The U.S. Cross Country Championships

Well, I have to be honest and say that I don’t really know what to write in this blog entry tonight.  I have tried writing various things, each time starting with a word, turning it into a sentence, extending it to a paragraph and evolving it into a cohesive thought, but each time I fail to capture the mood, the feeling, the emotion that I am trying to convey and it all seems mute, void, distant, fake.  I’ll admit up front that I have trouble transmitting, revealing, disclosing that which goes on within my head.  It always seems like a jumble to me anyhow.  But for tonight, as I sit here, tapping away at the keyboard on my computer, reflecting upon the weekend, on my most recent race, my first race of 2011, my longest race to date, my first Cross Country Championships, I will offer you the only way that I can think for you to get a faint glimpse into my being, my head, my thoughts, and that is through an unedited babble.  A ramble, an uncontrolled stream of thought vomiting forth my personal contemplation of my experience.  San Diego.  12km, six laps around a two kilometer loop: a pathetic excuse for a cross country course, snaking its way through the small confines of Mission Bay Park, side stepping playgrounds, monkey bars, rolling over concrete walkways, void of hills or terrain yet eerily canted to one side, tree branches hanging low around every turn- brushing against you as you beg for traction on the soften grass.  The race: quick off the line, move to the front, position, settle Ben, its a long race.  Look around, everyone is there.  Wait, the guy leading it... he is barefoot?  Really?  Focus Ben.  First two laps down.  Easy.  Two more laps down, field is getting smaller.  Pace beginning to pick up, surges.  First strong surge of pace, I am waiting for it, yet somehow it catches me off guard.  I can’t be out of the race already can I?  No, pick up the pace, reel them back in.  Good.  Back with the pack.  Pace slows, bunches together, picks up, strings out.  Don’t let the elastic snap.  Snap.  Tired.  Move stupid legs, go after them.  Finish.  Tired.  Fifth.  Disappointment.  Relieved.  Top six qualify to represent the U.S. at the World Championships in Punta Umbria, Spain.  Punta Umbria.  First national team.  First World Championship team.  Excited.  Happy.  Thankful.  Reporters, awards, interviews, congratulations, I just need to think- cool down, solitude, peace.  Starting to feel better.  Sitting on hotel bed, still in running clothes, face caked with dried sweat, thirsty, tired.  Sleep.  Wake up, run.  Shake out the legs, mull over the race, what went wrong, where did I lose?  How to improve?  What did I learn?  Move on.  Time to start training for the next race.  I can do better, I will do better.  Smile.

Until next time, the raw trueth

Ben