In just eight years, I have been very fortunate to be welcomed into and play a role in communities that have had a profound impact on my life. Perhaps this isn’t unique to just me and many of us experience this after departing college, a place synonymous with community, and begin to venture out into the world to seek similar emotions and connections. I’ve always recognized my past and the role it plays in my present day, but I guess it really smacked me in the face during a recent meet weekend.
12/24/17
A few days from now the year will be up. A lot has went down over the past three hundred sixty five days, some good, some bad, and some in between. One thing I have thought a lot about in the recent months is this unique privilege I have as a coach and the role I play in my athletes lives. I of course put down the X’s & O’s, organize practice, talk meet / race strategies and the list could go on. Though I’m also tasked with helping fulfill each one of my athletes hopes, dreams, and desires over the course of their four years. At times this is really daunting and scary to me, even all consuming. Even when I’m out of the office and away from my team, I can’t help but think of somebodies pursuits for an upcoming race or season. Obviously success isn’t the result of one coach, as a lot of the responsibility falls squarely on the athlete. They’re the one doing the workouts, throwing down on race day, and getting in a long run on Christmas Eve. Still, I’m serving as “shepherd” through all of those occasions, whether the route or result is good, bad, or ugly. Externally, I always need to exude confidence even if I’m second guessing myself internally. I have to be there to pick them up after falling short of a personal best or give them a big hug after becoming an All-American. It can be whacky, stressful, and tough, but it also gives me such a rush and I wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world. Thanks to all of YOU for sharing your passion with me and letting me play a role in your life on and off the track.
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.
It had been quite some time since I was fortunate enough to throw down a big distance double at the same meet or over the course of a weekend. Though I think last week’s whirlwind adventure of going to the Penn Relays and hosting the NESCAC Outdoor Championship all within 72 hours, certainly made up for my long hiatus.
I’m not sure where to begin, as it was a weekend filled with such extreme emotions in such a short period of time. At one moment you’re trying to contain your excitement, confidence and fervor for what lies ahead and then just as suddenly it’s gone. You stagger away like you just finished 15 rounds of a prize fight, but the only thing broken is your heart.
I guess I should start from the weekend prior, when we began the final stretch of the season at Harkness Memorial Park for New England Regionals. Arriving at the course on Friday, it was a beautiful late fall afternoon as we criss-crossed the course and took in views of the Long Island Sound. Ending our run at the starting line, we milled around quietly as dusk rolled in and concluded the day with a few final strides. In those final minutes of that afternoon, I noticed a distinct sense of confidence, focus, as well as relaxation, among all the guys on the team. It’s not as if everyone was talking a lot about the race or that we had given some inspiring speech before departing for the hotel; it was just the feeling of being present which made it especially memorable.
I always get this little buzz whenever I wake up on Friday mornings. And it’s not because the week is over or because I will be able to sleep in the following morning. Instead, it’s the complete opposite, as the pinnacle of my week is typically high noon on a Saturday–there will be no time for sleeping in.
While I’m certainly excited throughout the day on Fridays, I also can’t help but feel a bit nervous for the upcoming raceon Saturday. I find this to be an interesting component of coaching, as you don’t normally face these high intensity tests on a weekly basis in the board room or office. Yes, there are certainly highly stressful jobs and really hectic days,weeks,months, but for the most part you’re playing a real time role in the chaos that ensues. For me, I can only stand there for 25+ minutes and watch the race unfold while trying my best to play some part with my shouting of encouragement. I’m the coach and a major part of my job is to prepare my athletes both physically and mentally for races, thus I’m not a complete bystander in the outcome of a race. This interesting relationship between myself, my athletes, and an upcoming race is a dichotomy I have thought about often in my early years of coaching.
I think a lot of the time as coaches we want to make sure everything is perfect and we want to say and do all the right things leading up to a race. I have certainly been guilty of such things and have said plenty of dumb things that I thought would be helpful before a race. In reality, life isn’t perfect and the lead-up or meet day itself could present many different situations. There might be the need to switch out guys due to illness or you could be toeing the line on aSaturday that’s forty degrees and raining. Whatever the situation may be on that given day, you’ll still be the one on the sideline and your athletes will still be the ones racing. That’s why I feel that it is vital to encourage a sense of independence and individual ownership among members of the team. This shouldn’t be viewed as a deflection of responsibility or lazy coaching, but an opportunity for an athlete to grow and be able to take any situations that pop up in a race, training, or in life. While I’m available to any of my athletes 24/7 and I try to do everything in my power to help them be successful in running and their lives outside of running. But there will be plenty of times I’m not there to lend a hand and hopefully they are able to get up on their own two feet and keep racing.
“It is not the critic who counts, not the man who points out how the strong man stumbled, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena; whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs and comes short again and again; who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions, and spends himself in a worthy cause; who, at the best, knows in the end the triumph of high achievement; and who, at worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat. ”
— Theodore Roosevelt
It has been over three months since my last post. Summer has finally come to a close and my favorite time of the year has been well underway for little over a month.
In late August, I was thrilled to return to Amherst to begin another big year of races, workouts, long bus rides, early Sunday morning runs, and hours of dinning hall chats. With the start of a new year, we also welcomed eight fresh new faces to our program. While these young men all hail from different corners of the country and different walks of life, they have all seemed to do quite well making the adjustment to life in the Pioneer Valley. It has always amazed me how, in just over a month, those once-nervous first-years who didn’t know any team running routes nor have ever raced an 8k, are now well versed in all that is Amherst College Cross Country. They have made a fine adjustment to collegiate workouts, tasted their first 8k, and are no longer afraid to dish out a little banter to an upperclassmen.
While they are now well involved in the inner workings of our program and have been on campus for over a month, they are still just freshman and still adjusting to a big life change. One thing we have always tried to stress with our first year athletes is to approach the first semester and or year without expectation, specifically when it comes to running. You’re far away from home, you’re living with a stranger, taking on intense academic course load, and you’re also part of a collegiate sports team. Why make something you love and enjoy, this stressful and burden in your daily life? We will never pressure kid with lines such as, “We really need you to step up this fall and be part of our conference team!” or “You’re going to need to score this weekend at Regionals!”. If first year’s make large impacts at big meets or in the post-season, we really see just see that as an awesome bonus. You have to remember that the college is four years and for distance runners that means the possibility of twelve seasons of running, so there is plenty of time to score points and run fast.
As we now find ourselves at the halfway point of the season, temperatures are dropping and championship season is rapidly approaching. The guys opened up their season with a competitive 6k race across town at UMass in early September and capped off the month with a strong showing at the Purple Valley Classic. These next two weeks will be two big tests, as we head to Franklin Park for Open New Englands on Saturday and a week later we will be at home for the famous Little 3 Championship. We certainly have big goals for both meets, but all that matters right now is checking off today’s ten mile run through the woods of Amherst.
July 16th 2015
Purely for selfish reasons, I’m not the biggest fan of summer. Primarily, it has to do with the fact that my time isn’t revolving around runs, workouts, meets, or just the general camaraderie of 30+ young men. I experience the summer like a sailor who is yearning for home but is stuck in the doldrums. Each day the sailor sits at the bow in the hot sun and watches the boat move agonizingly slowly across the water, inching ever so slightly to shore. Then one morning, the sailor awakes to stiff sails, water lapping against the hull and it’s full steam ahead. That day for me comes in late August when I can hear in the hallway the banter of my athletes as they approach my office for our first team meeting of the season. But before I can bask in that holy day, I have to survive the doldrums.
July 2nd 2015
It’s hard for me to remember a time in my life when running was non-existent. That is probably due in large part to the fact that running is now a constant fixture in my everyday life. From the moment I wake up until the time I go to sleep, my being revolves around the sport. I consider myself quite fortunate, as a majority of people have standard 9 -to-5 gigs and running is squeezed around their busy schedules. Simply just the thought of heading to an office every day and sitting at a desk for countless hours fills me with looming dread and anxiety. Luckily my office building has no desks, chairs, or buzzing fluorescent lights. For me, my cubicle is out on some gravel road loop on a crisp gray fall day. Sometimes you’ll find me on a cold winter night tucked away in the corner of some old and dry athletic “cage”. Most other times, I seek refuge on a quiet back straightway during a picturesque spring day. Thankfully the company I work for is quite small and my coworkers are — for the most part — steadfast and dedicated. Ever so often we find ourselves collectively teetering on the precipice of great moments of success or heartfelt failure. Some days we will walk away victorious, while other days leave us scratching our heads and going back to the drawing board. But it’s the endless time we spend together outside of those high strung situations that I savor the most.
In two short years I have learned that there are certainly difficult moments in the world of college running — it’s not all PRs, championships won, or NCAA appearances. In the time to come, I hope to show you both the ups, downs, and the in betweens of a collegiate distance coach.
Luke Maher 