Never did I think I would be doing this.
In 2018, I moved to Colorado to give myself a shot. One or two years, I told myself, to see if you really have what it takes to improve; to move up the US ranks and become one of the best steeplechasers in the country. To morph into a protagonist in the US running landscape. Something I couldn’t do at the high school ranks, and something I wasn’t even close to in college.
A little bit of time, I told myself. You can do it as a pro. You just need time.
Present day, it’s tough to say if I’m quite at the level I once dreamed about. No national championships, no world teams, no records.
Was that really all I wanted? To win championships, break records, make lots of money? It all sounded great, but thinking of myself at 23, there’s no way that version of me thought that was actually feasible.
I think I just wanted to belong.
Last weekend, I raced at the Credit Union Cherry Blossom 10 Miler, which also served as the USATF 10 Mile Championships in Washington, D.C. It was my first attempt at the 10 mile distance– the third race in my lifetime over 10km. I ran 47:16, placing 15th overall in the international field, and 10th in the USATF 10 Mile Champs category. My third straight top 10 finish at a U.S. Championship.
As a focused steeplechaser, moving up to a 10 mile road race against a crop of road running specialists is throwing oneself into the lion’s den. There were no inner expectations to compete for the win– I wouldn’t give 99% of these guys the time of day in a steeplechase, so don’t expect to waltz to the roads and run away with it. There’s a window where I need to execute a good steeple; June to September. Outside of that window, all I think about is how to prepare to be my best when that window comes. The roads will help.
The winter and early spring has given me the opportunity to focus on becoming as strong of a runner as possible. Throw yourself to the wolves in training– running workouts one week with Reed Fischer, who’s training to finish in the top 10 at the Boston Marathon; the next week ripping a track workout with Drew Hunter, training to run under a 13 minute 5k. Even five years ago, this kind of training would not have been possible. It’s not about fighting for the win in the US 10 Mile Championship, but about how well I can compete out of my element.
I knew the race would feel like a time trial from the gun, and couldn’t have been more spot on. A 4:23 first mile set the tone for the first 5k split in 14:01.
My 5k track PB in college was 14:13.
By that point, I knew it would be wise to settle in– falling off the front pack, but had a 15 second gap to the next few guys behind me. For the remaining seven miles, I was alone.
“Should I consider myself among the top of the sport? Maybe just in the US? I know I’m good, but do I belong with those top guys? Can I really consider myself competitive if I fall off less than a third into the race?”
From 5k to 5 miles, I didn’t think about anything else other than dropping out. Not a positive thought went through my head, as I was paying the iron price for my early aggressiveness. It seemed that not a soul was dropping off of the front pack ahead of me, and I was caught in racing limbo. I hit a rhythm once I hit the halfway point, and started thinking about cleaning up potential carnage ahead of me in the last 5k of the race.
Only one guy came back. The lion’s den is unforgiving. These guys are incredible runners. They weren’t coming back.
After races like these, I can’t help but think I have a talent threshold, and it’s never going to be as high as the guys who finished ahead of me. I consider myself a late bloomer to the sport; I started running year-round my junior year of high school, so I associate my “running age” as two years younger than my actual age. Thinking critically though, it’s hard to wrap my head around the idea that I might never be as good as these guys. I didn’t run that fast in high school, I didn’t qualify for NCAAs in college, and I made my first Olympic Trials at 29 years old. The level I’ve reached as a runner puts me in competition with guys that were All-Americans and NCAA Champions. It’s hard not to reflect on the past when I look at who’s next on the list to rise up to. It’s tough to decide whether I belong.
Among these doubts, though, comes optimism.
I’ve improved dramatically since college. It feels like I’m getting better every week.
What I lack in talent, I make up for in resilience. I can train at a high level, and stay healthy through it all.
I’ve become nothing but consistent. Training, racing, my mindset; I have a clear focus with where I am, where I want to be, and how to get there.
Your talent is your ability to keep getting better and better. Every single year.
The next three and half years is focused on one objective: qualify for the 2028 LA Olympics in the steeplechase. These road races will only help get me there. Now that the 2028 Olympic cycle lies ahead, I continue to tell myself:
I’m 29, but feel 27.
I have four more good years where I know there’s room for multiple levels of progress.
I’m in a specialized event, the steeplechase, that doesn’t run year-round: I have from June to September every year to show my chops.
The rest of the year is dedicated to preparing myself for championship racing.
I pick my race schedule to prepare myself as best as I can for those championship races
Running long road races will not only force me to do strength work that is crucial to my steeple success, but it will challenge me in ways I have not been challenged before.
It’s not about winning these off-season races, it’s about getting better so you can win the in season races.
Do what excites you.
To hell with indoors and BU, I can’t be fucked to go back to Boston and spend $1000 on a trip to run a pointless, shit 5k (pardon my French)
Steeple in the spring and summer, big boy races on the roads in the fall and winter.
The formula.
This weekend got me a little bit closer to my goal.
I belong.
Thanks for following.
Joey
I deeply relate to the complex idea of "belonging" that you described.
Maybe belonging to this world of elite runners, to that status, is what matters most — more than the victories, more than the times, which are really just a reinforcement of that sense of belonging.
It’s the same feeling I experience every day as I try to be a pro athlete chasing my dreams.
🫀
You are a fantastic writer. Thank you for sharing yourself so generously with us.