"Senior Remembers Good Times, Shoes" (Class of 2020 Farewell Part 1 of 2)

Below is in its entirety, the column Coach Hershelman published in the Arvada High School student paper, the Crimson Report a few days before graduating from high school 19 years ago. It is re-typed into this website with some light editing for format. Note that some of the colorful language I would have used at 17 are things that I would never ever ever say 19 years later.

I am sharing this with you all now on the occasion of the graduation of the class of 2020. I wanted to start by sharing this with you now so that you have some idea of where I was at when high school was coming to a close for me.

Senior Remembers Good Times, Shoes

(Republished from the May 11, 2001 Issue of the Crimson Report, the student newspaper at Arvada High School)

Ever since I started running three short years ago, I have always imagined what my final race would be like. In my dreams it looked and felt like a movie, one of those ones in a widescreen format with the black bars on the top and the bottom of the screen. Rain is pouring, the sky is is dark, huge puddles of water consuming my feet every step. Blood pouring down my face as I let out all the life in me cross the finish line. 

The realization that the end of my high school running career came to me the night before the last cross country race. I was standing in the kitchen mixing myself a big glass of Gatorade. I stared down into the big empty canister and a little tear started welling up in the corners of my eye. It's the epiphany that every runner has. The one where they realize that the last few years of their life can be measured up in empty bottles of Gatorade and worn out running shoes. It is kind of sad really. Now as I stand before my closet and look down at the floor and I see all the pairs of running shoes that I have worn. I look at the blue Sauconys and I remember my first Bolder Boulder. I see the bright yellow Brooks and I think of that memorable race my sophomore year when I ran through a mud pit and my shoe came off and I finished the race without a shoe. My closet has become a veritable hall of fame of my own memories.

All the memories associated with my pairs of running shoes directly coincide with my own story of high school. People often ask me as to what my problem is these days. I have been running faster than I ever have before, but it is still not as great as my teammates. I don't get upset though. I think of where I started from. A goofy little freshman with a dream. Starting out in newspaper the first semester of my freshman year, I was bewildered at what was going on around me. The people I was talking to and hanging out with were incredibly nice to me. They did not seem to care what type of shoes I was wearing or who I was going out with (nobody). They just liked to talk to me. So, there I walked around in my cool pair of size 12 black Reeboks. My feet were wider then, so as to reflect my waist size. I wore those shoes out to the point that they had giant holes in them. They were one of the only pairs of shoes that I wore for an entire year before I replaced them. They now serve as my lawn mowing shoes. The spirit of those shoes was unending, much like my own that year. I tried as hard as I could to find my niche in high school, and I did. 

My best friend at the time was a cross country runner. I later found out that he was not very serious about it. At the time however, I decided it was enough to push me to join the team. I decided that spring break that it was time to make a change. I cut all my hair off and started running. At the same time, I got a new pair of shoes. I did not like them at first. They were bright yellow. They were my first pair of running shoes. I thought that they were so cool. Those shoes never wore down. I could lace them up today and probably go for a comfortable run. My sophomore year was my hardest year of running. I needed a pair of shoes that wouldn't wear down. It was the only way I could have done it. Those tireless shoes made my spirit tireless as well, thus setting me up for my next pair of shoes. 

The blue Sauconys were my first pair of track shoes. Unfortunately, they made my feet bleed. This was sort of like what I did to myself during the track season. Under the coaching given to me, I was forced to run harder than I ever had before. The toughness of those shoes showed me that I had to work hard to become a good runner. The last time I wore those shoes was my first Bolder Boulder. I finished the race in 52 minutes, took off my shoes and socks and rung out a whole lot of blood and rainwater. That was really a turning point for me. 

A few weeks later, my next pair of shoes came. These shoes are still my favorite. The purple Reebok DMXs. It was above these shoes that I ran all summer and into my junior cross country season. Everyone was quite surprised at the progress that I made over the summer. I went from a JV fatty to a varsity contender. Instead of running around 24 minutes, I was running around 21 minutes. This year, things really changed for me. I got even skinnier, so much so that my mom thought I was anorexic. I really came out of the shoe box and started to show the world what I was capable of. I joined forensics, I kept going in newspaper. I was allowed to write whatever I wanted (not true). The bright color of my shoes allowed me to show people the bright colors of my personality. The purple Reeboks showed me that I have noting to hide. 

When I finished my junior year of cross country, I had a resolution. I wanted to get stronger over the winter. The shoes wore out. I stopped running for a month. I still consider that failure to be one of the biggest mistakes that I have made.

As soon as track season came, I bought another pair of DMXs. Only this time they were grey and blue. Less showy, but more willing to get the job done. I din't become that stronger a runner, but I became more goal oriented and mentally tough. I ran a 12:25 3200m. I was proud of that, but I was ready again to get better. Nothing really special happened to me, this, like my shoes was an unexciting time. 

Finally, tired of my drab Reeboks, I headed to Boulder, the origination of my last pair of cross country shoes: the white and blue pair of Asics. I think of them as my most mature looking pair of running shoes. They did not have any glitz or flash, they were just there to lead the rest of my body through the run. I was the team captain this year so I needed a pair of shoes that would help me do exactly that. These shoes were a fitting and sad end to my cross country career. As they sit in my closet, I can't help but get a little sad thinking of all the people in cross country who changed my life. It makes me think of all the encouragement I got from Coach Durant and Coach Shepherd. Those shoes, much like my cross country jersey will never be worn again. 

After Cross Country, I found myself in a strange state. I could decide not to do track, and never have to think about Arvada running again. 

Since I never quit anything before, I couldn't quit this. So I called on an old friend, I purchased my third pair of Reebok DMX shoes. They pushed me through this year. I needed that confidence that those shoes gave me. 

I am proud of everything I have ever done that has associated me with Arvada High School. Proud of the thousands of laps I ran around that awful track. Proud of the stack of shoes in my closet. Proud of the spike scar on the back of my right arm. Proud for every bead of sweat I have poured into the grounds of this school and the Jeffco track. Proud to be a captain. Proud to be moving on. 

Tomorrow track season will be over and I will have to go shoe shopping on my own. I can honestly say that I have no idea what my next shoes will be, but there is no doubt in my mind that the next shoes I buy will again change my life. Thanks AHS.