A blog about a blog

by Chris McClung

Context

Just a couple of weeks ago, Chris Gowell wrote this blog. It is relatively short and made for a quick/easy read. I read it and was inspired enough to share with my athletes via email that same week. But, since reading and sharing it, I have been bothered by it. Something about it has been gnawing at me, nibbling at my soul, and I need to share it. So, here goes…

So, what could possibly bother me about the Welshman’s grand prose? The writing style is of no issue as I am always entertained by Chris’ blogs. Rather, I have been gnawed at by fear, fear that the depth and power of inspiration contained within this compact set of words would be missed, replaced in its readers by simpler, bubble-gum inspiration about dreaming big – something to pop in the mouth briefly until the flavor runs out, and then discard almost as quickly as you read it.

To be clear, I am not blaming Chris or the reader. Chris was simply trying to share his very-powerful sentiments after a potentially disappointing race and desired to do so without boring the reader with length. And, the reader didn’t have the context to draw much more from his words. So, either you enjoyed the bubble-gum inspiration or you spit it straight out, finding it difficult to relate to his Olympic dreams in the midst of your seemingly down-to-earth aspirations. To be clear also, I am not claiming superior insight, but I do perhaps have more context and that is why I am compelled to share here.

So, what inspiration can we find between the lines?

When I read the blog, I thought about the circumstances of Chris writing it. He was on the plane home from the Occidental High Performance Meet in California. He had finished 6th in his 1500 meter race in a time of 3:42, a time that would make any of us normal runners look silly. You may or may not know that. And, you may or may not know that Chris ran in the 4^th of four, 1500m heats that day, the “slow” heat in the elite running world. His time, though 6^th in his heat, would put him 37^th on the list of 1500m finishers that day out of 52. Of those 52 runners, maybe, just maybe 2-3 will make an Olympic team in their home country. And, of those 2-3, the chances of one making the Olympic final in the 1500 are still very long odds.

So, I picture Chris thinking about his race on the plane and then squirming a bit in his seat thinking about his odds and questioning why he does this. He starts by thinking of his tactics in the race where he moved to the front too early and would fade late as his own insecurities caused his rhythm to break and legs to tighten under the weight and stress of leading the race. Then, he wonders if he will ever overcome those insecurities and have the confidence to press at the right time, regardless of what everyone is doing around him. He thinks about the other races on the day that were run in times that he has only dreamed of to this point. How could he possibly compete on the world stage, when the best he could manage on this day was 37^th on a list of runners who collectively have long odds to make an Olympic final in the event? Why does he chase this dream under his even longer odds?  How can he aspire to beat these runners when most of the time he simply aspires to just be them, to simply match their times? Why does he deal with the pressure of a family from Wales that doesn’t understand why he chooses to live several thousand miles away from his home, put his master’s degree to work at a place called Rogue, and run laps around the track in heat that no one from his home country could even fathom?

And then, oddly, I think about Desiree Davila, who just over 6 years ago, wrote a similar blog. This blog wasn’t published for the world to see until much later, but she recorded it in her journal in March of 2006 just a few short months before she would graduate from Arizona State University after a good, but far from stellar, collegiate running career. She would then write: “If we will all eventually walk away disappointed, then what is the point? Why do we step out the door each day?  If only one person can be the best, are the rest of us essentially failing?  I certainly don’t have the answers, but today I’ll walk out the door with my [Brooks] Burns tied tight and hopes of setting the world on fire firmly engrained in my mind. Odds are I’ll never wear an Olympic medal around my neck, but maybe…just maybe, I will. With that in mind I’ll take off down the road and put in the days work.  If we don’t try we’ll never know. At least I can find out how good I can be.  I can have an answer at the end of the days, and have a hell of a good time with the process.”

She wrote those words to herself possessing a 5k PR of 16:17 (the Olympic A standard is 15:15) and having never, ever run a marathon. Most responsible people in her life at the time guided her to a real job knowing that her odds were long at best to ever see an Olympic team, much less an Olympic medal. But Desi defied them and moved halfway across the country to the glamorously cold Rochester Hills, Michigan where she joined a team in Brooks-Hansons that had never even produced an Olympian. She continued to believe even after her first marathon in 2007 when she ran 2:45 to qualify for the Olympic Trials of 2008 but in a time that wouldn’t even register her in the top 75 in this year’s Olympic Trials.  She continued to believe because you never know what is possible until you commit all the way and open yourself up to the possibilities that exist beyond the boundaries of your own mind and circumstances. She will continue to believe all the way to London this summer where she will line up at the Olympic Marathon (having finished 2^nd in this year’s US Olympic Trials), not just as a member of the team but as someone who will be on the top 10 list of women favorites who “maybe, just maybe” will take home a medal.

And, then I think about Chris again, typing his words and having the courage to wear his dream (and the insanity of it) on his sleeve for the world to see. [Note: Desi’s blog wasn’t published until she shared it after she had already qualified for the Olympics.] I think about him continuing to work hard in training and endure disappointment after disappointment on the track as he pursues his “farcically believable moment.” I think, daydreaming now, about the future and picture digging up his blog (and perhaps this one) four or eight years from now so we can reminisce about how far he has come as he prepares for his first Olympics. I anticipate the overwhelming excitement and small tears of joy that will precede watching him step on the track under the Olympic lights, competing with the best of the world, after years of working hard out of the spotlight, doing ancillary drills under the fluorescent lights of the Rogue training room and running laps around the eastside track.

And, then I think about my own dreams and aspirations and wonder… what limits have I put on myself in running and in life? What farcically believable moments do I seek? Do I let the fear of failure paralyze me or do I run toward it, knowing that only if I seek more failure will I see those moments come? And, what, what, am I going to do about it all because writing a blog about a blog is not enough?

It takes a village

by John Schrup, on Team Rogue (“The Wolves”)

“Running well is a matter of having the patience to persevere when you are tired and not expecting instant results.  The only secret is that it is consistent, often monotonous, boring, hard work.  And it’s tiring.”

-Robert de Castella, former world record holder in the marathon.

Amen, brother.  Especially here in Austin, TX, when the summers make it feel like you’re running directly on the surface of the sun.  And that’s before we consider the humidity.  Which makes it feel like the surface of the sun is also in a jungle.

It is tiring.  Cross-eyed tiring.  Sometimes, in the middle of a marathon block, when our volume is the highest, and we are doing some really big workouts that seem to go on forever, or we’ll do a double and it’ll be, like, 109 degrees or some shit, the look on the faces of the athletes I work with is so vacant, so blank that I know that they are all in.  I know they are in full-on marathon training, the real kind, and not some lame-ass magazine’s template.  Probably, if you aren’t cross eyed tired six weeks out from your race, you’re not doing it right.

And it can be boring.  Especially if you have to do much of it by yourself.  The hardest part, after all, is getting out the door on an absurdly hot and humid morning, to do your 70 minutes easy run all by yourself.  Or, God forbid, it is ridiculously cold, you know, like, 37 degrees or something.  And windy.  It’s hard to get out the door when it is cold and windy.  But they do it.  The Wolves, they do it.  And they do it more than most.  But they have each other to rely on.

This is exactly why having a group to train with is so important.  It takes a village, er, training group.  All for one, and one for all, and all that good stuff.  Honestly, I couldn’t do it all by myself, and I bet most of you couldn’t either.  Maybe you could, but it’s just not the same.  We need others to inspire us.  We need others to need us, to rely on us as we do them.  We are interconnected in that sense.

Without the group, we don’t run as fast, or as fun.  One of the things I look forward to each day is that first water stop, when, most often in the dark, when I can hear the voices of the first group, way before I actually see them, chatting away, laughing, teasing each other.  This is the group dynamic.  It is a mobile, magnetic family, taking over the streets in the mornings, before most families are even up off the pillow.

This is the group dynamic.  This group, these Wolves, they take care of each other.  They make sure that, if one is having a bad day, he or she makes it through the run, either verbally supporting them to keep up, or physically remaining behind with them when they can no longer.  And on race day, that is when the good stuff happens.  Teammates on pace duty accompanying them in the hard parts of the race, teammates bouncing around all over the course to make sure that vocal support is there, teammates at the finish to hold each other up, to give congratulatory bear hugs and to offer that first recovery beverage, if you know what I mean and I think you do.

You could do it yourself, all by yourself.  But why?

The Team Rogue season kicks off this Saturday! Whether you are aiming for a fall marathon or the Austin Distance Challenge, this is the group for experienced, dedicated runners who want a training plan and support group like none other. An easy run followed by a team meeting/info session is happening on Saturday, June 2 at 6am at both Rogue locations.

Team Rogue Dominates Resolution Run

Could there be a better way to start out the New Year than with a flat, out-and-back 5K (3 mile) race on a mixed gravel/concrete trail under an overcast 45 degree morning. For the 400+ timed runners participating in the inaugural Rogue-sponsored New Year’s Resolution Run, can we say PR?

With encouragement from Team Rogue’s Aussie Scott Rantall rabbiting the race from his bike while getting in a little cross training for next weeks 3M Half, 14 year-old Team Rogue Prep runner Jeremy Brown led all runners with a blistering 15:50. Using the race as a tune-up for next weeks half marathon, Team Rogue’s Michael Wedel came in next with a 16:56 PR.

Pushing each other to the finish and rounding out the top four were Team Rogue Prep runners Madie Boreman (age 13) coming in first place for females with a time of 17:30 and Ryan Brown (age 12) with a time of 17:37.

“Team” Rogue

by Michael Wedel

The Team Rogue fall marathon season finished up this past weekend, with the Dallas White Rock Marathon.   We had some fantastic performances to finish off a great season of training.  I was there to spectate and do some pacing.  While I was there, I saw a great example of how we really have become “Team” Rogue.  I’ve been with the team since May 2008.  It’s always been full of awesome, dedicated people, but this season it went up a notch.   This season was filled with many great examples of teamwork and friendship.  There are probably a dozen stories I could write about, but what I saw in Dallas exemplifies how we’ve really become a team.

I went up to Dallas with Jessica Bryant, Christina Northover, and Sue Lynn Vann.  Sue Lynn was aiming to finish her first full marathon.  I was set to pace her from about mile 9 to mile 20, where Jessica would take over.  Christina was going to cheer at various spots on the course.  Race day was in the 40’s with wind and rain.  It rained on and off the entire time.  I waited at about mile 9 with Jessica, Christina, Coach John Schrup, and Sue Lynn’s brother, Minh.  We chose to wait there, since that is where the full and half course split, and we also had people running the half.  It was freezing, and we were wet, but excited to see all of our teammates come through.  When Sue Lynn came by, I started my run with her.   I won’t go into much detail here.   I’ll just say that she’s tough, but it was a hard day, and she was dealing hip and knee pain, which made her have to stop and stretch a number of times.  I had my phone with me, so I was sending out text updates so everyone knew what mile we were at.

Around mile 18 or 19, she started telling me she didn’t think she could make it.  I told her that wasn’t an option; she called me a motherf—er, but kept going.   I knew we would get help at 20, so I texted and said she was going to need some major motivation.  Shortly after that, I got a text from Christina that said “Don’t tell SL, but we are all going to jump in and run the last 6 with her.”   I was expecting Jessica to run with her, but I wasn’t expecting everyone.  That was a surprise.  I didn’t tell Sue Lynn why, but I told her to keep going, and just see how she felt at mile 20.

When we got to mile 20, I saw Jessica, Christina, Helen Yee, and Teresa Benitez all standing there waiting for her.  Helen and Teresa are also in Team Rogue, and had just finished running the half marathon, where Helen qualified for New York.  They had already finished their run, but they were back out there in the rain to support their friend.  As they saw us, they started jumping up and down screaming, the way only a group of women can.   As they came running up to us, they told me they had her, and to take Jessica’s car and meet them at the finish.  I told Helen that Sue Lynn wanted to quit, and she immediately yelled at Sue Lynn, “Hell no, you aren’t quitting”.  So, I took the keys and stopped running.  The last I saw, Sue Lynn was running down the street with a mob of excited women.  I knew she’d be alright, then.  I had helped get her that far, but they were definitely what she needed to bring it home.

I wasn’t there for the last 10k, but I heard it was epic.  They wouldn’t let her stop, and kept her going the rest of the way.  Jessica had her phone on her, so I saw updates about how Sue Lynn was at mile 24, and passing people.  They all finished the race together.  Mission accomplished.

I think, the fact that they all got together, to run her in, shows how this group has really developed as a team over the last 5-6 months.  Jessica and Christina stood in the rain all morning, to cheer on Rogues.  Christina wasn’t dressed for running, at all, besides running shoes.  She could have easily just stayed at mile 20, cheered, then got back in a warm car.  Helen and Teresa had already raced 13.1 miles.  Lots of people would have just gone to wait in the finishing area after racing a half marathon, or just cheered at the finish.  Not these Team Rogue ladies.  When they knew a friend needed help, instead of just cheering, they got out there to run her in for her final 6.2 miles. That is freaking awesome, but pretty much what I’ve come to expect from this group of Rogues.   Everyone ran hard this season, but even badasses need a little support now and then.  That’s what you get in Team Rogue, and that’s one reason why it’s the best training group in Austin.

It has been a fantastic season of training, with lots of great moments and memories.  I’m looking forward to what this next season has to offer.  I think we will only grow stronger as a team, and probably add some more friends to the Team Rogue family.

Trey Hamlett, Boston Qualifier.

by John Schrup

Normally, I am not one to write race reports.  I like to read other people’s, some good, some not.  There are so many components to a good race report.  I don’t know, really, what makes one, but I know it when I read it.

So this is not my race report; it is my report on another’s race.  And I only saw about 50 minutes of it, probably less.

Trey Hamlett is a good friend of mine.  He has trained with Team Rogue now since, I think, late June or early July, I can’t remember which.  Over the last several months I have grown to really love the guy.  He is funny, modest, friendly, entirely helpful and generous of his time; just an all around good guy.  Nobody doesn’t like Trey Hamlett.  He is a Badger, a self named trio within Team Rogue: Trey, Brandy, Jessica.  They are friends, confidants, competitors.  Were they not training partners, probably they never would have become such good friends, so different they are from one another.  Differences are acknowledged, but appreciated.

Trey’s goal for last weekend’s Dallas White Rock Marathon was to qualify for Boston.  Not an unusual goal, specifically within Team Rogue, where the majority are generally faster than the average.  Meeting as a group three times per week, Team Rogue trains at higher volumes and greater intensities than most.  So Trey’s goal was not uncommon within the group.  His performance Sunday, was uncommon by any standard.  He needed 3:30.  On a dismal, cold, wet day he ran a nearly perfect negatively split race (in Team Rogue we’d call that a good progression run) and squeezed from his body every single ounce of energy possible.  He said, afterwards and after collecting himself, there was simply nothing left to give.

In truth, I almost expected it.  His training, most of it over the most ridiculously hot summer imaginable, was right on.  Beginning a few weeks out, however, it became clear that Trey was nearly cooked.  His last long run was at San Antonio, the last 20 miles of the marathon course, where he later told me he thought the run was “brutal.”  I was concerned that he was burnt out, that he was tired, that perhaps I’d given him too much and he was just this much over done.  But we pulled the plug on training in the last two weeks, really allowing him to regenerate and refresh, having him do only two moderate workouts in the last two weeks.  He had responded so well to that dramatic taper, texting me about his appetite, his mental and physical well being, the weather, the whatever it was, that I knew, had no doubt really, that he was good to go.

I drove up to Dallas from Austin on race morning, leaving at 3:30.  He texted me when he woke in the hotel, and we exchanged a few words on the phone, mostly agreeing that the weather would not be an issue and that despite only about four hours of sleep, he felt really, really good.

And in that dismal, cold, wet day we waited first at the marathon/half marathon course split on Greenville Ave–Jessica, Christina, Michael and Minh.  I was nervous and cranky.  They, the Toxic Twins plus two, were upbeat and happy.  Trey came by–this was at almost mile 9–and Jessica and I ran with him for a couple hundred meters.  He was his relaxed, happy self, and we knew he was in a good place.  He ran on his own with about a dozen others, in between the 3:25 and 3:35 groups, relaxed and strong.  I remember noticing first that he had on an Aggie ski cap and carried in his gloved left hand his VESPA, for use at halfway, in the original container, and not in the travel shampoo bottle that I’d recommended.  Just before the turn at 9, we let him go and I was immediately anxious to get to him at mile 20, where I was to join him for the last 10K.

On the drive down Mockingbird, we saw Trey at just past the 15 mile mark.  I looked at my watch and calculated that he was averaging right at 8 minutes per mile, and was able to relax for a brief moment.  Often, the lake is windy and I worried that he might have to work a bit extra here and use up valuable fuel.  Due to the road blocks, it took us an extra few minutes to reach the 20 mile marker, and in those extra few minutes, my stomach began to swirl and cramp, and so I very reasonably slammed the last of my venti Americano.  Toxic plus two dropped me off in the parking lot of the gas station at the hard right turn from Garland Rd, just past the spillway, the gateway to the hills.  I jogged very slowly up the trail next to the road, cold and wet but now very, very excited for all the runners descending Garland Rd. to 20, beginning the best part of the race.  Knowing that they were now in the thick of it, I yelled and clapped and tried to be as obnoxious as possible, anything to help them.  I saw Don, I saw Jordan, then Todd and James, then Mandi, all Rogues.  Of those, only Jordan, in full PR mode, looked really, really good.   Todd, not far from his bitch wolf performance in Chicago, was on pace duty for James, and so I won’t include him in assessment.

When I pick up Trey at about 19 and a half, there was the obligatory exchange–how are you feeling, how is it going?  He noted that at 19 he was 10 seconds behind pace and that he was going completely on feel.  He said something about missing several mile markers, likely due to his own poor observations.

We rolled quickly past James, encouraging him to run with us.  Over the timing mat at 20 I hit the split button on my watch and we began to run downhill toward the spillway.  Brakes off, I urged, just float.  Right on the corner, we passed Mandi, and soon after, Todd.  About this time, Trey said the last thing he would say during these last miles:  Just get me over the hills and I’ll make it.  I knew that he was going to that place we all go in the last few, lonely miles.  When the focus on the run becomes so intense, so totally encompassing, that almost everything else ceases to exist.

I miss a cup of water for Trey, and return to grab it, but thankfully Todd has already handed Trey the last full cup of water he will drink in the last 10K.  Tall! Tall!  Tall!  we bark at him as we climb the gentle slopes of the Dolly Partons.  I grew up in this neighborhood, and these hills are entirely unremarkable in the middle of an easy hour jaunt, but after nearly three hours of running, they would seem much, much more Partonesque.  We turn left up Tokalon, I think it was, and climb a bit more.  Every few minutes a glance at my faithful Soleus GPS tells me that we are running up hill right at 8 minutes per mile, but our rhythm is the same as it was on the flat stretch just before the hills, where the watch told me that we were hovering around 7:40 flat.  Past Carolyn and Ruth, et al, in their striped Cat in the Hats, and I notice that we are catching people quickly.  It is here also that I notice that Trey is no longer talking.  At each water stop, I ask if he wants any, and all he can give is a quiet, short, “no.”  He runs two or three steps behind me, and I can hear the occasional grunt in effort as we round a turn, or cross an intersection.  My watch is set to beep every half mile, so I can check our pace, but I miss the beeps often enough that we are running on effort almost exclusively.

Tall! Tall! Tall! I preach each each time the course turns, or we cross an intersection, or when I feel Trey drop another step back.  His breathing, his footsteps, his energy all tell me that his rhythm is solid and that we are in a good place, albeit tenuously.  Swing your arms!  as we exit a turn.  Watch the walker! as we roll up on a cramped runner.

We are on Swiss, the long, gradual downhill, passing the beautiful old houses and stalling runners.  It is here that I note that Trey has not been passed once; he is rolling through the field quickly, running easily half a minute per mile faster than everyone else in front of him.  Down Swiss, I try to get all up with people on him–we’re going downhill, stand up tall, stand up tall.  He never responds of course, and I begin to feel that he is finally beginning to really suffer, as the grunts and gasps become more frequent.  Down Swiss I notice the pace in the 7:30′s, once seeing 7:20 high and the concern that we are going full gas too early.

Three point one miles to go, and I do some calculations in my head.  C’mon Trey, C’mon, less that 25 minutes!  Let’s go, brother!  Let’s go, twenty-five minutes!  There is a little bend in the road there, which I miscalculate as the last turn.  I feel bad that I’ve prematurely put us in the last stretch, but he is unable to say anything and so I overcompensate with other, more enthusiastic support.  Two point one to go, c’mon Trey, just 16 minutes left, c’mon you can do this, c’mon brother.  He has skipped the last two or three water stops, and I wonder how dry his mouth is, if he is even aware of it.  The last left turn and I notice that it is a gentle downhill, and that surely can help.  But we are now within the throngs of stumbling, bonked marathoners and walking, talking half marathoners.  Trey is now five or six steps behind me and he is grunting, suffering obviously.  There are people all over the road and Trey is forced to weave between them, still in freight train mode, so I nudge a person out of our path here and there.  To keep him rolling, I’m talking nonstop, mostly urging him to be tall and swing his arms.

The announcers voice is now clear and I tell Trey just a few more minutes, you can do anything for a few minutes, C’MON BROTHER!  On the giant screen at mile 26, I see Trey behind me, looking more mechanical that fluid.  We barrel past the 26 mile marker, and I hear Trey retching, throwing up whatever fluids were left in his stomach.  C’mon Trey, let’s go, two minutes!  Ninety seconds!  Let’s go now!  I remember there were two or three hard turns in the last couple hundred meters, and it frustrated me that there were walkers all over the road, clogging our path to the finish.  C’mon Trey, thirty seconds, let’s go!

As we approach the finish, I look at the clock to check our status, to check to see if he’d finished the task.  3:30:38.  I knew that his starting corrall was far enough back that likely his chip time was considerably faster.  Tick.  Tick.  Tick.  I stop my watch when Trey’s right foot steps on the mat.  His face is white and he is hunched over, stumbling a bit.  The effort of the last thirty plus minutes is completely written on him, and he holds himself up on the fence as someone drapes a mylar blanket over his back.  He says nothing for at least a couple of minutes, just holding himself on the fence, his forehead on his forearm, his back heaving from the effort.

I’ve never seen an effort like that, so close up.  He was full gas from almost the moment I saw him at 19 something.  The pace went from eight flats, to seven forties in fifty steps and it stayed there for the last ten kilometers.  He ran out of gas exactly at the last moment possible.  He timed it perfectly.  My eyes got a bit wet after that, and I applauded to no one the effort I’d just seen.  One minute back of pace at the half, he bulldozed the second half of the course more than three minutes faster.  His slowest mile in that last 10K, the one climbing in Lakewood, was still faster that any of the previous 20.  He’d shifted gears and not let up, and as he put it, he could hear the clutch slipping, the rods clattering, the machine was coming apart.

After the race, in the giant, open building where the spent, hungry runners gather to recap the glory or nurse their wounds, Trey is bundled in dry clothes–gloves, hats, fleece shirts, jackets, all together he looks vaguely homeless.  He lies on his back, shivering, convulsing, the muscles in his quadriceps visibly cramping, like a lightbulb flickering.  Unknown but still familiar people notice his difficulty and ask if he’s ok.  “I qualified,” he says.

Ultimately, his effort is the reassurance that we are all capable of more than we think.  Of course, Trey is wired a bit differently than the rest of us..  He doesn’t comprehend “quit.”  It is not that he won’t; he doesn’t know how to.  He probably finds it amusing, baffling that others do.

Nevertheless, I was reminded on Sunday that each of us can answer “Yes” when asked the question, “Can you give more?”

Local Team Rogue Elite at 3M

Some of the new Local TEAM ROGUE elite ran this Sunday at the 2011 3M Half Marathon and Relay.

Chris Kimbrough had a great race, in spite of the conditions and placed 1st Overall Female Masters with a time of 1:18:04

Shannon Pressley coming back nicely with a less weeks than the rest of the team had for preparation placed 3rd Overall Female Masters with a time of 1:27:13
Shannon said it was tough out there, felt pretty good at the 10K mark, (40:52) said at mile 10, is where she had to really tough it out!

Amy Baker, our newest member of our training group and to Austin, placed 1st in her AG (25-29) with a time of 1:25:46.
I’ve got some video that I’m working on with her discussing the race, so stay tuned for that!

Catherine Barreda made a best effort and toed the line Sunday, but decided to be smart and not complete the whole race for she had a little nagging muscle pull.
Look for her to be coming around strong for the next one

Looking forward and wishing Cassandra Henkiel the best as she gets ready for the National Masters 2011 Half Marathon Championships in Melbourne, FL on Feb 6th.

Scotty Mac’s 10k Training Group

Team Rogue Elite’s Scotty Mac will be coaching a 10k training group starting Thursday December 1st.
Speed is an essential tool for every runner. Whether your goal is to finish a marathon or set a personal record, turnover can be an asset in everyone’s training.

This group’s training will maintain fall base while supplementing intense workouts to improve speed and efficiency. While your actual splits don’t matter, your dedication does. The group meets three times a week, Monday @ 530am, Thursday @ 530am, and Saturdays @ 7am.

Scotty Mac was coached by the legendary John Mcdonnell at The University of Arkansas. Many workouts will be based off of the training Scott and other elite college and professional runners have done.

This program is a great addition for Team Rogue members. It will shake up the monotany of logging long miles over the summer and fall. Sign up today!!!

For training ?’s contact Scotty Mac, scott@scottymacrunning.com

For registration ?’s contact Carolyn, carolyn@roguerunnning.com

My race… err… training report.

By Chris McClung

So, yesterday I completed my 8th marathon in Philadelphia. I was shooting to PR and beat my prior best time of 2:46, but the marathon had different plans as it often does. I ended up with a solid, respectable 2:49:35. I followed the plan, executed perfectly through 19 miles, but my legs tightened up and essentially powered down around mile 20 leading to a long, painful run to the finish and a 5 minute positive split on the second half. There is really not much more to report.

What went wrong? I have theories but I don’t know and may never. The marathon is a harsh companion. You train for months logging week after week of high miles and long runs while trying to stave off injury and illness and bring your best to race on one single day. For this one, I averaged over 60 miles/week for the 23 week program, ran 10 long runs of 20+ miles, and put in more 5:30 am runs than i can count with TeamROGUE. And, in the final weeks, I was on a steady diet of zinc, vitamin C, echinacea, and allergy medicine trying to keep the germs at bay as person after person fell sick around me. That leaves me with lots of hard work done, months of worrying about the details AND now a big fat unmet goal. This leaves me asking: is it all worth it?

Well, I already had the answer even before I lined up on race day. This training cycle has given me the answer and brought me to a new perspective on all of this madness. The answer for me is this: it isn’t all about race day. It’s really about the whole process from start to finish. The training is as much a part of the end as it is the means to it. If i ignored that and focused only on a less than perfect race, then I would overlook the countless cool experiences and moments of insight along the way. So, here are a few of my lessons from training:

1. Running is only an individual sport if you let it be. Yes, for most races, we all run for an individual time. But, in training, it does not have to be that way. Joining Rogue and TeamROGUE has taught me that. I can’t say enough about my training partners. They hold me accountable, they push me on hard workouts, they hold me back on easy days, they give me injury advice when I feel a tweak, they trade pacing duties with me on steady runs and track workouts, they pull me up the Scenic hill on hard repeats, they give me tough love OR encouragement at the right moments, and they kick my ass on a run when i start to get overconfident. In short, we work together… we work as a team to help each other achieve our goals, and I am a better runner for it.

2. Trust your coach and the plan. You never know where it will take you. Brian from TeamROGUE put it best in a forum post: “I have learned that if you’re told to do something, you give it a try. I’ve also learned that Steve is a great coach. He builds you up so you can achieve what he is asking. So I do it.” Yes we do, Brian. Enough said.

3. Relish in the work as much as the race. The race isn’t the only time and place where you can push your limits or have fun. I have struggled with this in the past, sometimes thinking of the training as a chore or as a box to be checked on the way to race day. This cycle I found myself looking forward to the runs and the community that came with them. There is nothing like testing your limits 3 times a week with good friends. Why else would anyone in their right mind run Scenic/Pecos hill loops at steady pace, much less do it twice?!?

4. Invest in people and friendships along the way. And, in hindsight, I still don’t have this one right, but I have learned my lesson (albeit late). I can’t tell you how many hours I have logged running in this group, and admittedly, some I still only know on a superficial running level. And there are people in TeamROGUE who happen to train at different paces, and I still don’t know their names. My bad, my fault, wrong point of focus. Don’t let it happen to you… I won’t again. This community, our community should transcend pace or group.

In the end, you won’t find me crying over 3-4 minutes. I am content with the result and more than blessed to be able to take this kind of journey. I am still driven to push my limits and will no doubt stage another attack on my marathon PR, but I will do so with a renewed determination and a new perspective on the journey to get there.

PS. Special thanks to: my wife and son for putting up with my crazy running hours. Coach Steve for the countless hours and sacrifices you put in to make us better runners and people. Ruth, Carolyn, John and the rest of the Rogue crew for the tireless support. The entire TeamROGUE group for pushing me and each other to not only run faster but have fun doing it (with specific shout-outs to Kamran, Asia, Brent, Corey, Larry, Damon, Niccole, Muz, Paul, Jim, Andrew, Allison, Mike, and Jason).

Rogue: The next generation!

Young Rogue Runners Compete at TLU Middle School Cross Country Meet

Congratulations to the two teams of Rogue Runners made up of elementary and middle school girls and boys who competed at the Texas Lutheran University Invitational Middle School Cross Country Meet in Seguin. In the two mile races, the girls came away with a second place team finish while the boys finished third. Results are below:

Girls

Madison Boreman – 1^st place overall, 12:26

Nikki Keys – 2^nd place overall, 12:43

Lauren Garriques – 12^th place overall, 14:15

Jamie Ashworth – 14^th place overall, 14:25

Jaida Lyles – 17^th place overall, 14:50

Boys

Jeremy Brown – 3^rd place overall, 11:39

Anthony Mata – 7^th place overall, 12:16

Ryan Brown – 8^th place overall, 12:21

Leo Perez – 17^th place overall, 13:00

Chris Washington – 22^nd place overall, 13:39

Look for more young Rogue Runner news in the near future with the upcoming launch of a Rogue Running club for boys and girls ages 9-19.

National Title(s)!

In case you missed the news last week, Rogue coach Carmen Troncoso had another incredible set of races and brought home two National Masters titles!

51-year old Carmen headed to the USA Masters Outdoor Track & Field Championships in Sacramento and easily won her age group, flying through the 800m in 2:29 – second place was a full seven seconds behind her! The next night, Carmen lined up for the 1500m and again cruised to victory in 4:55.31.

One of Carmen’s runners, 33 year-old Laura Mitchell, also competed in Sacremento and followed in her coach’s footsteps, crossing the 800m finish line in 2:29 and finishing the 1500m in an impressive 5:02.

Congratulations, and thank you for again making Rogue look so good!