Sophomore Year
During the summer leading up to cross country season, I made out a schedule and I ran my fucking ass off every single day. I could not wait until the first day of practice so my coach could see that I was new and improved. When the first day of practice came, everybody was out of shape and I was looking real good, my coach was impressed. I loved finishing a run then crossing out the mileage on my calender in my room, it was great. During the sophomore season, I dropped my p.r. at holmdel from 21:13 to 19:14, a huge improvement. I probably could have gone lower but the only race I did not run varsity in that whole year was states. My good ol' buddy gesualdo took my spot and limped across the course in over 20 minutes. I watched him cross the first mile mark limping and I literally cursed at kicked dirt in frustration because I was fit and ready to roll. It was not until my senior year I realized that that 7th spot belonged to gesualdo.. We also tied for the division that year, which was the breaking point in our program.
I still continued to ball during the winter, I basically got 5-10 minutes a game of playing time on J.V. What still impresses me to this day is I would go to 2 hours of basketball practice and run 7 miles in the pitch dark cold nights of the winter, I literally was a crazed lunatic who was obviously obsessed with this sport. When Track rolled around I devoured every single workout, I was progressing nicely. Sophomore year though is when my bad luck started in this sport, and it still has not ended. I ran 5 minutes flat in the mile in the middle of the season, and I had one more chance to break 5 minutes. I was on 4:50 pace or faster in my last chance and some asshole tripped me in the race and I had to finish the race with one foot being completely barefoot. I finished in 5:08. I was so pissed that I almost broke my hand punching a portajohn. I did run 10:50 in the 3200 at the state meet, which we won, that was a great feeling, but I really did not contribute in any way so I was really hungry. I knew that for junior year I wanted to take it to a new level, I wanted to enter new territory.
JUNIOR YEAR
The summer going into my Junior year I ran every single day ( except sunday) no exceptions. I consistently logged about 40-50 miles a week the whole summer, all at a very fast pace, I was closing my runs in under 6 minutes for the last mile. People were telling me I was going to burn myself out but I just told them to shut up. The first 5k of the season was at shore regional. I steam rolled the first mile in 5:08 and picked off runner by runner and finished 3rd in 17:56. I knew I was in serious shape now. I ran a 5:08 for the first mile of a 5k, I knew in the spring I would be able to run around 4:40. During this season, we won our division but finished 3rd in the state meet. I dropped my p.r. at holmdel by another full minute from 19:14 to 18:09 in the middle of the season. The thing is, I actually did burn myself out very badly and ran in the mid 18's the rest of the season, it was very frustrating. I was eying up track though for some personal glory.
That winter I tried out something new. I quit basketball and decided to train full time, a decision I mildly regret to this day. That winter I read this book called Once a Runner which has changed my life. I swear there should be a warning label on the book because it is like a drug. It is about a collegiate miler set in the 1970's who falls of the grid to train like an animal to race the world's best. My training was very on and off, I had a lot of aches and pains going on. I'd get a few weeks of training in then fuck up my knee shin ankle etc. The month before track started I got some very very good training in, which ultimately led to my demise. Track started and I was destroying almost the whole team in workouts. I felt a lot stronger than I ever had felt. I knew I would be able to run 4:40. Then the third week of practice something funny happened. After we had a relay practice, I felt a wierd sensation on the side of my shin. Every single day it got worse and worse. I kept saying to myself its a calf strain, its shins splints, its anything besides a stress fracture right? By the time the scrimage came around I could barely run. I limped around the track in 5:00 flat, and yelled "fuck" out loud when this happened. If I had a right leg that day god knows how fast I would have gone, it just took out another gear. An hour later I ran a 2:11 800. I was pissed even though these times were about the fastest I had gone, I knew they would be MUCH faster if I was not hurt. But still, like an idiot, I continued to run, only one more week, until I realized something was horribly wrong. Ironically I broke my collarbone skateboarding a week later, and an m.r.i. revealed a month later that I was running on a stress fracture in my shin. The feeling of being hurt and watching everybody else run is probably the cruelest thing I've ever experienced. My bro Curt Jensen ran 4:55 that meet, and I really do believe I would have finished with him in that scrimage, would I have been with him at the end of the year? No. But I would have been at atleast 4:40. Curtis p.r.'d at 4:29.
Senior Year
Since I was coming off of a tibia Stress Fracture, a pretty serious one. I could not start training until july 1st, and I could not run a lot during the summer because I was weak. I averaged 30 miles a week that summer, what a fucking joke. One good thing did come out of that summer. I really studied how I got injured in the first place and realized it was because I was a heavy heel striker, a topic I will write about in the future. I thought to myself, where can I find a running shoe that is built the way the human was supposed to run, landing midfoot, and I discovered newton running shoes, and learned how to run right, and I have never had shin pain since. That year we were returning all the varsity runners, and we were heavy favorite for states, a goal I had in the back of my mind since freshman year. This was the climax, the pressure was on big time. The first dual meet we had was on a flat 5k course and I ran an 18:30 and said to myself " shit tom not bad" I figured with the amount of training I had gotten in, I would peak right at states and not burn out like last year. I attribute the newton shoes for me being able to run that time off such little fitness, my body was moving efficiently, my stride was pretty. Then in October something awful happened. I became so sick, my lymph nodes in my neck were very swollen I could not breathe, and I could not even run a lap around the track. My doctor wanted me to get a mono test but I knew if I had mono I would not be able to run, so I walked out of the doctors office and told my mom there was no way I was getting any sort of blood test. I became less sick, key word, less sick, after a week. I had run high 17's low 18's for 5k's the year before, and I was now running in the high 18's ,struggling with breathing, and passing out every chance I had, I was very sick. At the same time I was still a Varsity runner, but I did feel a little left out. Our team was ranked 6th in the shore conference and were heavy favorites for states. The press gave us a lot of publicity because of Curt and Pat, who were the best 1-2 punch in the shore, and one of the best in the state. My coaches and teammates were all wondering what happened to me and thought I was making excuses to why I was racing bad. The one thing I love about my parents is they could care less if I do bad in a race they were always supportive of me. Then eventually the running obsessed parents on the team were asking me what was wrong with me, and when I would tell them I got the impression that they thought I was full of shit. This drove me crazy and I almost caused a scene at one point in the season. The week leading up to states I just tried to stay focused and not catch a cold, and I toed the line that day and ran my guts out and finished about 26th place. I did not run my fastest time but I gave it my all and we were state champions, I was very proud of myself. When olympians train for four years for the olympics and then it is over, there is an identity crisis about what they are going to do now. I did not think this at all. Yea winning states was my main goal for four years, but I still felt like I had unfinished business. I should have been in the top 10, I should have broken 17 minutes, but I was hurt and could not train over the summer, I vowed to myself that spring, I would shock that running community at my school, I went to the drawing boards to risk it all for some glory on the track.
For the first week of the winter I ran 50 miles a week, which was the most I had ever run in one week, then the next week 60, then the week after that 60, and for the month of January I ran 60-70 miles a week. I was getting up before school and running, and on sundays I would run 14 miles, 100 minutes of running. I was in immaculate shape. I would be grinning while I was running in the snow logging in this high mileage, knowing that people knew I was training, but they did not know I was training like this. My plan was to break 4:30 in the mile, and win some races. I wanted to bring the book Once a Runner to life, I wanted to fall of the grid, run mega miles and upset the counties BEST! I tripped on these fantasies all day during school! That was my big goal I was going to win races. Our school got a new track and track became very big at the school. The administration would now be at meets, the school would be at all the meets. The sport that was not that popular was now extremely popular. I would now have an audience to witness this shock. I could not wait for the " wow Tom Daly really is quick." I knew if I was with the leaders in dual meets in a 1600 with a lap to go I would win some races, I could kick like hell. Running alone for so long in such a cold dark period of the year, you really just think. I spent a lot of time just thinking, being by myself, training during that time period. My parents did not even know how much I was running. Then the most awful thing that has ever happened to me, in my whole entire life period, happened. On February 1st, 2008, my friend Mike and I went on a routine 10 mile run. Then the next morning on February 2nd, my calf swelled up like a balloon. After a week it was not better. I panicked and went to the doctor, who looked at it and said it was a bad calf strain and I would be out a month. I was pretty upset, but I knew if I ran in the pool I would be okay, not a tragedy. For one month I ran in a pool at the gym which is probably the most boring thing a human could endure, self torture no doubt. Then after a month track started and my leg still could not hurt, time was going against me. One more week turned to two more weeks, was I going to miss another month? I tried to run one day and my calf swelled up again, then I got an m.r.i. and it came up negative. I said to myself " what the fuck is wrong with me"? Again people did not believe I was injured and it really drove me crazy, like I literally wanted to take a bat to people's faces, run them over with my car, then reverse the car, and run them over again. That is an extreme exageration, but I was really depressed. The whole school was now attending the meets, the kids who were the stars of the track team were like celebrity's now. The track was a stage and they were putting on the shows. I missed the whole entire track season. I eventually stopped going to meets because watching them made me cry. I wanted to run in college, when was I going to be able to run again? Will I ever run again? How can I run in college with no good times? Even today when I think about it, I start to cry. Right before the season started I customed ordered a pair of spikes Nike Zoom milers, all mesh, blue and white like Mater Dei's school colors, with a black swoosh, neon green laces,and on the back of them in neon its stitched in " high hopes." They never left the box, so much for hope, maybe if I have a son some day I will give them to him, because my feet will never set foot in them. All I have are those fantasies of switching into lane 2 on the 4th lap of a 1600 with 250m to go and running away from the field, but it's just a fantasy, it's not real. I never got my shot, and I have to live with that the rest of my life. I never got my shot..
