You Can't Coach Desire....

I bumped into my Old track coach on Monday at the Y. After a few minutes of shooting the shit, we got to talking about the team. He started complaining that none of his current kids like to work, and as result the cross country and track teams have suffered a "fall from grace". It got me to thinking what was different when I ran there. Sure most of us weren't the next Prefontaine, but well all showed up to practice, we all bitched about coach because we didn't understand his style then...I think I sort of get it now....I think it was we had a desire to run, a desire to compete, a desire to bust each other's balls on the next long run. For me it was something different...I was told point blank Freshman Year "I would never be a Champion." Will I dispute the fact..no...In my shape freshman year it was a miracle I was cranking out sub-6 min miles. Now most guys probably would have quit hearing words like those, but the following day I was back at practice ready to bust my ass that much harder. I busted my ass for three more years and while it would be a great Hollywood style ending If I said I became Conference Champion in the 2 mile as a senior...The closest I came to a Varsity Gold was a 5th Place at The Waterbury City Championship. A bad result some would say, but not bad for a guy who was struggling to run a mile in 8th grade and was doing it in roughly the same time as it took me to do that top 5 3200.

Even Yesterday as I cranked out a 15 miler I ended up bumping in into one of the track Runners for Wilby High School in Waterbury. The kid was doing 7 miles in an old beat up pair of Asics he'd borrowed from his coach because his other pair were about to disintegrate, and like me he was running on a day where cold and sloppy road conditions kept most drivers at home.



I sort of got to thinking most of us bitch about not having THE Bike, or THE running shoes, or THE coach. But in essence all the $5000 tri bikes, $200/month coaching sessions, the newest running shoes, or God given VO2 max that would make the most competitve Kenyan tremble with fear, mean jack Shit if you don't have desire.



Alright that was my semi- soft post post for the year



R.D.