Toughness ... I'm just going to go for it.

Before I came to King, I was the head coach at Ayala High School in Chino Hills and had the pleasure of coaching a bunch of really good kids and great runners. One of those was Greg Harris who I saw thru his junior year before I jumped ship to come to Riverside.

I liked Greg right away. He was a quiet, unassuming guy, but willing to do whatever it took to succeed, and in fact he did! He wasn't oozing talent like a few do; he had a PR at MT.SAC in the mid-16:00's as I recall and ran 16:26 at Woodward Park in Fresno. But he made the most with what he had, and you could count on Greg to take it hard all the way to the line and not leave anything behind.

He was fun to watch ... even more fun to coach.

Greg's now 26 and living in Utah, married and a father. He's doing well. He ran in college and has recently taken up marathoning, and on Monday of this week, he ran the 113th Boston Marathon. I looked up his result, 2:46:29 (6:21 per mile for 26.2 miles! ... and Boston is NOT flat) and was impressed so emailed him with my congratulations.

He replied with a note and a copy of a blog he had written about his race experience. It is a powerful piece ... a great description of a tough guy fighting through a tough day and, typically, giving it everything he had.

I encourage you to read it. I've highlighted some parts that jumped off the screen at me and hopefully will inspire and motivate you as well. Look for, especially, how determined he was to not let a "poor pace" linger. I wish you all could have met Greg, but maybe through these words of his, you'll get a glimpse of why he made Ayala Cross Country a much better team. And yes, I got his approval to post this.


If I seem a little disappointed with the results, the race was still a great experience. First let me say how awesome Boston is. They support their sports teams and this race in an unbelievable way.

Part 1:
miles 0-10. I went out at a 6:05. I don't have all of my splits because my Garmin lost reception. There was a big pack of 25 or so that formed. We hit miles 2 and 3 in about 5:50 each. I knew that this was a little fast for my fitness. So I looked back to see if there was another pack to drop back to. Nope, just small groups. I realized that with the wind picking up that 5:50 miles in this pack was going to be as easy and 6:00 miles on my own. So i hung in there. It was not too hard, but i knew that it would take its toll. Then i thought, this is Boston, I may never do this again. I am just going to go for it. So the pack kept rolling along. We hit mile 10 in 59 minutes and change.

Part 2:
Miles 10-18 At mile 10, the club runners that were leading the pack decided to bump it up to 5:40 pace. I knew that I would be dead by 15 if i went with them. So I held pace. However, the rest of the pack quickly dispersed. I tried to form little groups, but it did not work well. I was still feeling good though.

We went through Wellesley. That was cool. No kisses, just high 5's for me. One girl tried to jump out and grab me. I saw some girls that I would guess did not get any kisses despite their best efforts. I hit the half in just under 1:18. I knew that a reasonable positive split would give me 2:39-2:41. So I just kept rolling along. The hills started at 17. The first one was not too bad. However, the cold wind was really whipping around by now. I had ditched my long sleeve shirt, gloves, and beanie by mile 5.

Part 3:
Miles 18-26.4 Now the hills started to take their toll. By Heartbreak Hill, the wind was bad. I was running by myself. I could not latch on to the continuous small groups that was pass every minute or so. I dropped to about 7:00 pace. I knew that running 7:00 at mile 20 is not a good sign. That would mean 8:00 pace by the end. So I decided that would not happen today. It is probably the toughest that I have been tested mentally and physically. The hills ended, and at least I had some downhill to keep me moving. I also had my name written on my jersey, so the crowd kept me going. I started to get light-headed and dry-heaved from time to time. As i got closer to the finish line, I was counting down the minutes of pain left. We finally made the turn onto Bolyston Street. A couple of more groups passed me. The crowds were great. However, by that point, and for the last few miles, I had been getting light-headed and had blurry vision. I had been getting a lot of GU, water, and Gatorade, so I'm not sure why this happened. So i started to swerve and stagger as I came down the home stretch.

With less than 100m left, the announcer said, "Here comes Greg Harris in a tight race down the stretch!" I looked to my left. There was a guy that I shall name Mr. Lurpy. I did not have a lot of will power left, but I knew one thing. Mr Lurpy would not beat me today. After I looked over, Mr. Lurpy started kicking with his long lanky legs. I responded and barely got him at the line. Then I fell to my knees and stayed there for a minute. My final 10K was 43-44 min. Better than it could have gotten i guess.

Part 4:
Post-race "fun." After i got up, my world was spinning. I staggered around as many volunteers asked if i was OK. I said sure i have been "here" before. Cramped legs, cold clammy skin, and nausea. Sure, no problem. I was getting really cold by this time. The coldness started at about mile 15 and just got worse and worse. As i walked now, i heard spectators talking about how cold the wind was. I knew that my dad would not be done for 45 min. so I looked for a place to get warm. I saw the big med tent. I staggered in there and asked if i could sit down. They were concerned because i was pale and wobbly. So I sat down and closed my eyes. They kept trying to force broth down me. They took my temp and i was 92 degrees. They wanted to call my wife, lay me down, and maybe give my an IV. I declined and said I would be fine. They did not believe me and said that no one with a 92 degree temp. was fine. So I just sat there wrapped in 2 blankets for 45 min. At that time, I announced that I was leaving. They said no, your temp. is still only 94. I said, yes I am leaving. I have to meet my dad. I will never find him if i dont leave now. So the doctor agreed to sign it as she shook her head. I found my dad about 5 min. later, so I was glad that I had insisted on leaving. After another hour of riding on the subway and sitting in the hot tub (oh yeah! No ice bath for me!) I was good to go.

Now that I have had a day to reflect on the race, I am not as disappointed. I have learned that bad weather is just lame and it is what it is. My last 3 marathons have had lame weather. The thing that bugged me is that 2:39 would have gotten me 160th place. Add 7 minutes for my 2:46 and I got 322nd place. That sucks. But I am confident that I did the best I could have. I have no regrets. This is one of my only half or full marathons where I can honestly say that I could not have gone harder at any point in the race. That is satisfying to know. Now it is time to rest up and make one last BIG push at St. George.