RUNNING MAN SETS RECORD STRAIGHT AT ROW RIVER

The running man in question is Nicholas Thompson. Maybe you’ve heard of him, or someone like him.

Probably not, though. He’s just another runner in a running world full of speed. Oh, he just set the American record for a 50K ultra.

Now you’ve heard of him. But there’s so much more, which fits in with the boomerpdx program.

He’s a writer. And a guitar player.

I’m impressed by writers who are competitive athletes. Especially runners. Talk about an inner life, you need one while clocking mile after sub-six minute mile. Not that I would know.

I once ran a five and a half minute mile. Down hill. That’s the good news. The bad news? It was the first mile of a 15K. That’s a running man mistake.

Thompson gives an accurate account of this running life, times, and history. It all sounds vaguely familiar. And it should. He wanted to get better. For runners, better means faster.

My one marathon time was 3:32 on a flat track in Seaside, Oregon. I had a crack at breaking three hours? A slight crack.

I relate to Mr. Thompson because he wanted to share his sport with his sons. I shared the same goal when I joined a team for Hood To Coast.

The main difference is Thompson’s kids saw their old man run like a deer; mine saw a different animal. I think they were more embarrassed than impressed.

The home stretch for Hood To Coast was run in the sand. As if an all-nighter and two 8K legs weren’t enough, I had the honor of the sand finish. I wanted to come in strong.

The crowd cheered as I passed. Maybe I waved, but not after I saw who they were cheering for. Some schmo was running me down at the finish line. I had to kick, had to find an extra gear.

It wasn’t there.

Running Man Looking Good, Didn’t Fall Down

I finished. It was a wreck.

Before I dropped I got the group picture. A red faced forty-nine year old stood out with a well rested and showered team.

Mr. Thompson’s finishes seemed more celebratory than survival.

As a running fan, he came to Oregon for the 50K at Row River near Cottage Grove. He did a pre-race run on the Pre-Trail. Visited the Pre-Rock. The good luck he carried from one of America’s running idols settled in.

We had a nice exchange on twitter, but I forgot to mention Jim Ryun coming to Oregon way back when to run the dunes on the way to Horsefall Beach. If memory serves, there were pictures in a Sports Illustrated at the time.

Give Thompson’s essay a read and you’ll find more than running tips. Like what?

It gives a master class on how to embrace a father who’s life takes the sort of twists and turns lesser men might shun. Not this guy.

His dad did the dad thing and lived his own life. Not every dad can say that. I can because I’ve bonded to a wife and kids who give the impression of the person in the song “A Boy Named Sue.”

If I bailed on them then might come for me with bad intent. My boys might lay their old man out given the right circumstances, like mom’s encouragement.

And like every proud wrestling dad, I’d secretly admire them for their grit.

Sports Family

We all come from a particular set of family circumstances, some good, some not so good. Thompson’s dad had an ornery father who wanted him to compete. Instead, his kid read books and listened to music. In Oklahoma.

Was he a disgrace in his father’s eyes?

What we learn from experience is not to shame others for their choices. Especially kids. Look at current events and see a snap shot of parenting gone wrong.

Things can always go wrong, but I share a strong sense of “Don’t blame me, I did everything to make it right.”

But that doesn’t always count with those we’re closest to. Why not blame in a lashing out sort of way, then apologize? Why not? Because some people have long memories.

I was recently raked over the coals for something I did at nineteen. It wasn’t pretty, but I took it. My response was even and measured, and most of all kind.

The lesson there was don’t stir the pot just because someone else has a spoon in there.

Being a good runner is one thing. Being a good dad is another. Together, they set a foundation for the sort of outcomes dreamed of. I’ve had that dream.

I got a chance to wrestle for state championships, national championships, a college team, and an All-Army Team tryout. It was a period of accelerated maturity.

My sons had similar wrestling moments. Later I read a school paper by one of them explaining why they didn’t like wrestling. But they still got after it. Thank you, boys. You did your old man proud.

I can see running man Nicholas Thompson cheering his kids in the future like a good dad. And that makes me very happy, which is a good place to be. Check him out.