#95 Again to Carthage

At some point in my college running career I read my friend Ryan's copy of Once a Runner. This novel, written by John L. Parker, Jr., follows a collegiate miler named Quenton Cassidy, who develops into an Olympic-level talent. I have no idea what it's like to be that good of a runner, but the beginning of the book talked about the day in and day out routine of training, the highs and lows of working to get better bit by bit. I understood that, and I resonated with the descriptions of being part of a team, sharing the hard work and the commitment and all the crazy, goofy nonsense that comes from spending probably too much time together.

Over the past couple weeks I read Again to Carthage, the sequel to Once a Runner. This book follows Quenton Cassidy's attempt to qualify for the Olympics in the marathon years after his college days. I've spent this summer doing a little training to get in shape to run a respectable 10k, so I could relate a bit to the struggle of getting back to running hard as well as the familiarity and joy of settling into a routine and improving once more. But what really struck me about Again to Carthage were the scenes were Cassidy reminisced about the good old days of running with his teammates. As Parker writes, even when you're in good shape, it takes a while to run 6-10 miles, as my teammates and I did most days in college. You get to know each other really well over all those miles, and then you add in all the trips to meets and all the other times we hung out because we'd become such good friends through all that running. We became brothers.

There are times I wish I could run the kind of times I ran in college. Races didn't always go well, but when they did, they were electrifying. Sometimes I miss the training, too. I hated it at times, but there's something deeply satisfying about getting better and better and better. But what I really miss about my college running days is my teammates. I run alone now. For the most part I like it. I get some good thinking done on my runs. But being part of a team was so much better. We had a pack of guys throughout the week, and even on the weekend I could grab at least one of my teammates to keep me company. We'd talk about anything and everything because we had the time. We shared dreams and worries and so many experiences. I miss that. A lot. But at least the memories are there. I had seven seasons where I got to make best friends while doing something I loved. I won't forget that.

Grace and peace,
BMH