Getting underway with my fourth year of coaching, ever so often I find myself reminiscing about my days as the one toeing the line. These moments of reflection come at random times throughout the season, such as when the guys are staggering around in camaraderie after expending themselves in a race or when I’m going through the details of a tough workout. Often it leads me to think about whether or not, I would be able to replicate that performance or accomplish that workout during my time. Most of time the answer is no, as I was far from being a star performer during my time at Tufts. I certainly worked hard and gave it my best throughout my four years, but I never scored a point at our conference championships or was heavily relied upon during a big time meet.

Now as a coach, I have much better understanding of that not being all that matters when it comes to being a teammate or member of a collective group. Though, I know throughout my time as an athlete that fact weighed heavily on me. I came into school with expectations of someday blossoming in my older brother and having this “integral” role as a member of a national caliber squad. After freshman year wrapped up and I produced modest times and performances, my faith had a wavered a bit, but I was still confident about meeting my expectations and goals. Sophomore year came and there were more miles, faster runs, and more experience, but still similar results. It would be the same story over my junior and senior years as well. I would certainly become a more astute and well developed runner, but I still fell short of the big expectations I had set for myself throughout the years.

I’m sure some athletes would cite their coaches or improper training, as their lack of progress or inability to meet personal expectations. Though I never once felt that my coaches were the result of my failure to achieve the goals I had set for myself throughout the four years. Through the highs and the lows, I distinctly remember my assistant coaches and head coach carving out personal time in their schedules to speak to me, check-in, and go over my goals for the season. All of this despite my failure to ever run faster than 4:30 in the mile, barely break 27 minutes for an 8k, or ever really factor as a varsity member of our team.

Part of that approach by my coaches may have been on the basis of it being Division III athletics, but I think it was in large due to their personal beliefs as coaches. They truly bought into the fact that their role in our lives as athletes, goes beyond the stats on TFRRS or the NESCAC Varsity squad.

I think that mindset and belief system has really helped me get past my own insecurity of being seen as good enough for my athletes. I of course love winning, watching my athletes put up really fast times, and crush huge PRs.Though in reality, those big races and performances really haven’t stuck with me on a personal level. Rather, I fondly remember a joyous car ride with a group of young men after crushing a regional meet. I cherish that precious time of reflection and deep thought among my athletes in an airport following a tough day on the sport’s biggest stage. It’s everything from those nights they ask me to share a meal with them at the dinning hall to seeking advice for a matter outside our small little bubble of running.

From time to time, I think about the day when I have pack my bags and leave Amherst. In all seriousness, it actually causes me to choke up and get quite emotional. It’s been an incredibly transformative place for me and it’s not due to national records, NESCAC titles, or NCAA appearances. It’s due to the young men who have accepted me, put their trust in me, and made me a better person in more ways than I could imagine.