Life and the half-mile
Okay, I know I suck for not writing more. I should be lucky to have this opportunity and I haven't been putting it to much use..so, I'll be better. I promise. That makes me sound like I'm some kind of abusive boyfriend to a running blog, which is hilarious given the fact that running itself is the ultimate abusive partner.
Anyway, life is going on right now. And by life, I mean work at the startup. When I joined up with the guys at the startup, I knew it was going to be a shift from the consistency of Yahoo!, but no matter how much you attempt to adjust for it, there are always areas of impact that you didn't quite consider. This past week or two has been particularly unusual in that as we wrap up another cycle for a new release of our software application, my time and the time of my teammates has dramatically ramped up as we bust to meet not only our deadlines, but the very lofty goals which we defined for the release. It's very stressful - in a good, creative way - but that level of effort and commitment often comes at the expense of other things in my life, and unfortunately in that vein one of the first things to go is always my daily workout.
This itself is actually doubly problematic because I've decided to take a strength approach to my 400m training, due to the inability to gain access to an actual track for the time being. I've decided to take a programmatic, almost cross-country like approach, training with miles and tempo runs to build a base of strength and stamina in order to be able to do longer sprint workouts and fast-paced runs later when it is warmer and presumably I will have either adapted to a schedule (ie: I'll have figured out how to handle the situations and plan better) or I will have simply decided to work around the necessity to work out, as in theory I can work anytime whereas I can only do sprint workouts when the track is open and so on.
Since I've been stressing strength and base over speed, I've put myself on the line for the half-mile (tentatively) for my next two meets, just to give myself a better idea of where my level of fitness is and how much longer I need to devote myself to base running. I've been working out at about 15 miles a week, alternating days where I'm really moving with days where length and consistency are the key. I'd estimate in peak fitness I probably could have ran a 800 in around 1:53 or 1:54 (despite not being specifically trained for it), so I think if I come anywhere near 2:00 or so in the next two times I run it, I'll be content with that and move towards sprinting.
Of course, none of that is possible until I get off my butt at work and start running, or start planning for days in which I know my workload will be crazy and figure out alternative plans. There really is no substitute for working out - and I remember all my old friends from college who were nursing injuries or whatever trying to use the excuse that hitting the bike was the same thing (ha!) - and I really should know better than to be lazing it up like I've been doing. It's just going to make that half-mile hurt worse and worse.
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"The good advice of friends unheeded, the best of plans mislaid.."
Let me start by saying that it took me awhile to figure out how to write this entry. I wasn't sure if I should immediately go into my discussion of DIII Nationals, talk about how my meet went over the weekend, dig a little bit more into my training schedule as it relates to trying to build a successful startup, or just kinda mash it up as I went along.
Well, let me keep it pretty simple. For the discussion of DIII Nationals, please see the Forums link at the top of this page. To be honest, I'm somewhat hesitant to start another discussion because multiple people have contacted me through various media to point out things that I missed out or otherwise got wrong in my writeups. I don't mind really, but it's kinda frustrating having not been there and having to go from a live feed which you can't rewind and go through a second time. And of course, every time you talk about an event and give opinions, not everyone is going to agree and some people might be upset at your opinion..well, sorry, that's just how I saw it. I want to give DIII some exposure and I'm glad that a lot of people saw the thread and followed in real-time, but stuff like that happening after the fact is kind of a bear to deal with.
Now, moving on to the meet. I would love, very much love to tell you that it went perfectly and that I ran a new PR and all of that. Here is the absolute truth, as embarassing as it is:
I missed the meet.
For some reason, I thought it was a Saturday meet (not realizing at the time that Saturday was essentially St. Patrick's day, and why would anyone hold a meet then..) but it was actually a Friday meet, and by the time I realized it, I was at work, right in the middle of everything and there was simply no way I could make it in time. I was really, really pissed although I guess now I can kinda laugh about it. Still, it's a lost opportunity and you can never replicate the meet experience outside of an actual meet, so it's a pretty big downer for me..and I'm kinda embarassed for being such an idiot. Ah well, next meet I guess.
Speaking of next meets, I've decided to pass on this week and run the next, and use that time to build up some base to run an 800m. I need to know where exactly my fitness level is, and in the same way a lot of 400m runners use the 200m to see where their sprint level is, I'm going to run an 800m to see whether or not I need to stay in my strength cycle or move to a more speed-oriented cycle. Like everything else, my only frame of reference so far as performance expectation is when I was running in college, and I'm fairly confident based on a 47.3 open 400m and a 4:51 mile that I could have run around a 1:55 800m or so. I won't be anywhere near that, of course, but it'll give me some perspective of where I need to go.
Also, again, everyone, thanks for reading. Please feel free to comment or hit me up on IM. It's really motivational to hear from people who have read my blog or even my DIII discussion in the forums (recent events aside), so please keep the discussion going.
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"I wanted water, but I'll walk through the fire if that's what it takes, to take me even higher.."
I hate John Mayer, but that lyric worked better than any I could think of.
Friday are always crazy where I work. It's bad enough that I work for a VC-funded Web 2.0 startup (oh, how I loathe those terms), but something about the end of the week and the rush to get things pushed out and demo'ed for the team amps everyone up to a whole different level. I love the action and the energy of my job, and certainly we're kept well-caffeinated to pound through those 14-hour days...but on a day like today I have a lot of trouble focusing and keeping my mind on the matters at hand.
On my mind:
1. DIII Nationals, baby.
2. Tomorrow is my first 400m of the season.
Anyone who knows me at all here on the Shark knows that I'm a huge DIII fan, partly due to my own experiences in the division but also because I know how hard athletes in the division work and I'd like to give them some recognition, even if they aren't the most elite athletes. To me, there's nothing more worthy of recognition than full-on dedication and effort alongside academic performance. I'd rather cheer on a walk-on 400m athlete at MIT running a 49 as opposed to someone at Penn State running a 47, and it's not just because I hate Penn State. A part of it is also because the athletes that I've come across in the DIII world are some of the most sportsman, friendly, and humble athletes in any sport, and it's great to give them the credit they deserve for being the kind of athlete that every kid should look up to.
Either way, if you have any thoughts on DIII or want to get involved in the discussion, please click here to take part in our DIII forums here on TrackShark.
As far as the Nationals themselves, I am mostly definitely rooting for my alma-mater (Carnegie Mellon) and it's qualified athletes, Eric Tang in the 55m and Brian Harvey in the Mile. Brian was an All-American last year and he's got a great shot at repeating, very consistent performance all year. Eric has dropped his 55m time like a rock lately, going from 6.61 to 6.38 in a matter of weeks, so he's flying high and in top form. Let's do it, guys!
Apart from CMU, I have a lot of friends who are competiting that I ran against way back when I was at Nationals myself (Adam Pennington, Chris Wolf) and of course, I gotta give some love to the UAA - the most nerdy conference you'll ever find - and root for the guys from Emory, even though they took all of my conference relay records. Bastards.
In other, possibly more interesting news, tomorrow is my first 400m of the season. I'm somewhat tempted to back out of it because I'm still nowhere near in the shape I'd like to be in and I'm fighting a bit of a cold (possibly hypochrondriatic), but it is unassailably true that you can't ever duplicate a meet experience from just training and I think it's very beneficial to go out and get it done, even if the time isn't so great. It's a ways away in Modesto - man, it's so much harder to find meets when you're unattached! - and I think I'm going to make a day trip out of it, and spending my cooling out/cramping up time checking out the mountains here in Northern Cali and generally taking in the surroundings of my new, adoptive home. Very nervous, as usual, but last meet worked out wonderfully so hopefully I'll get lucky and have lightning strike twice for me.
Lastly, I'd like to thank everyone (Marc Laszlo, my boy Big Lou, lawyer400meters) for their kind words and comments about this blog. One thing that is definitely true about me is that I'm a very open person; I'm more than fine with writing about what worries me, what upsets me, even what scares me because I think in a lot of ways the only point of having a blog is to be honest and open about my life and my running, and part of that is dealing with negative emotions as well as positive ones. I'd just like to thank everyone for their support and thank them for taking the time to read the blog.
I'll be in touch early next week (or maybe even Saturday night if I surprise myself again), with results from my meet and some discussion about DIII Nationals. Go Tartans!
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"For me, giving up is way harder than trying.."
April 24, 2005, I remember it well. I was inarguably in the best shape of my life, both physically and mentally. I had run in some fantastic facilities (indoor at Kent St. and the Armory, soon-to-be at DIII Nationals and the ECAC meets) and was making great strides, somewhat literally, with every meet and every event I entered. I was at Franklin Field on the campus of Washington University in St. Louis, Missouri , which also was the beautiful and historic home of the1904 Olympic Games. It was the conference meet against our hated rivals, although I say that very tongue-in-cheek because it's not Ohio State/Michigan I'm describing, but rather one of very mutual respect due to the knowledge that all of us are more concerned about our matrix algebra homework than our Mile times. I was excited, all of the things I worked for were coming true, seemingly all at once.
Yeah, April 24, 2005. The finals of the 200m, seeded 1st with a preliminary of 21.77. The time surprised even me, the race is not my forte nor did I ever specifically train for it, although logic somewhat dictates that if you're running a 47.36 400, your 200 is going to be pretty quick as well. The finals came, I started terribly - as was often the case due to being 6'5"/using Moye blocks/never practicing it - and was in dead last after 100m, splitting that distance in a crawling, sub-high school level 11.6. I turned the corner, saw home and I finally get the train going, splitting the next 100 in 9.9 and finishing 1st with a school record 21.64. Like I said, I remember it well, everything about it, how I ran, how it felt, everything. I was in such good shape that I simply walked off the track, not even winded. It was controlled fury. I knew exactly what I could do and how to do it. Cold as ice, just get it done.
I bring it up merely for contrast. I knew everything about my body back then, what performances felt like, what I was capable of. I had every confidence in the world. That was the last 200m I ran of any importance; almost three years ago. That is, until yesterday.
To say that I was nervous about the meet would be an understatement, like telling me that ice is cold and that Carrot Top sucks. My body pulled every trick in its playbook to try to convince me to bail. I woke up with a massive backache, no doubt caused by reflex sympathetic dystrophy - a condition I got much worse when I was younger, which is a nervous condition in which your body works itself up to a certain state and almost "creates" injuries. I woke up in a panic about missing my train to get to the meet, everything. I forgot to wash my singlet. My spikes haven't been changed since 2005 Nationals. I was a mess. Every step of the way I had to fight the urge to simply DNS, and fight I did. Man up, man up, man up.
Eventually, I got to the meet and it hit me all at once, all the things that I loved about meets. The teams hanging out in their tents, eating bananas and just enjoying themselves. The constant activity, runners going off, jumpers jumping and the throwers throwing. I sat myself down, watched a few heats, got a feel for the level of the competition of the meet (solid DII/DIII) and thought long and hard about whether or not I was actually going to man up and do it. What if I embarassed myself? What if I run a 27 and some kid who sees my name in a record book Googles my name and sees that? What do I do, just tell everyone that I tweak my hamstring and jogged it in?
Part of the problem was that in the back of my head, I knew that physically I wasn't ready. I've been in training for the last six months, except that I've been training for the Beer Pong and Wing Eating World Championships and not for a track meet. I put on my running shoes about two weeks ago (after having been inspired by a lot of my old DIII buddies; shout out to Aaron, Lou, Adam, Phill) and have just been running distance, getting my feet wet again and forgoing any kind of speed workouts for getting base. So yeah, I knew in the back of my head that I really had neither of those things - not even base, and certainly not enough speed. The speed that I once had, how much do I still have left? Was it training that brought it out, or is it something I always had? I didn't really remember, I couldn't separate it.
I had seeded myself at 24.00, which I thought at the time was a very confident seed. I wanted to get a decent heat that would push me right out of the gate but hopefully not totally embarass me. Like any tall guy, I had hoped for an outside lane for a wider radius around the turn; the God of sprinting (Michael Johnson) must have heard this, and I was bestowed lane 7.
After what seemed like forever, I went to go warm up, the same routine that I did back in school. Run a mile, stretch, do some drills (high knees, butt kicks, and such) and then some striders. However, as is often the case, I warmed up way too early and to make matters worse, there was some kind of timing problem where the meet got delayed 45 minutes between the Men's and Women's 400m hurdles. I briefly considered going to warm up again, but I decided instead to just pace around nervously. I started some small talk with some other athletes warming up, trying to do whatever to keep my mind off the race. Waiting, as they say, is the hardest part. Again, thoughts of bailing flashed through my mind.
Fast forward a bit (which seemed like an eternity), I'm standing above my blocks. It seemed like I waited forever, but now it's here and I'm not ready. You know it's eventually coming and when it gets there, you're still unprepared. They didn't have the standup Moyes, so I took off the left plate from the regular blocks and I'm trying to do a standup/three-point stance, and failing miserably. I haven't done any kind of starts in forever and it was already terrible to begin with, so I know it's going to be rough. These guys are going to eat me up after 40m.
My heart is racing. I feel like I'm already exhausted, but I'm not, it's just my heart beating a mile a minute. I'm trying my best not to false start, both from being totally unbalanced and awkward in the blocks, but also because I'm shaking like a drug addict. Set. Hand down. This is it. The track is warm, the feeling hits me again. I remember this, I've been here a thousand times. A smile breaks through, I'm actually here and doing it. No more bull**** semi-excuses, I manned up and I'm doing it.
The gun. I don't remember anything else, there were no conscious thoughts.
I finished 4th in my heat; I was overjoyed. Not to be kinda cold, but I beat someone, and I was very happy at that. I didn't feel like I ran very fast or hit any kind of top speed but I didn't feel super winded and to my surprise, I didn't really breakdown at the end. It was over, and I was the happiest man in the stadium. I gathered my stuff, and walked around the far side of the track to get ready to cool down. And then it hit me, again, just like I remember.
A whole lot of saliva. Coughing. Uh oh. I know it's coming. Thinking to myself, I hope those bananas don't taste too bad coming the other way...yeah. I took care of that business, and again, I had to smile to myself. Just like it always was, every race, every meet. Run until I puke. I'm probably the only guy in the track world who could make himself puke from the High Jump.
After I gathered myself, I slowly made my way over to the result postings. And again, the waiting. I tried to guess what I had run, based solely on what it felt like and what I remember feeling like a few years back. I finished 4th in my heat, which was great, but again, I was out of shape, nowhere near top speed, and my start would have made baby Maurice Greene cry. I thought, and waited. Paced around, and waited. Listened to Led Zeppelin, and waited. I had come up with an official guess - 24.60.
23.38. I had to look at it twice to make sure they had my name right, and that I didn't run some kind of mythical 180m dash. I could have hugged the guy who posted the times and hey, its San Francisco so that has a way higher chance of being acceptable here than just about anywhere else. Way, way faster than I could have conceivably hoped, and damn if I didn't do a little dance of joy right then and there.
Immediately I thought about the next meet. Imagine how fast I'm going to be if I train right, if I continued being dedicated! I thought it was all gone, my speed, my ability to compete, everything.
This meet, that time, everything, it was exactly what I needed. It proved to me that there's still some speed there. The talent is still there. I'm smiling ear to ear just writing this entry. Two weeks until the next meet, man, how am I going to make it until then?
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"A thousand years of timeless days, somnambulating.."
One of my favorite poems of all time is "To An Athlete Dying Young" by A.E. Housman. Of all places, I first heard it on an episode of "The Simpsons", and later looked it up to find it quite beautiful, and one of the most painfully accurate representations of the athlete.
The time you won your town the race
We chaired you through the market-place;
Man and boy stood cheering by,
And home we brought you shoulder-high.
To-day, the road all runners come,
Shoulder-high we bring you home,
And set you at your threshold down,
Townsman of a stiller town.
Smart lad, to slip betimes away
From fields were glory does not stay
And early though the laurel grows
It withers quicker than the rose.
Eyes the shady night has shut
Cannot see the record cut,
And silence sounds no worse than cheers
After earth has stopped the ears:
Now you will not swell the rout
Of lads that wore their honours out,
Runners whom renown outran
And the name died before the man.
So set, before its echoes fade,
The fleet foot on the sill of shade,
And hold to the low lintel up
The still-defended challenge-cup.
And round that early-laurelled head
Will flock to gaze the strengthless dead,
And find unwithered on its curls
The garland briefer than a girl's.
The annotations of the poem are particularly precise:
After the athlete won a race, the townspeople carried him home on their shoulders while a crowd stood by cheering. It was his glory, and it was fleeting. Today, the athlete is on the road to the cemetery in a coffin which the townspeople carry and, when they reach his final resting place, set down at the threshold of the tomb (and of eternity), where he will occupy a quiet town, the cemetery. After all human beings run the race of life, they must travel the road of death.
The athlete was smart to die young before his glory had a chance to fade as he grew older. The laurel, a symbol of Olympic victory, withers faster than the rose, a symbol of an average life span. Now that his eyes are closed forever, he cannot witness the breaking of records he set. Also, because he can no longer hear, silence and cheers "sound" the same to him.
He will not be among the multitude (swell) of athletes who lived long and were forgotten when they could no longer perform. Fame and glory outran these athletes, so their names died before their bodies. Let us set his coffin down on the threshold of the tomb before the echoes of his running feet can fade. Let us also hold up his trophy, a challenge cup, before the crossbeam atop the entrance to his tomb. The cemetery denizens (the dead) will come to look at the athlete, who is crowned with a laurel wreath as a sign of victory. They will find him and his laurel wreath well preserved, in victory forever.
Am I this cynical? No. But who among us has competed and not felt this way at some point, that their best is behind them? I think about it a lot.
Here's some real talk: I thought long and hard about registering for this meet on Saturday under a name other than Nik Bonaddio. I was, and still am quite nervous about how I'm going to perform and somewhat sadly, I don't want people to see my name attached to a performance if it's as bad as I think it might be. I imagine that sounds kind of stupid. Why the hell should I care what other people think? If I cared that much, I'd probably get a better haircut! 
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"Greetings and Salutations.."
Hi there. I'm Nik, and this is my blog. I know that kinda sounds like an awkward, impersonal hello, but I figure that if you're here, you probably either know me from my nonsensical, raving posts on the TS forums or you otherwise know me from the running world, so a friendly hello and welcome should do fine. I'm excited to get a chance to publish some of my thoughts about my life as it relates to running and life; just like everyone else, I tend to think my life is uniquely interesting and I'm more than thrilled to share it and the things I've learned along the way with all of you.
All that said, for those who have actually no idea who I am, here is a biography:
Born in Finland, raised in suburban Pittsburgh. Played a ton of sports growing up (to this day, I will say to anyone my best sport is hockey), which were the attempt of my parents to get me out of the house as I was an extremely shy, stuttering bookworm. I never really outgrew the academic side, but thanks to their efforts I came to love competition and the intangible joys of being on a team and in high school. I was a very good soccer and tennis player during my scholastic career and I looked around at a few colleges for athletic intent, but I decided that academics should be my focus for college and I attended Carnegie Mellon University, which is one of the best schools in the nation for computer science and enginering.
While at school, I became very engrossed in my coursework because I was finally getting a chance to learn and study the things that I love, the things I wanted to do as a career. I played a ton of intramural sports and got some of my competitive energy out, but other than a short stint on the football team, I didn't play anything on the varsity level. Long and short of it, I was very content. I was studying at a extremely difficult yet amazing university, and I was surrounded by culture of people very similar to me - varsity athletics never really crossed my mind.
I began running during my sophomore year, after a fraternity brother of mine - who happened to be a school record-holder in the PV - recommended that I give the intramural track meet a try. We had played intramural soccer and a few other sports together, and I suppose he noticed I had some quickness about me. I went out for the meet and won five events: 200m, 400m, 4x100m, 4x400m, and the LJ. I think I ran the 400m in 54.3, which I didn't know at the time was pretty solid for someone with no training, running in flats. After that, I met up with the Coach and it all kinda happened from there. It was very serendipitous. I found a team that was more fun and special to me than any I've ever been involved with, I found a Coach that I would have run through a brick wall for, and I found a sport and an event that somehow brought performances out of me that I never would have thought were possible.
My collegiate career ended in 2005, with PRs of 21.64, 47.36, and 3:13.18 (45.9 split) and two All-American certificates. As proud as I am of those achievements, I am even prouder that I accomplished all of those things while completing a two-year graduate school program in three back-to-back-to-back semesters and sadly, dealing with the poor health of my mother. Immediately after the season and my August graduation, I took a full-time position in Washington, DC as a software engineer and wistfully began the next phase of my life. I decided at that time to step away from track for awhile, as I had become somewhat burned out and I was excited to focus on the new opportunities for my life. I always figured that I could just come back whenever I wanted, that the fire and the talent would always still be there.
Retrospectively, I regret that decision. Fast forward to now, I am in lovely San Francisco, CA and I work as the Creative Director for a startup that some of my old friends from CMU founded. I love my job and where my career is going more than I can ever accurately describe, but like anything else, that question of "What if.." always pops in my mind.
- What if I had continued to run after I finished grad school? I was in the best shape of my life.
- What if I had decided to transfer to a DI school after I realized my talent in the 400m? I loved CMU and the coaches, but everyone can realize the difference between the facilities, etc.
- What if I had taken things more seriously? I was in a fraternity, partying my ass off on the weekends, eating the wrong things, not hitting the gym nearly as much as I should.
How do you deal with questions like that? Sadly, there are no easy answers. However, given the clarity of hindsight, I've taken a lot of time to reflect on both my running career and the choices I've made, and I've decided that I'd like to get back into competitive athletics. I'm realistic about it; I'm never going to run a 45, I'm never going to represent my country (unless it's Finland - but that is a seperate discussion), and I'm most likely never going to achieve what I achieved when I was in college. The difference is that I'm not going to define my success or failure based on times, I'm going to define it on the thrill of competition, of knowing that I prepared myself the absolute best that I could and that I gave it all that I had.
I never thought I'd say this, but I miss throwing up and passing out after running the 400m. As tired as you are, as straight up destroyed as your body feels, you just don't feel that way unless you know you've given it every ounce of energy, every single meter of that track.
My first meet is this weekend. I'm nervous and I'll be open and honest about it - I'm also unprepared and not in the best shape. However, I am only running a 200m so it won't be too difficult, just a lid-lifter to see how it feels, slowing walking into the short end of the pool. I also entered myself into the HJ because, well, I think it's fun and I need to inject some levity into a situation which is going to be extremely nervewracking to me.
Talk to you soon, and thanks for reading. Please feel free to comment.
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Recent Entries
• Life and the half-mile
• "The good advice of friends unheeded, the best of plans mislaid.."
• "I wanted water, but I'll walk through the fire if that's what it takes, to take me even higher.."
• "For me, giving up is way harder than trying.."
• "A thousand years of timeless days, somnambulating.."
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