The Twilight of A Parallel Arc

Introduction

Life has an interesting way of drawing life arcs and turning them into full circles. One never knows where life will take them. I certainly didn’t. To have two different track seasons unfold 10 years apart in almost parallel trajectories was something I never would have predicted. Perhaps laying out a little bit of my running history will highlight the circles and arcs observed over the years, and hopefully there aren’t too many unnecessary tangents

Pre-2010

My start in running came rather unceremoniously, getting dragged out by my older brother in the summer before middle school to run laps around my neighborhood street. I didn’t truly begin enjoying running though until joining track and field in 6th grade, when I discovered the 800 meter run. In the 6th grade, my friends and I were all inspired by our friend Yoshi Tanaka, the proud owner of a 5:20 for 1600. I was inspired to try and run as fast as him one day, but had no idea that I would do so in only a year’s time to set a grade level school record. With a few (at the time but now broken) school records and medals earned through the rest of middle school, the success on the track made me excited for what was to come.

Spring 2010

My first full taste of high school track and field, and I absolutely loved it. It was an escape from school work, a place to mingle with friends, and the pursuit of the next step of a sport that had become a pivotal part of my life. Freshman year was highlighted with massive then-personal bests with 4:43 for 1600 and a 2:04 for the 800, as well as qualification to the California Central Coast Section track championships, a feat rarely achieved by freshmen with the high level of competitiveness that comes with California high school track. With the jumps I made this first year, I thought it would all be smooth sailing.

Fall 2010 - Fall 2012
Boy, was I wrong about the smooth sailings. The next two years of running was filled with roller coasters including both success and failures. There were some successes with qualifying to the Central Coast Section cross country championships, but track seasons were plagued with both injuries and negative self-induced expectations to run well. Even the successes weren’t fully appreciated by myself at the time and I was constantly disappointed in myself.

The low point of my high school running career arrived in the fall of 2012 when I sustained a hip injury that caused my left hip joint capsule to fill with swelling. At this point, walking was painful, and running was excruciating. I could run no more than a quarter mile before I was reduced to tears, and  even following my mother’s advice to do full rest didn’t help. Days turned into weeks, and there seemed to be no end in sight for going back to running.

Winter-Spring 2013

I entered the start of my final track season in high school with my hip injury still ongoing and not knowing if I could even run track. I don’t remember the day one of my doctors told me that I might not be able to run again because of my injury. I do remember crying myself to sleep that night. To be told that I might not be able to do the sport that I loved for the rest of my life when I still had my whole life ahead of me was heart wrenching.

As I grinded out hours of rehabilitation and cross training, I slowly regained strength and fitness. I wasn’t attached to running a certain time or qualification to a championship meet anymore. All I wanted at this point was to have one last track season, one last time around the 400 meter oval before hanging up the spikes and calling it.

With the combined guidance from a physical therapist and a lot of work, I found myself first returning to running, then returning to training, and then finally starting to compete, opening the season late March with a 4:45 for 1600. A few weeks later, I ran a then-lifetime best of 4:40, and began to believe that maybe, just maybe, I could qualify for the California Central Coast Section track championships and make it back one last time.

On a May afternoon at my high school’s league championships, with perfect race conditions and a smart race plan, I ran the race of a lifetime with a then-personal best of 4:34 for 1600. With that race, I secured one of the last qualifying spots into the championships. To this day, if I had to rank mile/1500 equivalent races by how good I felt during the race, this race still ranks in the top 5 all time. It was the perfect end to a high school career, and opened up the doors for me to compete in college.

Winter-Spring 2023

10 years after that storybook-like high school track season, I found myself just starting to run consistently again after spinal surgery last summer. Once again, I found myself in the position of trying to come back into running after a major injury. I had no clue what my body could or could not do in a mile race, I had not raced on the track in 4 years, and did not know if there was a cap to the amount of running that my back could handle. One positive I did have going into this season was that I was already healthy enough to run, even if I was running nowhere near the mileage I had run pre-back injury.

My first track race of the season was a 1600 at a high school/all comer’s meet, a fitting way to open the track season. With nothing but an aerobic base, willpower, and a fraction of my previous leg speed, I opened the season running 4:56 for 1600. A few weeks later with a little more fitness under my belt, I clocked a season best of 4:29 for 1500, equivalent to a 4:50 for the full mile. A few weeks after that at the end of March, I clocked a 4:45 for the full mile. By this point in the season, I was realizing that my progress point this season was practically identical to the start point of my track season 10 years prior. The trajectory of my miler fitness this season was skyrocketing, courtesy of staying patient and healthy as well as receiving thoughtful training programming from my coach. I started to wonder if my trajectory would parallel my high school trajectory in the same way fitness-wise.

A few weeks after at the Beach Invitational, I clocked a 4:19 for 1500, which comes out to running at 4:38 mile pace. My racing results were continuing to follow a very similar trajectory to my last high school season. As strong as I had felt during this race, I knew that there was a little more in the tank, that my body just needed a few final pieces of VO2 work to sharpen the racing fitness. There was one last 1500 meter race lined up to test the peak fitness.

May 06, 2023

The Portland Twilight Meet. The final race of the season at a meet established for collegiate runners to have one last chance at clocking a fast time or qualifying for championships. There would be no pursuit of championship qualification for me this time around though, just a working adult still living out his childhood sport.

Before the race, as I was warming up and changing into spikes, a particular YouTube video of Olympian Michael Stember racing in high school with “Enter Sandman” playing as background soundtrack popped up in my head. I thought to myself, “It’d be so cool if Enter Sandman played during my race.” Anyone who has listened to “Enter Sandman” and understands the vibe knows what I’m talking about. As I finished my warm up and prepared to race, I just soaked in the atmosphere, the music, the good racing conditions of just a tad over 60 degrees with a mix of sun and clouds. I also said a quick hello to my former college teammate and roommate who had stopped by to watch my race. In the stands was also one of my former high school teammates, who had run with me all 4 years including my last year.

The music paused for a couple minutes for the starter to give his instructions. In what is probably the first time this has ever happened in my running career (and the first time my coach has ever seen this), of the 13 people entered to race my heat, only 6 of us showed up to run. The starter gave his instructions to us, and then we awaited his start commands.

“On your marks.” The starter was quiet, but I was keyed in as my coach had given me a heads-up to be mindful.

The gun went off. I got out fast with four of the other guys getting out much faster. The music started up again 50 meters into the race. “Enter Sandman” began to blast on the speakers. What an absolute prime start to setting the mood of the race.

I latched on to one runner, and the three leaders aggressively pulled away running right around 4:00 mile pace. A strategically questionable start considering nobody in my field was fit enough to run under 4:25 for a mile. My race within the race became a two person competition, a college runner setting the pace for me as I latched on and dialed myself in.

As I circled the track, each 100 - 200 meters was incrementally more painful as it always is. With 400 meters to run, I had a glance at the time and knew I was on pace to run a season best, but only if I continued to commit the whole way with the last lap. The last 400 meters are always an oxygen-deprived sufferfest, and this race was no exception.

I crossed the finish with a time of 4:16 for 1500, which comes out to 4:35 mile pace. A practically identical performance to my peak race performance 10 years prior at the end of a practically identical fitness progression through the last few months. What a way to round out the last decade of competitive running.

Conclusion

When I embarked on a track season at the start of 2023, I had no idea what my body would let me do. All I knew was that I was going to attempt my first full track season in 4 years, and the first track season since spinal surgery. I had ended my last track season in 2019 in Portland at this very track. Going back again for this season’s final race was special. Running a 1500 season’s best and equivalent performance to my best 1600 time in high school after following a parallel arc of coming back from a major injury was special. Sharing the race with support from friends from the high school, college and post-college eras of my time running was special. Having all of these pieces come together in one weekend was nothing short of precious.

As I approach the twilight of my 20’s, I’ve spent a lot more time thinking about the uniqueness of my current age: young enough to still dream of running fast, old enough to know that I can’t do this forever. Even now, not everyone in my life currently can still say that they are fit enough to run as fast as they did in high school. There will be a time when I will have to shelf my track spikes one last time, never to step on a track again to race. I’m not sure when that time will come, nor can I predict it. This season isn’t the end of my competitive running career yet by any means. Knowing that my career will eventually end, I have set myself a goal of not having any regrets with my running career post-surgery, on and off the track. Until then, we’ll keep having fun and enjoying the experience of training and racing.

Thanks to the past and current teammates, friends and family for supporting me over the span of my running career, and for helping me to dream for another track season. Cheers to continuing to chase dreams, secure the bread, and eat enough food to feed a small village.