The accidental miler

Along with every other entrant in the first section of the men’s mile at last Friday’s MAAC meet at the Armory, Brian Townsend was a bit player in one of the more remarkable track performances most of us had ever witnessed: Iona runner Mitch Goose’s 3:59.26 in the “slow” section of the mile, setting a MAAC record and winning the event from the “slow” section.

Brian is a senior captain on our team, a loyal and hard-working long distance runner. Casual followers of our program, alumni and friends who perhaps track our results online from a distance, might be wondering two things about Brian: 1. What in heaven’s name is he doing running in a mile race, for the second week in a row, no less; 2. Why is he only running 4:38.02 (at BU) and 4:40.67 (at MAACs)? These are times that, under better circumstances, could and should be 1,600-meter splits for Brian in longer races like 3km and maybe even 5km.

Ah yes. True, all of that. Call him the accidental miler. Sometimes, there is far more to the story than a line of agate type in the results, or a pile of endless splits on this fancy blog.

First off, let’s make this point very clear: Brian Townsend is not a miler. Never has been a miler. But his presence in the mile, in what would turn out to be the final two indoor track races of his college career, tells you more about his character than 4:38.02 and 4:40.67 ever can.

Truth be told, Brian had no business being on the track. Most guys – non-runners, certainly, but even a lot of runners I know – would barely be jogging at this point. You see, our accidental miler had a little detour on his path to 8-plus laps on these fancy indoor ovals.

Our accidental miler was training great throughout the late fall and winter. Brian was cranking high miles. He was busting through phenomenal tempo runs. He even was doing some high quality track workouts during the Christmas holidays down on snow-less and sunny Long Island. We were geared up for fast and fun times in track.

But life sometimes has a way of interrupting our best-laid plans, doesn’t it?

There was this stomach bug going through the team during the winter intersession. We figured some idiot guy undercooked some chicken during one of the many team meals. Brian was down for the count. No big deal, right? Take a couple of days to get over it. Only, it wasn’t some pesky stomach bug. Rather, it was a pesky (and totally useless) internal organ – the appendix.

Emergency surgery followed. The doctor ordered complete rest from “strenuous activities” for several weeks.

For someone like Brian – many of us, really – such orders are akin to a prison sentence. Brian took it as well as could be expected, but he bargained for early parole. He’s back at it, much sooner than most in mainstream medicine probably would recommend.

With my urging, he is proceeding with caution, all the while pushing the envelope, as they say. We have had a few contentious “discussions” throughout this process. I’m more than willing to put together a painful training schedule for him, but his long-term well-being is far more important than rushing back unnecessarily too fast.

We have struck a delicate balance. He’s back to working hard. As hard as he can for now. It’s full steam ahead to outdoor track. Who knows what this process will bring. Will he PR? Will he get hurt? Will he score at a championship meet? Will he be way off his anticipated fitness levels?

All are possibilities. Every one of them, and everything in between.

But the beauty of our accidental miler is that he is willing to try, even at the great risk of failure. Some would call this stubbornness. For an athlete at the end of his collegiate career, after a major and unexpected surgery, this qualifies as “courageous” in my book.

And no matter what the next few weeks and months brings, let the record show that I’m really proud of my accidental miler.