tired enough to be a non-factor doubling back in the 5k later on. Also, personally, go sub4.

The Race.

The gun goes and two LaVerne guys burst out to the early lead. I settle in, content with their pace but they slow. A hand wave from a teammate at 200m tells me that this is not what we planned for. I move up and push

We go through 300m just on 49seconds, and 400m just on 64 seconds. I continue to push the pace, but settle into something more feasible. 63s. As I start to slow down a tad just before 800m, my teammates take over. 2:07, me 2:08

I hang and hang jesus christ it's hot just stick on the back of laverne, you have more footspeed

300m to go

I think he's dying

200m to go

He's definitely dying, I'm clipping his heels and I haven't even changed gears yet.

100m to go

I give everything and float by him cross the line jesus it hurts why does it hurt so much i dont remember this pain fuck its hot

I spend the next 30min in a combination of jogging and vomiting.

The time isn't as fast as I would have liked, but you can never be too upset with a PR.

The issue: It puts me at #5 on the conference lists for the 1500, but I got knocked down to #9 on the 800m list. So what do I run at conference?

I don't think I can win the 1500, it's stronger up top, but making finals and scoring is basically assured. I could actually win the 800 if I run spectacular, the #1 mark is naught more than 1.5s ahead of me from a time I ran over a month ago.

BUT, there are so many people so close together, I could not even make the final. Or if I do I could not even place.

But I could win.

I'm gambling. Do I place my bet on a sure thing with slim risk and small reward? Or do I place my bet on a high-risk ticket, with huge reward?

Decisions like these kill me.

Cal/Nevadas

Last weekend, Claremont hosted Cal/Nevadas for the first time in school history. Actually the first time a DIII school has ever hosted it.

Cal/Nevadas is a big, mid-season (for us, early season for DI) invitational in which the top 36 entries from ANY college in California or Nevada may run. All running events under 1500m have prelims, with finals the next day.

My odds at sneaking into this meet with a 1:56.low PR were slim. Luckily, UCLA decided to head up to Stanford invite this year, so I got into the meet in what can only be described as a soft year for distances.

I was pumped to run here, as it is one of the measuring sticks of success for our team, but scared at the same time because of the quality of the field. I was in the 4th heat, and wasn't a very high seed - even in my heat.

Top 9 of the 36 entries made finals, so I was just content with sitting back and being pulled to a fast time by some top quality DI runners.


Everything about the meet was intense. The times were fast, the crowd large, and the sound they made larger. Even the check-in procedure was intense. I nervously warmed up, feeling pretty good from taking the last couple of days easy. When it was time, the clerk collected all of the 800 runners, and had us walk behind him, down the practice field, onto the track, and around the bend to the start line as the respective cheers for teammates already started.

I felt like I was being paraded about. It was pretty awesome (in the literal sense).

I had delayed my warm up a tad, because I was in the 4th heat of 4, so I had probably an extra 10min before my heat from the first one. As the heats are running and I being to spike up, I'm noticing that the times are relatively slow for the caliber of the field. There's a gnarly wind on the back stretch, which deterred leading by a lot of the top guys.

The sneaking suspicion that I might be able to sneak into the final on time crosses my mind briefly, but I dismiss it as a pipe dream and focus on my race.

As the gun goes 1:45.0 runner Charles Jock burst out in front, the pace light for him but harsh for me - someone 11 seconds his junior

I go through in 56.1, perfectly on what I wanted to do. As we head around the front bend and onto the backstretch for the second time, I move up to get on the inside. With 250m, I decide to go. Hard.

I hammer up but am held off by a few of the better runners, who cover my move well. I sit in 4th place going into the bend: 1:24.5.

Ouch, a little quick for the 3rd 200.

I start to fade in the last 100m, but hold on alright and dip under 1:56 for the first time, totally spent. 5th in my heat, but still happy with the time as that was the goal going in. I made some mistakes in tactics, so I know I can improve. A good day.

As I gather my things and walk across the field, back to the warm up area, I hear over the loudspeaker:

"The four winners of each heat move on plus the 5 next fastest times, which are Johnathan Evans from Long Beach State, Rusty Parker from UC Santa Barbara, Cameron Mitchell of UC Irvine, Dustin Harris of UC San Diego..."

a pause.

"..And with a nice PR, Quinn Chasan of CMS rounds out our qualifying spots in 9th."

I can't believe it. Seriously. I had to check the results. I run off, looking for someone to hug.

Oh, and I came back the next day and got obliterated by a rested up DI field.

The glimmering tastes of success are the reason I run.

I slept like a baby that night.

Mid Season development

I'm starting to get the hang of the pop in my legs. We've put the training-through phase on hold for a moment as we grapple for a few good times at Oxy Distance Carnival and Cal/Nevada Championships.

After a couple of 800s in 1:56.0 and 1:56.4 respectively, plus a couple of insanely harsh workouts, my speed is starting to develop into what I'm wanting to to. I still have a ways to go, but 26s 200s feel comfortable, and that is a step in the right direction.

Yesterday was a good indicator. A staple workout we have is called the '500 breakdown.' It goes 500-400-300, 7min recovery. All out. That's it. Sounds easy? It's ridiculously hard. You're essentially in three separate races. Against your teammates. Against yourself. Against the clock.

I usually lead the first 200m of most reps, simply because the other guys aren't the best pacers in the world. But this workout isn't about pace, you just go all out.

15min warmup, then spike up.

The long warmup gives us time to feel out our muscles after spring break. We've had a pretty easy last couple of days, so everyone should feel good. At least to some degree.

On the line for the 500, the mood is a little tense. Everyone knows how much this workout hurts.

As we fly around the turn and down the backstretch, I settle in. 200m passed in 26.low. Nothing I haven't done before.

Coming around the turn for the home straight I feel good. I have another gear. Lets use it

I change gears and pass the 400m mark in 53.5. 67 for the 500.

7min of sauntering about, trying to stay loose before the hamstrings lock up and stay that way.

400m - 54/55

7min of stumbling about, trying to get rid of the locked hamstrings.

Final 100m of the 300, and everyone is in their own world. The Pain has shifted to track mode. Unquestionably, unequivocally, track mode.

The next 45min are a daze. Runners are strewn about the track premises, throwing up, shuffle jogging, clutching their sides, legs, head, the grass. We are a mess.

But the speed pays off. How much can a race hurt when you hurt this much in practice?

Let me tell you,

not as much.

Training Through.

The biggest difference between high school and college for me is the training method known as "training through."

Basically, you disregard running well on a random Saturday meet in order to get an extra hard day or two of training in that week. Repeat this for 10 weeks and you probably are a bit stronger than you would've been had you taken that day easy.

The thing is, this means you run pretty poorly in races, because your legs are toast at the starting line.

This week was a perfect example. Tuesday was one of the hardest speed workouts I've ever done, wednesday was a typical base run, which allowed us to recover for thursday - a long interval workout with little rest inbetween. This made us tired for friday, which was another typical base EXCEPT this time we were lucky enough to have a 2mile tempo in the middle of it.

Flash forward to saturday, and I'm struggling with my warm up.

Not exactly what I would call pleasant.

The race was odd, because I was aerobically walking, but anaerobically obliterated. I kept looking down thinking - "come on legs do something." but nothing came.

I understand this process, I've seen it work wonders. And, god willing, it probably will for me too. But it's not the feel-good challenge that you are used to.

I love racing, toeing the line even with my competitors and putting it all out there. But that's the thing - when we do stuff like this, it's frustrating because I know that if I had taken the last couple days easy I would've stomped them. I ran about 8 seconds slower than I'm currently capable of, and that is fucking infuriating.

But I know that eventually I'll feel good, and I'll get a shot at doing what I do best.

Racing fresh.

It's just making sure I can survive the path there that's the problem.

The Library

There is a phenomenon I've been noticing on the track lately. I call it The Library.


It's fairly rare, maybe once every two weeks or so, but when it happens it's impossible to miss.


The entire team is running threshold intervals, and they are on the shorter side. 600m on the high end.

This is a time where everyone is focused inward, as the pace given is going to be far from a cakewalk. Around and around the symphonic beats strike to a different rhythm but to the same tune. As the line is crossed, the repetition ends and slowly the lone runners come together in groups and pairs to jog around the infield in between sets, keeping the legs warm. Twos and threes, sometimes fours and fives but never more than five. The infield is alive with the slow, recovering pace of weary footprints.



And everything is silent.



There's really nothing to talk about. A grunt of disdain, barely audible creeps it way out of those who are having a worse day than others. A hushed whisper between a pair on the other side of the field is completely inaudible to everyone else. Never intentionally - simply for lack of air.

There's really nothing to talk about. Everyone has been here countless hours, preparing for some far off test. Communication isn't necessary, and simply takes the mind off of the task at hand. What is important is focusing on yourself recovering, preparing, staying loose, and staying confident. positive. hopeful.


So we circle the field as a collective family of 50, stumbling along like lethargic ants in chaos; everything silent.


Because there's really nothing to talk about.