In honor of America's win in the 1500 m, I share this memory from October 1994 after the "Great Race of Middletown" 5K road race. I came in 5th overall with an 18:05 and won the 14-18 age group (I was 15 at the time).
I was a miler. I figured that out in third grade when I ran the distance for the first time in around 8 minutes and finished half a lap ahead of the rest of my grade. I broke 7 minutes in fifth grade and was sub-6 minutes by eighth grade--all with no training and lungs full of second-hand smoke.
I broke 5 minutes in the mile for the first time when I was 14 at the county freshman/sophomore indoor championships in the February '94. I came in second with a 4:54, beat by a kid from CBA (more on them later) who outkicked me and then hugged me afterwards for running the best race of our young lives together. We beat the sophomores by ten seconds. Since indoor was not exactly a popular sport, my time was also a school record for the distance. I broke 5-6 more times before finishing with a 4:35 in March '97 in my last indoor mile at the NJ "Meet of Champions" (state finals), held on Princeton's cushy 200 meter track.
We didn't run the 1500 much, though. In fact, I ran it only three times--all at the same meet, though in three different years. Strangely, I won all three races.
The first was a freshman race. I was seeded second in the race, behind a kid from Middletown North (our cross-town rival) named Tom Fetter. I knew him. He had won cross county freshman county championship only a month or so earlier. We sat next to one another up in the dingy, overheated hallway outside the track (at Red Bank Regional), waiting for our race. He said nothing the entire time. Never even glanced at me. I had never seen anything but the back of him throughout cross country so I doubt he knew who I was. I felt like a bug. I thought coach had given me too fast a seed time 4:48.
It takes 9 and 3/8 laps to run 1500 meters on RBR's 160 meter track (then a rubberized basketball floor with lines of masking tape to demarcate the lanes). For the first seven I stalked Fetter, just trying not to let him pull away from me. About halfway through I sensed the rest of the pack had fallen way back and it was just us. As we began the eighth lap, though, I realized two things. First, not only was I handling the pace, but I still had gas in the tank. Second, Tom's posture had changed: his shoulder blades seemed to shrink into one another and he was holding his head back more and more.
I began to suspect that as good as he was at Cross Country (a gap that I would close with him by senior year), Tom Fetter couldn't handle the pace he had set...but I could. I was a miler.
When I passed him on the home stretch heading into the last lap, I made sure to lengthen my stride and keep my head level, looking straight-ahead as though he wasn't there. When the official fired the gun I was so jangled with nerves I thought he was shooting at me. 160 interminable meters later I crossed the line. Turning around, I saw Tom entering the home stretch 55 meters back--gassed and about to get passed by some kid from Asbury Park.
Two years later I won the Varsity 1,500 at the same meet in a walkover. Thanks to a timely blizzard only around ten schools showed up. I took first at a virtual jog, keying a 1-2-3 sweep for our team.
The next year was a different story. Something like 40 or more schools showed up at the 1996 Burns Invitational. Defending champion though I was, and respectable though the time on my seed card (4:24, I think), this time I was seeded eighth in a packed field full of milers from all over the state, many of who I didn't recognize. Given my poor seed, I found myself shunted into a tight pack once the race went off. A wall of runners, four abreast, blocked my path forward and I had at least two more on either side of me.
The pace was brisk but doable but I couldn't break out of the fucking bubble I found myself in. The longer the race went on, the more discouraged I became. Then, around 400 meters to go, I snapped. An ego-fueled surge of anger took hold.
Who are these fucking goons? This is my track. I'm defending champ. This is my fucking race!
I stopped dead for a step. I broke out from the rear of the throng. Thus unencumbered, I hit the jets, passing the lot with authority. Whether benumbed by the monotonous pace or just shocked that anyone would pull a mid-race Top Gun, not a one of them tried to hang with me. I finished at 4:18. In a seldom-run race, that turned out to be the fastest time in NJ half a season. It was a dubious honor, for a month plus having my name listed alongside those of much-more talented runners in the Star Ledger's weekly list of top YTD performances--like breaking the world record of plate spinning or something.
In the end my 5K PR was 16:58 (1996 Group IV finals at Holmdel Park, my last race)--a good fifteen seconds ahead of Tom Fetter. I tied the school record. It's since been annihilated, of course.
In outdoor track I lettered in the 400, 800, 1600, and 3200. I also ran 4x400, 4x800, Spring Medley and Distance Medley. Sandwiched between teammates who were, respectively, the defending statewide silver medalist in the 800 meters and bronze medalist in the 400 meter hurdles--in the spring of 1996 I ran second leg on a 4x800 relay put up a 7:58, the second fastest time in NJ that season (and still a school record 28 years later).
That same season my team made the front page when we beat Christian Brothers Academy in a duel meet: 70-61. The best cross country school in the nation and one of the best in track and field, CBA also happened to be in our division (made up of them and seven public schools they kick the crap out of on an annual basis).
The loss we handed them in track was their first in 19 years--they've only lost once since. It gave us the only division title we ever won (though we did win conference in indoor track earlier that year). We never touched CBA in XC, though, a sport in which they haven't lost a duel meet since 1973--398 straight wins (including four against yours truly) the longest streak nationwide, among the top 5 longest streaks across all US high school sports).
First male athlete in school history to earn 12 varsity letters.