....there's a great sports book that I read a couple years ago, and read various parts of it from time to time. It's called 7 seconds or less, and it details the 05-06 Phoenix Suns year. What I took away from the book is: that after Carmelo went to NY D'Antoni was a dead man walking, because he can't deal with the egos of his players, never ever mess with Raja Bell, and that there was a reason that this team (of it's era) will be remembered more than the team that actually won the title that year.
I think what will cause basketball fans to remember this team (or the Suns teams in general) is that they had something that very few teams had: the cool factor. That what they did on the basketball court was cool. They made the game entertaining. They played in the 100s. They were a fast break, high octane offensive team, that gave a general "eh" difference to defense. They were lead by an individual who really was the antithesis of a star player. He a short, long haired Canadian player who was anti-war, healthy eating, pass first player. But the Suns were cool. The same way Prefontaine was cool. Sure they never won anything thing, but that's not what matters.
It was December of 05 and I had tickets to see the Suns play the Bobcats. Now normally a team like the Suns would play on a low gear, seeing that they had this game in the bag, but what I noticed all the way up in upper deck was something that I had read about. It seemed that Nash had infected the team with passing, the team loved to pass, and get their teammate the right pass to set up a shot. What I saw that December night was a team that loved playing together, loved being around each other, and loved playing the game. They beat up a hapless opponent but at the same time they didn't take them lightly.
I go back to the book to reconsider the line that gets repeated at the beginning and the end of the book. Where Nash is asked, do you have anything. It repeated multiple times. On my way back to DC, I started to ask myself the same question. Do you have anything?
* * *
Day 1
I woke up around 4:40 filled with anxiety. I couldn't go back to sleep, due to stomach discomfort. I was finally able to go out for a run around 5:30. It was humid, but I felt good. After that I did my core, ate some breakfast, and finished packing. I was able to leave at the time I wanted to, seven, and was on my way.
The nine hour drive really was painless (aside from the traffic in Vermont). I had never really been to this part of the country, but was simply amazed by how beautiful it was. It was fantastic. Upstate New York was amazing by Lake George.
I got to my hotel and checked in. I went to my room and noticed that it hadn't been clean from the previous occupier (a harbinger of things to come). I went back to the front desk. I could have been upset, but knew that this was a small deal, and I shouldn't chew out the people at the front desk because they probably had no idea that this had happened. I politely told them that my room wasn't clean, didn't ask for another room (I would have waited while they cleaned it up), and they gave me another room. They wanted to comp me for a drink. I told them I don't really drink. They began to write me a meal ticket for breakfast, when I asked for dinner, and got it. My new room was clean.
After unpacking a bit I went to the expo, which turned out to be a half mile away, and would have been easier to walk to instead of driving. I saw the Kahru can and wondered if Jordan was there. I walked to the second floor, turned into the room, and on the right was Jordan. We talked for ten minutes about my training, hopes for the race, the Charlotte marathon, and performances in Charlotte races. After that I got my bib and left.
I returned to my hotel to eat. It was standard hotel restaurant food. I got back to my room and finished unpacking. I got a call from a principal from one of the schools I'm applying to. I'm not going to disclose the nature of the conversation. But it was good and my laid back, patient style is a plus. I ended up watched Inglorious Basterds on TNT*.
*(I think this was the second time I've seen this movie so I was able to see some things I liked, some things I didn't like, and was able to get some more info on things that didn't make sense. First what I don't like: Eli Roth. I really can't believe Tarintino cast him in this movie. I really can't believe that he actually like's Roth's movies. Now I know Tarintino is a big movie fan, but don't tell me you are a fan of the genre that Roth popularized. Because that's something that just came about. They don't give old styles of movies a nickname all of a sudden. And really Quentin you could do so much better than liking the guy who made Hostel. The problem with Kill Bill was the over the top violence, which caused the dialogue to take a back seat. So in Basterds I had to see Eli Roth's face grinning. I know for Tarintino's next movie has some hope seeing that Leo is in it.
The other thing that I never really got and had to say was poor character development was the nature of Fredrick Zoller. Who in the span of three days goes from being a humble, non glory seeking man to what he becomes at the end of the movie. When I first saw it, I couldn't believe it. It literally made no sense that he would force himself on Shosanna. He was something that came out of left field, something that the character had resisted and not acted on, and NOW he was doing it. But after watching the movie again, I was able to see a little bit of his character development and the small shift.)
I didn't stop to take pictures during the day. I could have stopped while I was driving, because believe me there were many instances where I could have. There are pictures in my head from what I saw. Pictures can't take me back to the time and mental state of how I was feeling. I'll always have the memories, and that's what matters most.
* * *
It was right when I was driving home. Starting the journey back, when it hit me. It was some powerful stuff. I couldn't really believe it, but it made so much sense. This race didn't turn into what I had hoped for, instead it was the complete opposite. Usually when I write one of these recaps I have the foundation already laid out, I just need to fill it in with all the details. And what I was going to write was based on my own self confidence of what was going to happen. But it didn't happen. Instead as I was driving it hit me.
...it's a story I've told before. Maybe in another blog post. It started all the way back in August 2008. I thought about all the main details while I was driving out of Vermont. And I knew that this was fitting. There was a runner on my team named Drew. He came to his first practice at Old Bell. We were waiting on the other runners to come, when he asked me "when is the coach going to come". To which
I am the coach.
I didn't really mind the question at all. We got to run the warm up. Over the course of our run I asked him what his longest run was. He told me three miles. Well you're going to run more than that today. The warm up is two miles. We'll run the 5k course, and then two mile back for a total of seven. We ended that run on a hot day, I had strep throat and was looking more and more like Casper as the run ended. We started to talk about the Bourne Ultimatum, I was cordial and talked about it, what I really wanted to do was lie down in the shade and pass out.
It was the Wendy's meet that year. It was an SAT day. So I had three out of the top seven out. I put Drew in the race. I wasn't really expecting much. He hadn't been in the school the day before, because he was sick. But he was at the meet and I told him he was running in the Varsity race. He said ok and that was that. I could tell from the first mile he was not well and in fact should have dropped out. I knew that this was not going to be a good day for him. He ended up finishing seventh from last place. He came over to me and started to apologize. The funny thing that I noticed about all my runners was that when they would have a bad race, is that they would apologize to me, that with them running poorly somehow it like they had let me down in a way that couldn't be described. I told Drew not to worry, and some other coachly wisdom that I can't remember. I do remember the guy that finished after Drew said something to effect that what I said was the nicest thing he had heard.
Track came and Drew told me he ran the 800 well. Ok sure thing run it. He was running in the 2:12-2:14s. So I decided at one meet to give him a break in the 800 (or more like you ain't no 800 runner running in the 2:10s) and have him run the 3200 with the other three freshman runners and being paced by a senior. He ran the 1600 earlier in 5:02 or 03, so I wanted to see what would happen. He had never ran a deuce before so I figured I can see what he's got. The senior, Jake, paced them well, and Drew was always the last freshman out of the four on each lap. They all hung together, but Drew was bringing up the rear. And on the last lap, Drew was the last guy with that group. I made my way to the finish line to get results. It was dark and I wasn't wearing glasses so I had no idea what was happening on the final turn. Jake told me that he wasn't going to lose to the freshman, and then all of a sudden he felt a wave of sweat drop on his right arm. It was Drew he had passed all the guys and was the top 3200 runner at the meet. I believe the thought going through my head was some sort of stunned profanity. The finishing time was around 11:05. I went over to him and gave a muted jubilation. I think I told him he wasn't an 800 runner anymore. I was very pleased though.
The last regional I was at was in 09. The 4x8 went off. I was nervous. I put John and Dean at the beginning. Two guys that ran 2:01 and then had Matthew and Drew finish. Two guys that ran 2:09. Drew got the baton and we were in fourth. The last lap went and I knew that it would be close but that we would hold on. Then on the last turn I knew it was not going to be good. It could go either way. And it did. He got passed with five meters left. Fifth place. No states. There I was. Standing outside the track. Since I wasn't a meet official I couldn't go on the track or the infield. But I didn't really care about the rules. I went on the infield. When you see someone crying because they tried their best that sucks. That's the part of coaching that sucks. Seeing that. I put my arm around him and talked to Drew. I told him that it didn't matter, that I trusted him with that spot and would have done it again and again. Nobody was mad at him.
Then things happened. The next year at track regionals, it was the same exact scenario again. Drew anchoring. The team in fourth place. I was in the stands watching. I saw what happened. This time he got it. He barely got it. And then there was Wendy's his senior year. He went from seventh to last as a Freshman to third place in the race as a Senior. I thought about the journey in the car.
...whenever I'm asked about missing it. Someone always asks you don't need it. (Move on) It's better that your not doing it. But really the people that tell me it are the people who don't get it. It's tough to explain what exactly I miss. Words can't really express it. It's a feeling. A special bond. A thing that only belongs to the people that were on that team. It's something Bill Russell tried to explain one time. It was something that was special to a selective group of people, and those that weren't part of it wont get it. That's how I feel. You can't explain what each particular team gave me. What each particular season produced. It was special. But only to those that were apart of it. That's what I miss.
I thought about Drew and I thought about how I reacted during the race. I thought about coaching. That four years ago is a long time. It's time when you can reflect on things. And I thought about how Catholic did in track, and that's when you think what you always knew and maybe said but nobody believed you, but now you know it to be true. In the show Lost, there was the defined leader, Jack. But was he really the leader, he didn't want to be one, and he made some choices that really hindered the group. At the end of the show there was Sawyer, the one that nobody really thought was the leader, but at the end you kinda got the feeling of what if. What if he was leading from the beginning? Would things be different? That's when I got to thinking. Reluctant leader. Forced into a position. Another person leading to greater things. I knew it to be true. I just hope others saw it for what it was. And that's what I got to thinking. That maybe when I start to think about things. Did I really do a good job. My managerial style was more
Harmon-esque. That it was petulant to threatened to quit five times a season. That I knew all there was to know. That's what made things more kismet when the hammer was dropped.
* * *
Day 2
I received a text from Jordan around one in the morning. It was about meeting up for a run. I kinda didn't know what to expect. He was texting me late at night and wasn't sure if he was going to remember it. But I woke up and sent him a text. He replied back and we ran from my hotel for four miles that took us through parts of the university. I was a nice campus to run through and we found a nice path to run on.
After that I ate some breakfast, did some work, then took a nap. After waking up I drove down to the lake area and the big hill that makes up mile fifteen. Even though I am nine hours away from DC, there was still those that were speaking a language that was not English around me. This time the language was French. I forgot how close I was to Quebec. The people in the room next to me spoke French. I ate a burrito and then walked through a farmers market. I drove back to my hotel and walked to the expo to talk to Jordan.
After that I really didn't do that much. Napped again. Watched NCIS (which by the way a) puzzles me that Maryland, Virginia, and DC look so much like Southern California and b) I can't get it past my head that the star of the most watched show in America is called Leroy Jethro Gibbs). Then ate some dinner at an Italian restaurant near my hotel. To sum up the day, it was relaxing and stress free.
* * *
Do you have anything?
The finish line. I was walking around. I was in the mix of a throng of people. It wasn't until I did the unofficial wikipedia search that Burlington had a metro population of 100k+. The city had a lot of visitors for the weekend. There I was walking around, by myself. Sometimes you lay in the bed you made.
This was suppose to be the beginning and the middle of the end of the recap. This was the part that I was planning on writing. But things got in the way. I moved to a city where I didn't know anyone. To take a job that I really didn't know how to do. A month into the move was my birthday. My parents asked my sister to take me out to dinner. It was a nice thing to do. But it really sent a message. Were pretty sure that Brian doesn't have any friends right now, and we want him to celebrate his birthday with someone. They even told my sister that they would pay her back.
I was sitting in the car with some people that I work with. I was doing some of my stand up. I got someone to laugh so hard that they started to cry. A rough re-telling of the account goes here:
so my hair stylist ask me what I do in DC. I tell her that I have enough time to work and run. That's about it. I really am to tired to go out on Friday, and want to relax over the weekend. She then tells me that I should place a craiglist ad that says LONELY RUNNER GUY NEEDS SOMEONE TO RUN WITH. I mean yeah I didn't have any friends but I not that much of a loser. Then my friends tell me not to worry, things will pick up for me. Sure your not the social type, but it gets better. I mean when I first met you, I wasn't so sure. But after a while you were pretty cool. You'll eventually get some friends. Trust me.
Then there is the ultimate irony. The jobs that I have been interviewing for seem to be going well. I guess it's because I can really communicate well with other people. That when the time comes that I can conduct myself in a manner and sound articulate and give thoughtful opinions. And when I was coaching I was able to respond to the different emotions and actions of my runners and was able to smooth them. And that in kind is the good and then there is the bad. Like having to ask the person who you just told that I really don't like you anymore if they could help you get your DVD out of the DVD player (but you told your friends it was Season One of the Wire, they would have to understand!). That sort of awkwardness didn't seem to faze me. Or going to a concert and seeing another former flame, having her point you out to her friend and then stick her finger down her throat and laughing at you. All the while you were there by yourself on a Saturday night. And you spent the time in between sets watching the Marlins beat the Yankees in the World Series. Or the time you went to a party and had someone you use to know announce multiple times that the guy she was with now was better than the last one, and knowing that you were the last one. And that you didn't leave after the first time it was said or even the fifth time.
That at times in your life every single member of your family has called you the same word (rhymes with bawl-hole). That I've said things to my family members that were sarcastically hurtful and disrespectful. That out of the four siblings I have, maybe one is positive. That I wasn't even invited to my sisters birthday dinner, even though we live in the same town. Even though it is assumed that I wasn't going to be doing anything.
And yet it's all by choice. Sure theres the ways that you could say I'll do this or I'll do that. I'll make a resolution. But I know that's not going to change anything. I've been to parties where I've been up, I've been to parties where I've been down. How am I going to be, how am I going to interact. Do I just pretend that what is happening is something that I'm going to care about? It's get me thinking.
...and that's the initial draft. The way this recap was going to start. Mix it in the middle and finish it in the end. God does that sound depressing. Yeah all those things happened. The concert part. Yep that happened. Or as I like to say it was either my ex girlfriend, which is her lost. She just found out I was ugly, I've always known that. The part getting back the DVD, that was always in the back of my mind. When I went running with a friend earlier that day I told him what was going down, and asked him to get the DVD's back and he was like nope, not gonna do it. So yeah I guess I could write about how tough it's been. Sure almost all of the things that I put here were of my own doing. Yeah I've alienate a lot of people with my words and actions. And sure I've lost a lot of friends along the way (but surprisingly enough-still facebook friends!).
But at the same time I think of the good. All the people that I helped out along the way. Those that enjoyed cross country and track (I hope there were some). The wins that we got (so what if I peaked as a coach when I was 25!). And that I have to continue to carry on as the days get on. And I think back to that same girl who stuck her finger down her throat towards me, what she said to me all the back on a nice Spring day in Raleigh "that I act so mean because I don't want anyone to see how nice I really am". And in a way that's probably right. I think about throwing the frisbee with her in May in Pullen Park (always a hippie!), going to see Good Charlotte when they were an opening band and up and coming, having her throw up on me (good times!). Then I think back to everything that happened in Charlotte. That if I hadn't had to step down in coaching then I wouldn't have meet all the people that I did. No seriously I wouldn't have. I wouldn't have had time. I would have been concerned about coaching. Not really having any time to go out and race on my own. So I take the good out of that. I got to meet some cool people, do some cool things, and hopefully entertained some people with my antics.
And that's what I thought as I was driving back to DC. I figured that hey this race wasn't the best. It wasn't what I was hoping for, but it wasn't the worst. Four years ago at Boston I bombed. I didn't run all that bad, but it was bad for me. And that was it. I was depressed after the race. I didn't know how to handle it. I didn't run another marathon for three and half years. I just blocked it out. I quit. I didn't enjoy the race and always have a poor taste in my mouth. But now I've matured. I've kinda gotten over it. Sure slowly walking up a hill to my car, with a mustache and sideburns, hoping against hope that my stomach doesn't churn it in over time is on one end of the spectrum while exit pursued by bear is on the other end of making an exit**.
**(And that is from the worst Shakespearean play that I have read The Winter's Tale. Shakespeare is credited with a lot of things, he did create mailing it in for this play.)
I was driving home. I was in Baltimore and it was pouring. I kinda laughed and thought back to when I left campus after my sophomore year. A truly crappy year. An awful year. Right past Chapel Hill it started to pour and I thought, well the heavens are giving me a message. That's how I feel right now. But on that Sunday when I was driving I thought back to that feeling and didn't react the same way. I turned my windshield wipers on another degree and drove.
* * *
Day 3
I think back to the race, I immediately had this thought. You know when you are watching a sports event, basketball is the best example. When a team is absolutely on fire. Not missing a shot or shooting a percentage that is 70% or higher. That it's really an anomaly. That this team is at it's absolute apex, that they will come back to Earth and hit their average. Of course there is the exact opposite of a shooting percentage that high, it's one that low. It reminded me of Butler in it's second championship game. They shot 17% or something like that for the entire game. It's one of those things that happens and you just have to move on. And it makes it worse that it happened in the most important game. But things like that happen. Their flukes. I'm sure Butler never shot like that in the year before and probably didn't shot like that this year. It's something that happens, you shake your head and move on. And that's what sums up the race. Things that have never happened to me in a race before happened. Statistically speaking the odds of this happening again are slim. And it's a total bummer that it happened in race where I appeared to be fit (?).
But factor in: that my iron stomach acted up not once, but twice. That my shoes chaffed my Achilles so bad that they bled profusely, that I got to the point where I didn't know if I could finish only because I was afraid I might pass out, that unbeknowest to me my underarms chaffed to the point of bleeding and my oblique or left side chaffed to the point of bleeding all over my singlet (what was weird is I didn't know this till this morning. My singlet gives the appearance that I was stabbed in my side during the race, I checked my body to see if there were any cuts-no. I checked my hands for any marks of the stigmata-no. I'll put up a picture. But it looks as if I was in a fight in the race and didn't do so well).
My stomach. I knew at 18 this was going to be a probably and that's when the wind got taken out of my sail. I was really wondering what would happen if I asked one of the people who were in front of their house if I could use their bathroom to pop. I didn't. Right before 20 I knew I had to go. I was in the woods. Stopped and went off the trail. It slide out. I didn't round two so I figured it was a one time deal. But I knew that it wasn't. I took my time to ease into the race. But right before 23 I stopped at the porta john, waited for a women to leave it and then did my business. It wasn't that I was in pain, it was more like time to do this-do it now. I did have cramps during the race, but would do breathing techniques and burping and it would go away. The only thing that I could chalk it up to, is the gels I took with warm gatorade.
The shoes. The old girls. The T-6's. I told Jordan that was what I was racing in. It's a hot tub time machine. I've ran in those shoes since 08. I know I've pushed the limit on those shoes. They should have been put out to pasture after Thunder Road, but I knew I could coax another race after them. But I guess it was time, they were telling me the road is over. All the things that I've been with them. But never have they done anything like this. I felt it on one leg, the cutting and knew that they were rubbing my feet. Then the other leg. Really both legs. I didn't know how bad it was until I got down. Blood running down the legs. Big cuts in my legs. That was the most painful injury I got from the race. Not the sore muscles. It made walking hard with shoes on. I guess maybe due to the heat and water that got on them, they expanded and cut my feet, but I don't know.
The chaffing. Underarms I kinda figured that. The left one was raw. My shorts inflicted pain as well. But the side. I really had no idea that chaffed. I mean it didn't hurt. It reminded me of the time I ran in Wilmington with Lamperski and Jordan and they mentioned that I had a huge blood stain on the back of my shirt. I didn't have any cuts. I guess it just chaffed and I didn't know it.
I knew when the race started it was going to be a challenge. I never felt that great to start out. In a 5k I could rely on a bag of tricks to pull me through. That I could do a good job of faking it. In a marathon I just had to relax and tell myself that things would smooth out and I would get in a rhythm. And for the most part they did.
I woke up and the sun was rising. Did I oversleep? No the sun rises around 5am in Burlington. I was anxious in the morning. Ate some breakfast and then got to a parking place and walked to the start, which was Battery Park. It was cool to chill and just relax. I went to the bathroom and checked my bag. I had my gels this time. I got to the start line and did some slight jogs in the straight away. I was really nervous. I don't know why. Maybe that might have contributed to it. I'm not sure. But things went off. I relaxed.
Here are some initial splits:
6:21
6:01
6:04
5:57
6:02
6:04
6:01
6:01
6:08
6:05
5:58
6:09
6:08
My half was right around where I was in Charlotte. Now mile 16 had a four hundred meter hill. And I just took it like I did with everything. I didn't go crazy. Heck there were plenty of fans out there. It reminded me of the tour when they go up the mountains.
6:06
6:13
6:23 (elevation gain 150 feet)
6:17
6:17
6:39 (and where the wheels fall off)
6:28
6:37
6:53
5:57 (.85 miles)
That was where I stopped to pop again around 23. I turned my watch off. Now I did this in Boston before and had my pouty pants on. But as I was in the john I kinda thought about it and you know what. Flip it. No seriously flip it. I knew that I wasn't going to get my goal, but I wasn't going to pout about it. Just go out there and have fun. So I got my shuffle up to some sort of pace and just started to run. Every time I passed someone I said thank you in a french accent. I talked to people that I passed (which were few) in that accent. I saw one of the Kenyan leaders suffering from heat exhaustion, getting air pumped into them, got passed by the second place female, and had a great time for the last 3.1 miles. I think I ran the last 2.2 in 15 minutes which really wasn't that bad. And so when I was finishing I saw the time and thought to myself well damn I'm going to have the second fastest marathon time in my life. Can you believe that! That's the turnaround that I have been talking about. I can say that I'm a positive person. I can say all those sort of things, but actions do not always self represent (as Fat Mike would say). But they did. And sure I felt like crap after the race. Didn't eat a solid meal for hours and when I did I looked like I was going through heroin withdrawal. But honestly I was proud of myself. To often I would get down on myself, threaten to quit running, become isolated, but I hung tough and gutted it out. Sure it was disappointing, but not as disappointing as Charlotte. I hung in there and survived.
Now the end of the story.
Do you have anything?
I didn't tell anyone that I was running, save for Lamperski and maybe a few others. Why? It goes back to how I felt about coaching and my team and what it meant to me. It honestly something that mattered to me and not to other people. Sure it's nice to have people you know cheer you on, but they don't really get it either. They aren't there running with you. They aren't experiencing what you are. What it boils down to is that it's a personal thing and that you can share it if you want to or you can keep it to yourself. I don't care one way or another how you do it. I do it my way, because that's the way I operate. I go back to the DIY work ethic and culture that I'm in. I listen to bands and hope they don't get to famous that they get recognized and make slick albums (please don't be true Gaslight Anthem!), that it means something to have connection to the audience, that I still can't understand why people download music when they wont get the feeling of looking at the album cover or reading the liner notes (who was the guy play the organ on that song?!). I listen to punk music (and not ironically), I've seen some bands that I like become adapted by the masses (Blink 182), I've seen bands I like become shells of themselves (Anti-Flag) and I've seen bands that I like become embraced by the bros (Dropkick Murphys). In high school I didn't have that many friends, but the music was there and the core bands that I listened to then are what I listen to now. And that's fine by me. I embrace this and try to operate it into my daily life. So that's why I keep things to myself when maybe I should post them. That's why I'm muted in self praise. I don't really go looking for recognition and am embarrassed by those who celebrate my athletic achievements.
The next steps. I'm going to get a coach. I always knew this. This was the end of the Brian McMahon experience. What will I run next? An 8k. Then back to Charlotte for a week to do some racing. I'm not sure of when I will race a marathon. Will I do another one? Yes. But I'm not sure of when that will be. There's not much more to be said. I'm not sure of the word count, but it's lengthy. It is what it is. I keep asking myself do you have anything?
I know the answer it's always been there and I hope it wont go away.
