Running has been a life long endeavor of mine, beginning back in 3rd grade, when challenged to run the mile in P.E. I was thrilled with my 2nd place finish and discovered that I liked running. My first road race was 5th grade, a 1-mile fun run in Cleveland Park in my hometown of Greenville, SC. I finished 4th, good enough to get an award. I chuckle when I see the pictures of myself in the huge race t-shirt I thought I had to wear to run the race. I sure had a lot to learn about running and racing.
By middle school, I had not been blessed by a growth spurt and therefore was too small to succeed at any organized sports, or for that matter even be picked to be on anybody’s team in gym class. The only exception was soccer, which is simply running around with a ball. It’s no wonder I enjoyed soccer. Playing soccer showed me not only could I run, but I could run fast and for a long time. By 7th grade I learned about “cross country” at the high school I would be attending in a few years, and that pretty much it was just a bunch of running. Perfect. I was especially interested in the idea of being on a high school team while still in middle school.I joined the Wade Hampton Cross Country team and found a whole new definition of running. By the 3rd day, I was going on 4 mile runs, although I couldn’t say I ran the whole way. It was awesome though, being around high school kids, having a feeling of belonging, and I was actually good enough to beat a few high school runners! By the end of the season, I could finish a 5K in 20 minutes and was in the best shape of my life. By the beginning of 9th grade, I entered high school already knowing my way around, knowing upper classmen, and as a member of the Varsity team. Throughout the season, I solidified myself as our team’s 5th man. I also won my first race, the J.V. Hanna Invitational, and the team won as well. I was thankful to my coach for letting me run a few J.V. races and feel the success of competing with people my own age, even though I was good enough for Varsity. I began to love running, because it was all about the effort I alone put in. I didn’t have to rely on my teammates to be successful. I liked to push myself hard every race, never letting up. Races for me were chances to show how hard you had worked and to push yourself harder than you thought you could. I have strong memories of one race where our team competed against our local rival team, but the older Varsity guys had agreed with the rival team to all “take it easy” so they could rest up for a race that weekend. For me, taking it easy was wasting an opportunity. Why race if you aren’t going to race? I raced, from the gun, out in front of everyone. They yelled at me, told me to slow down. I didn’t listen. I was here to race. I dashed to the front and held the lead for 2 miles. Eventually the older guys ran me down and I believe I ended up in 5th place, but with a PR for the course and for the year. Of course I also ended up with most of the Varsity team mad at me. My response was ‘If you didn’t want to race, you shouldn’t have. You could have just let me go’. The next day at practice, they cornered me deep in the woods on a training run and aggressively lectured me about being part of the team and that I wasn’t a team player. I just said that there is no point in racing if we aren’t going hard. It was a difficult lesson to learn, but I never regretted my choices, and in fact have ended up a better, more competitive runner for maintaining this mindset. I made the top seven on the team and was part of the group that goes to the South Carolina State Championships. As a freshman, it was overwhelming to say the least but was good experience to build on for the future. I placed 6th on our team and 51st overall. Our team finished well enough to take 2nd place and everyone received medals. I was hooked. Being there for that race, I knew that someday I wanted to be standing on top of the podium, I wanted to win the State Championship. I wanted to do what no guy on our team had ever done, and we had some very talented runners. It would be my eventual goal to win it all. Over the next few years, I steadily improved my running performance and ability. As a sophomore, I had progressed to the number two spot on our Varsity team for most of the season. My aim was to make All-County (Top 10), All-Region (Top 7), and All-State (Top 15) this year, something that had not been accomplished as a sophomore by a student and Wade Hampton. After being stuck above 17 minutes for the entire season, I broke through with a 16:58 at the Greenville County meet, placing me in 12th, just shy of my goal. At Regions, I improved my time to 16:42, my season PR, and finished in 8th place, a mere 6 seconds from All-Region. So far, my dreams were being crushed by the narrowest of margins. I ran a steady 16:44 at Upper State and then prepared myself for the State Championships. One shot left to salvage my goals. I ran as hard as I could through a challenging course. I knew I was up near the front of the race in the top 20, but I had no idea how far up. After mile1, I was able to move past two of my teammates who had gone out hard, one of which had taken the 7th place at Regions and snagged my All-Region spot. I passed a few more runners, and tried my best not to be passed. Rounding the last turn and heading down the infamous long straightaway, I concentrated on catching the two runners directly in front of me. No matter how hard I tried, though, I could gain no ground. I finished with two runners a second in front of me, reliving nightmares of the Region meet. 16th? 17th? What place had I finished? I managed to come in 15th place, and earn my All-State honors. I had a smile from ear to ear, and wore it for weeks. I had just set a new mark for myself, and had put the perfect ending on the season.Junior year started with a pop, not a bang, as I pulled my hamstring a few days before our first meet. I was devastated by the injury that had me sit out our first meet. As part of recovery, I was forced to wear compression shorts, which would prevent me from causing any more damage as I continued to train, but severely limited my stride and slowed me down considerably. It was a miserable season, with little success on the course. My leg did heal, but my racing suffered. With one week and one race until the County Championships, I had yet to run faster than my 16:42 from the previous year and had in fact not even run faster than 17 minutes. The Wednesday prior to County meet was our last regular season meet, called a handicap race. Everyone lines up according to their fastest time of the year, slowest in the front and fastest in the back. The clock starts counting down from the highest time, and whenever your number comes up, you go. If everyone ran their best time, theoretically, everyone would finish at the same time, when the clock said “0:00”. I was still sporting the compression shorts and my coach had told me I could take them off for Counties, but not before. I had had too much; I could not stand running another race in them. I told him I was going to race without them and I didn’t care what he thought. He was not happy with me and told me when I hurt my legs, not to come crying to him. I took my chances. When the clock hit 17:06 I took off, and took off hard. It felt great to run with freedom. With only two people behind me, I had a lot of people to catch. I didn’t see many people until the last mile. By then, I was passing them as if they were standing still. I chased down one after another and soon found myself nearing the finish line. I knew I would have a good time, I would probably get under 17 minutes, but I was not sure how far. The clock said 16:16!! I had taken 50 seconds off my season best, and improved my PR by 26 seconds. I had actually run the fastest time of the day, faster than our number one runner. I could not contain myself. I was back; I was ready, and just in time for the races that count.At County meet, I gave my best performance of the season and finished in 4th place with a 16:11, only 5 seconds behind our top runner and making the All-County team. The next week I continued with my success, running a 16:26, good enough for a 4th place finish at Regions. Our team also took the Team Region Championship, something we had not done in 5 years. I felt like a new season had begun for me. Four days later was the Upper State Championships, which played out rather unexpectedly for me. I raced as usual, going out hard, setting a good pace, and hoping for a good, fast time. What I didn’t expect was at the halfway point to be sitting in 2nd place. The only person in front of me was our top runner, and amazingly I was gaining ground on him. With a half mile to go, I pulled even with him, and then shocked myself when I passed him! I knew it was only a matter of time before he passed me back and took first place; he was definitely the stronger runner. I was in new territory, almost running scared. Was I really leading the Upper State Championships? I didn’t look back, and crossed the finish line in 16:21 - I had finished first, winning my first race since my freshman year. I was exploding with excitement; I never would have predicted a finish like that. All that was left was the State Championships. With my recent performances, my coach told both me and the number one runner on our team that we had a shot at the State title - to just go for it, it could happen. I had gone from middle of the road to contender in a matter of a few weeks. Naturally, I went for it. The day of the race, I put in all I had and soon realized I would not be claiming the championship. I was not disappointed, however, because I knew I was near the front of the pack. And just like the Upper State meet, with a half mile to go, I caught and passed our top runner. I wish I could have pulled him along with me, I knew how important this meet was to him. I pushed on toward the finish and down the notorious straightaway and ended my junior year with a 6th place finish and a spot on the All-State team. It was a thrilling end to a season that almost wasn’t.With a taste of success, I committed my senior season to capturing the State Championship. After a lackluster junior track season (I’m not really going to write much about track - for some reason, I don’t have the mindset for it, and was never very successful), I began training twice a day throughout the summer, amassing at my peak 70 miles a week. As school began, I continued with my runs before school and after. My hard work all summer-long paid off and I picked up where I had left off the previous year, winning the first meet of the season, the Eye Opener Invitational. That set the tone for the year. In 3A competition, I would go undefeated throughout the regular season. I would also pick up a big win at the Hanna Invitational and runner up finishes at Lake Murray Invitational and Trojan Invitational. As the County Championships approached, I was anxious to improve my time, being that I had only knocked 7 seconds from my best time last year. I was also anxious to go head to head with the best athlete among the 4A schools. He went out hard, and so did I, knowing I would have to run spectacular to surpass him. We passed mile 1 at 4:49, and then by mile 2, I fell off the pace a little, still passing in 10:01. I pushed as hard as I could, but ultimately, I would own 2nd place with a high school PR of 15:37. I then felt like I had joined a special group, getting below 16 minutes. I was ready for States, but first, I had to conquer Regions.I carried the enthusiasm of a great race into the Region meet. But my mind began to mess with me. Yeah, I had just broken through to the 15’s and had an amazing race, but so had a rival from another high school in 3rd place with a 15:55. I began to think ‘He was only 18 seconds behind me, and his best time now beats ALL of my times except one’. What if I run like I have been running and he has a good race? What if I can’t run the same as I did last week?’ Shadows of doubt crept in, I ran the race hundreds of times in my head during school the day of the race. By the time I arrived at the starting line, I was mentally fatigued. The weight of a perfect season was weighing heavily on my mind, and I was already out of energy. The gun fired, the crowd took off, with me leading the pack. From the outside, it seemed all was well, but inside, I was panicking. I didn’t have the energy and my legs had turned to rubber. By halfway, I still led, but I was fading, my breath getting shallow. With less than a mile to go, my rival caught me. I was screaming inside ‘NO!!! How could this be happening?!’. I ran beside him, but he soon inched ahead of me, extending his lead to 5 feet, then 10 feet, then 15 feet, then 20 feet. There was nothing I could do….or was there? The mind is a powerful thing and it is often said that running is 90% mental, and the toughest battle to win is the won between your ears. As hundreds of thoughts streamed through my brain, most of shame and despair and letdown, I heard myself say ‘HEY! No one has beat you from 3A this year, and it’s not going to happen today. You are better than this guy and you are not going to let him beat you, not today!’ As if a gift from God, I had a sudden burst of energy as my mind accepted the challenge of winning the race and knew what was needed to win. We were less than a half mile now from the finish, and I closed the gap between him and me in a matter of seconds. I passed by him without slowing down and with a sense of urgency to finish this race. I ran in top gear all the way to the finish, taking the Region Championship with a 16:08. On that day, I learned a valuable lesson about thinking too much about your race ahead of time.Having proven to myself that I was tough both physically and mentally in the last race, I went into the Upper State Championships with a sense of confidence. From the gun I led, and I led the whole way, by a large margin. I was relaxed, feeling as if I were running a summer tempo workout. I hardly looked at my watch, or looked behind me. It was a nice easy day, and I clocked a 15:45. What a difference a little confidence makes. I had repeated as Upper State Champion, and I had beaten the closest runner by 35 seconds. And yet I felt as if I had hardly run at all. I knew then that I was ready, ready to claim my spot as the South Carolina State Champion. I came into the race with a cold, but I did not let it deter me. It was a blustery fall morning but in my mind, a perfect day for racing. I had waited a long time for this. As the favored one, now it was time to prove that I deserved to be called champion. There on the line, a strange calm came over me, and I looked around at everyone else and thought ‘I’ve got this; there is no one out here today who is good enough to beat me. I will win, I know it’. At the gun, I went out in around 15th place, with my plan to pick off people one by one. I soon weaved through the field and had only a few runners in front of me. I passed them on the uphill, and as we crested the top, I put in a surge to put a gap between me and the field. I was opening up a lead, when at a hairpin turn around mile 1, tragedy struck. My racing flats slipped on the newly cut grass and my feet flew out from under me, sending me hurling to the ground. In a micro-second I was screaming in my head that this was not fair, and that my chances were over. There was no way to recover from that kind of mistake…or was there?Instantly, my brain just told my legs to get up and go, and they did. Not only was I not caught by the pursuing runners, but I began to get further and further away. My lead was actually increasing! I already had visions of the finish; I just wanted it to be over. The years of hard work, the sacrifice, the early mornings, the work – it all came down to this. I still held the lead and as I rounded the last turn for home, I took a peak behind me I saw that I had taken the race, now all I had to do was make it down the last 300 meters. I actually let up, knowing I had it won. I cruised across the finish in 16:04, taking my place as the 1996 SC State Champion. It was one of the most amazing experiences of my life, and one of the things that I worked extremely hard for. It was celebration time. My long time goal had been met. I had done it. I still get chills to even recount this story.So where does that leave me? The problem with amazing huge goals is the let down that ensues afterward, and the lack of focus and direction. Upcoming was my senior track season and I was out of goals. My thoughts would drift toward thinking about a Championship in the 3200 meters and 1600 meters, but I never had that drive and fire of cross country. I was never the stellar track athlete. I ran hard throughout the season, running 2 and 3 meets a week, competing in the 3200, 1600, 800, and sometimes 4 x 800 relay, every week. It’s the equivalent of doing speed work 3 times a week, which, if you are the least bit familiar with running, you will know that is a recipe for disaster. Too much racing. I carried on through the season, not realizing the toll it was taking on me both physically and mentally. At the County meet, I placed 2nd in the 3200 (9:57), 3rd in the 1600 (4:38), 5th in the 800 (2:07) and led off the 4 x 400 relay (54.3). I set PR’s in 3 races that day. In my mind, I felt like I was in a good position, but I failed to realize the damage was done, and I would be on a downward spiral from here. That day was my finest high school track meet, and I would do no better than that. In track, individuals must qualify to advance to the next round, there is no team qualification. The County Championships were more of an exhibition to showcase talent, but they did not lead to other races. The Region Championship was up next, and in order to advance to the Upper State meet, you must place in the top three in each event. I was scheduled for the 3200 and 1600, the two events that I wanted to win at State meet, or at least what I tried to convince myself I wanted to win. There was no fire, though, but more obligation, and almost a sense of desperation. I just didn’t feel like I had it in me. My first event was the 1600, and six runners had a legitimate shot at making the top three, all of which had times under 4:40. Four laps around the oval, surging, cruising, jockeying for position. I fell to the back of the pack of six a few times, and would claw my way back. I never took the lead, but I was still in the hunt. Time was running out, and our pack was rounding the last turn and heading for the final 100 meters. The two leaders out front had a large gap on the rest of us and dueled for who would win top honors.Meanwhile, I was still stuck in 4th place, and directly in front of me was the previous year’s 1600 State Champion, also known for his ability to out-kick any competition at the finish. I immediately knew it was over and would have to settle for fourth. But I noticed he had pulled off the throttle a little; I imagine he felt he had a qualifying spot locked up and he wanted to save his legs for his other three events. This brought hope to my legs, and I charged with everything I had, not leaving an ounce in the tank and not even caring about the 3200 I would race tomorrow. With about 15 meters to go, he made a crucial mistake: to check on his lead and security of his spot, he glanced over his right shoulder for a view of the track behind him. What he failed to see was me, charging hard up the inside of the track, outside of his field of view. By the time he saw me it was too late, I had him, and there was not enough track to recover. We both dove for the finish line, undaunted by the asphalt track we would be crashing down on. When we were pulled to our feet, it was revealed that I had edged him out in 4:37, a new PR. And for the first time, I qualified for the Upper State track meet. Despite my successes in the fall out on the cross country course, I had yet to see any success in qualifying for any post season races. Finally, I was on my way.The following day, I raced the 3200, which in my mind I should have been able to cruise through and win. It was challenging, though, and I was unable to summon any bursts of energy or last second miracles. My legs were toast, and I finished with a 10:07, good enough to qualify me for Upper State, but not good enough to win it. I wasn’t extremely upset, but I was getting man-handled by the same people I had thrashed in the fall. Gone was my confidence and mental stamina. I was only left with confusion and self doubt. I had qualified in two events, however, so there was cause to celebrate. A week later, I was lined up on the starting line for the 1600, ready to stake my spot in the State Championships. The top four qualified, and we all went out hard like we wanted it. We were in a tight bunch, and as we crossed the finish line for lap one, I was tripped from behind, sending me to the dirt. In an instant, it was over. If only someone had held me back and said ‘It’s ok, just let it go, and focus on your 3200’. Instead, I hit panic mode, there was no way this was it, my race could not be over. I kicked it into high gear to catch back up to the field. I moved my way through a few runners, in hopes that a miracle would happen, and I would still get in. But, it was too short of a race, and I had spent too much energy. When it was time to let loose on the final lap, I had nothing. I lurched home in a 4:51 and a 6th place finish. Crushed, hurt, exhausted, furious, I somehow had to ready myself for the 3200. I had wasted so much energy trying to catch up in the 1600, it had taken its toll. From the start, I knew I had nothing, and it showed. I convinced myself that I was just running hard enough to qualify, so place didn’t matter. The thing was, that on that day, I ran as hard as I could, I didn’t know what was happening to my body, but it was not reacting, and it was slowing down. I crossed the finish in 10:19 and 4th place, enough to qualify, but by far my worst performance of the year….so far.At State meet, on a hot, summerlike afternoon, I had a chance to be a two-time State Champion. But I knew before I began, there was no chance for me. Everything felt wrong; I had no control, I was fatigued, and my legs ached. On the outside, I tried to keep it together, but on the inside, pure turmoil. As we lined up on the track, I looked around at my competition and my thoughts ventured back to the previous fall, when I dominated and beat every single one of these guys lined up next to me. But that day, I was intimidated by them and had a bad feeling about what was to come. The gun sounded, and I went with the field, pulling into a close second. This place was short lived though, I could only hold my position through two laps. Then, my mind just shut off, my body just went on auto pilot, and I had nothing left to give. I was spent, and I could do no more. I trudged through 8 laps and finished in 6th place, with a time of 10:34, a time so slow I had not run like that since I was a sophomore. I was humiliated. This was not supposed to happen. I was supposed to have a perfect ending to my season. Not even close. I closed out my high school career on a very low note.So, what happens next? Most say you run for your college team. Again, my problem was that the prospect of running in college did not light a fire in my heart. In fact, running period did not light anything for me anymore. I was completely burnt out and was tired of running dictating what I did and how much sleep I got. I wanted a social life. I was supposed to run for Clemson University in the fall, and spend most of the summer preparing for that. Instead, I spent the summer enjoying life. I ran about 10 miles a week, but mostly I didn’t run; I did not want to run and was unsure when I would want to run again. August arrived, and it was time to report for cross country at Clemson. That first week, we ran 60 miles. I was being drug by everyone. I had no shot of succeeding here, nor did I care - but deep down it was upsetting. We had time trials at the end of that week. I had come to training 15 pounds heavier than the previous fall, and was even called fat by one of the trainers. I placed last of everyone at the 4 mile race, only able to muster a 24:12. How the mighty had fallen. The coach pulled the bottom three of us aside and told us we just were not good enough. I was a little relieved. Plus, with engineering as my chosen major, I did not know how I would fit in practice and classes and still pass - so for my academics, it was better this way. I was done, officially out, through with running, maybe for good; it just was not for me anymore. I lived life in college, had a lot of fun, but continued my downward spiral away from running and my championship days. I was playing a lot of basketball, but eating and drinking horribly. By February of 1998, I had ballooned from 140 pounds at peak running weight to 185 pounds. I still ran from time to time, but nothing serious. This was my life now, the runner I once was, now just a memory. Ever so often I would get the itch to race, and try hard to get in shape. In November of my sophomore year, I managed to run a 20k and actually lose some weight. Soon after the race, it was back on. The following fall, I had another itch: to do a marathon. I signed up with the Leukemia society to do a marathon at Mount Rushmore - it seemed like a great adventure. I trained for it, putting in 40-50 miles a week, trying to be serious about it. I still clung to my unhealthy habits and only managed to lose a little weight. The experience was eye opening and brutal. I was not prepared for the pain one must endure in a marathon. It was like nothing I had felt before. I went out way to fast, like a high school kid at a local road race, and felt the effects by mile 16. The last 10 were agonizing, and there were times I stopped and walked, crawled, and even just sat down. I bonked horribly, I was just struggling to finish. But in the end, I had done it. I finished in 3:21:25. At the end of this race, I told myself I would never want to do this again. How wrong I was.I did not do any serious running for a few years after the marathon. I still lived a very unhealthy life and I was miserable inside my body. I started gaining more weight, and by the spring of 2001, I was almost 200 pounds, a depressing and sad sight. I was resigned to the fact I was going to be one of those fat guys with a beer gut, and that’s just the way it would be. I would have one more semester to complete in the fall before I graduated, so I decided I would study abroad and go to England to study engineering at the University of Bristol. This trip would act as the catalyst for what became the next chapter in my running life.