Dark places

It’s so common as to be a cliché: When you hear unthinkably bad news, your initial reaction is denial. No! This CAN’T be true! There must be some MISTAKE! So it was when I got a call from an old friend (and, I do mean OLD, as in 81 years old) that a mutual friend (much younger, at age 59) had taken his own life. No WAY. Can’t be true. Old man’s got his facts mixed up. I even got him to doubt himself, as we continued to talk. Are you SURE? Who TOLD you? Maybe he’s WRONG. But soon enough, the tragic news was confirmed. Gone. Gone. Gone. We had drifted apart, this friend and I. Admittedly, his life kind of went “off the rails” and he was haunted by demons – many of which were obvious, some of which obviously weren’t so clear to those of us no longer in his orbit. His passing has haunted my thoughts. We were friends. We spent time in each other’s company, often centered around running and other times around family. I’ve been unpacking the memories of happier times – Thursday night runs, followed by a casual beer in the high school parking lot; barbecues and kid birthdays; long weekend runs on the rural roads out where his family once lived; our family participating in the many local running events that he organized.

The point of this post is to reflect and give thoughts to the unthinkable. Please don’t try to console us; that’s not the point. This is not our loss. True loss, devastating emptiness, belongs to his immediate family – especially his two children. If you’re going to say an extra prayer, bow your head for them. As noted, our lives drifted apart. Not through any malice or hard feelings. It just happens. Our paths crossed less frequently, his life choices became a bit more erratic. We stayed in touch, but not frequently; we’d see each other here and there, exchange phone messages every once in a while. The news of his passing was jarring and shocking and surprising, but when we try to connect the dots of recent times, it became a bit more in the realm of possibilities – now, a little more than a week later, in hindsight. Still. What drives a man to enter such dark places? How does this happen? Didn’t he have so much to live for? Don’t we all have much to live for? These are thoughts that are inevitable, and yes they can be haunting, textbook, cliché for these things. Dark places. Who gets there and how does it unravel to that? There are no answers to these thoughts and questions, at least not ones that we’ll know. All we can do is lower our head, reflect, try to unpack complex emotions. And wonder.

Stack runs strong 10km in Ireland

Thanks to rising junior Conor Stack for sharing this photo from a 10km race he ran in Killarney, Ireland. Stack’s dad, Kieran, is a native or Ireland and they are back there visiting family (Kieran was also a record-setting, legendary runner at Iona back in the 1980s…). Anyway, Stack got second place in 33:32, with tempo-like splits of 5:20, 5:32, 5:36, 5:26, 5:26, and 5:18 and a brief report via email: “Felt pretty good and definitely felt good closing hard-ish. The course was pretty flat and downhill and there weren't really any hills. Still a good workout type effort in my book.” Agreed! And the Marist red and white go international for a day, which is cool.

Forever Foxes, now teammates ... Deet's debut with NYAC

Congrats to recent graduate Dietrich Mosel for starting his post-collegiate career in style, as part of the winning New York Athletic Club (NYAC) team at the New York Road Runners Club Championships 5-mile race in Central Park. Deet was their ninth man (9th man!) in 25:35. The top 10 score, and NYAC edged West Side for the top team honors in a hotly contested race. We are proud that Deet is running for such a great group as NYAC. Conor Shelley (pictured here with Deet) is also a NYAC team member (we don't need to post his time from yesterday's race now do we?) and helped pave the way for them to become teammates. He sent me this picture with the text that said: "Forever Foxes, Finally Teammates! Deet 9th NYAC athlete, Fat Boy Shelley at 28:22 under the same banner!" Oops. I guess I just did post Conor's time? Great stuff from the Marist/NYAC boys ...

Tops in the nation: First place in something!

Every year when we inevitably lead the MAAC in the number of All-Academic team members, I jokingly say that we have to be "first place in something" and it might as well be that (since we never win MAAC titles in track and extremely rarely in cross country, the last being in 2004 with the women). Well. Our men's track team took that to the limit as it was revealed a few days ago that Marist men's track tied for first place in the nation (among D1 teams) for team GPA. Our women, with a higher team GPA but stronger competition, were in the top 20. Check out this release on GoredFoxes.com for details. As always, we're keeping the student in student-athlete first and foremost here in Poughkeepsie. Neat.

Indian Ladder trail ladies

Thanks to recent alum Jenna Robinson for sharing this photo and texting me about the Indian Ladder Trail Run, an intense 15km trail race on the Helderberg Escarpment in the Capital District. Jenna said the course is "hilly, it was smothered in roots and mud, but it was a blast!" The women pictured took spots 2 through 5 in the race, using it as a long run. Along with Marist runners Denise Grohn, Emily Burns and Jenna, also in the picture are Lauren Farley (recent Marist grad, girlfriend of recent alum Sami Ellougani) and friend of the program Sarah Forman, a star runner at rival school Siena College. Very neat!

The slow death march of journalism

Unless you are a nerdy journalism wonk (like me), the announcement that the Daily News -- “New York’s Hometown Newspaper’’ -- cut 50 percent (50 friggin PERCENT) of its editorial staff on Monday was probably greeted with a collective yawn outside of the city. As the fine tradition of newspapers, upon which this very country was founded, continues its slow and steady demise, few are surprised and fewer care. A former editor of mine at the Poughkeepsie Journal, a brilliant man referenced in a recent blog post, used to say: “Colaizzo, remember that most readers are vicious, lazy and stupid. If you go by that premise, you’ll do fine.” Vicious, lazy and stupid. Sounds about right. These days, when journalists do their job with solid reporting and say something critical about Prominent People in the Country, they are lambasted as “fake news” or “failing” or, incredibly, “an enemy of the state.” The free press as an “enemy of the state” huh? Be careful what you wish for, people. It is in this climate that the famed Fourth Estate continues to crumble like a yellowed copy of an old newspaper in a box of decades old Christmas decorations. Newsflash, people: Journalism matters. Investigative journalism has been the driving force in unearthed sexual abuse scandals in all arenas (think USA Gymnastics, for starters, and go from there).

Hey, listen, I’m part of the problem as much as anyone. I read the Daily News and the New York Times every day. For free. On my phone, or my laptop. Both newspapers have put up pay walls, but I have been able to circumvent them through various not-so-clever means. I’m reading their content and not paying for it. Therein lies the conundrum of daily journalism: How to survive financially in the digital age. They haven’t figured it out, and as a result, fine men and women, many of whom have spent their lives in the industry, were sent packing on Monday. During the past decade, I experienced it myself at the Poughkeepsie Journal, where I worked for more than half of my life, watching a paper that once employed hundreds of people get whittled down to well under 100 folks; now, most of the "local" work at the Journal is not done by or from local sources at all. Seeing it on a larger scale – the Daily News pared its sports staff from 34 people to 9 people yesterday! – hits home and really saddens me and others who still care about the noble mission of the free press in this country (you know, the whole “checks and balances” thing). If you are so inclined, check out a vintage rant on ESPN Radio by Michael Kay, himself a former Daily News sportswriter. I don’t even like Michael Kay (my preference is Mike Francesa), but his poignant soliloquy sums it up. Kay pointed out that as institutions like the Daily News skitter into irrelevance, it chips away at our democracy and our way of life. Most people don’t care, but I would posit that we should. The fired editor of the Daily News, clearly bitter, wrote this on Twitter on Monday: “If you hate democracy and think local governments should operate unchecked and in the dark, then today is a good day for you.” He also dropped the Daily News affiliation from his Twitter bio. “Just a guy sitting at home watching journalism being choked into extinction,” it reads. Amen brother.

Newspapers have mattered to me my whole life. When I was growing up in northern New Jersey, delivering newspapers, I would read the Star Ledger and Daily Record on my handlebars as I pedaled around the neighborhood hurling the papers in plastic bags onto driveways. My heroes were not the baseball players being written about; rather, my heroes were the sportswriters chronicling them. I can still rattle off their names, just as quickly as I can give you Ron Guidry’s stat line from his epic 1978 season. One of those sportswriters, John Harper, was just fired from the Daily News yesterday. A long and distinguished career, extinguished in a second with a heartless, corporate decision. Sundays were special in my house, because we would get the big Sunday Daily News. I loved reading the “funnies” (the comics) and reading the list of Major League batting averages – all of them – which were only printed on Sundays. My grandfather Tatone (really, he was my father’s uncle, but he was like my grandfather) would walk a mile roundtrip each day, well into old age, to the deli down the street to get Il Progresso, the Italian language newspaper. When he died, we put a copy of that newspaper and a bottle of wine – two simple pleasures of his life – in the casket. Newspapers matter. Or, should I say, mattered. A sad day in a sad era for journalism.

Nothing sappy about this win

Congrats to Marist Running Alum Mike Guarascio (Mike G), who won 64 ounces of maple syrup in a small-town 5K in New Hampshire recently. G is training for the Maine Marathon in the fall and said he's using the marathon training fitness for some shorter races during the summer. And now? He can really enjoy the post-long-run pancakes. That's neat.

Farewell to Spencer

On Wednesday afternoon, I had a nice but bittersweet farewell lunch with now Marist Running Alum Spencer Johnson. Spencer just completed an amazing five-year run in our program as one of our most consistent racers -- and easily one of the nicest and kindest human beings to come through our program. Here’s the thing, though! We believe Spencer’s best steps are ahead of him, as he continues to tackle the longer race distances with earnest. Along with numerous other recent alums, Spencer will be targeting the NYC Marathon in November. This will be great, since Spencer is moving out to San Diego in a few weeks, and it’ll give him a reason/excuse to come back home. To say we will miss Spencer is a profound understatement. He will be a proud Forever Fox. Here’s a photo taken after his last race as a member of the Marist College track team, the 10km at IC4As in Princeton. His fellow 2017 graduates (he raced 2018 as a fifth-year graduate student) came back to watch his last race in red and white. But don’t worry. He’s got more races in the red-and-white alumni racing team singlet.

Red Fox family in Saratoga

So nice to get this photo from recent graduate Jenna Robinson, who reunited with her former Foxes Christine Coughlin and Brianna Freestone for a run at Saratoga State Park. Christine just headed back to Hawaii for year 2 of her teaching there. We will miss her, but it was great to see her back in the area recently.

Swift’s busy week

Marist Running Alum David Swift (Mr. Bucket) had a busy week last week. It started in his native Connecticut, where he won his age group at the Four on the Fourth race in Chester (24:42). A few nights later, he ran in the Mid-Hudson Road Runners Club Twilight Track Series in the 1,600-meter run, and then two days after that it was up to Utica, where he placed first in his age group in the 5K run (18:24) associated with the famed Boilermaker 15k. Along the way, he had time for a few Adult Beverages with family ... and even found an establishment close to his heart.

Foxes at the Boilermaker

Here’s a Foxes Photo of Marist runners at the Boilermaker 15km in Utica. Alum Omar Perez ran 55:46 (5:58, negative split effort). Rising seniors Dan Hillman ran 52:59 (5:41 pace) and Riley Hughes used the race as his long run and checked in at 1:01:08 (6:33 pace).

Patriotic in Rhode Island

Rising junior Connor Levins wins the award for most relevant racing outfit in Shelter Harbor, RI, where he won the local 5k (he had 3.2 miles on his watch) in 16:50.

Rivas races 8km in CT

Rising junior Chris Rivas finished third overall at the Firecracker 8km (roughly 5 miles) in Bethel in 27:10. Very humid and moderate hills was how Chris described the day.

Hogue wins 3k in Maine

Rising junior Alex Hogue enjoyed some family time in the 4^th and the 38^th annual Walter Hunt Memorial 3km road race in Brewer, Maine, in 9:04. He described the day as “about 90 degrees” … I guess you could say it was hotter than the 4^th of July?

Foxes at Bellmore Striders 4 miler

Current and former Foxes were well represented at the Bellmore Striders 4-miler on the 4^th of July on Long Island, where it was, to quote alum Sean Prinz, “hot as the dickens.” Recent graduate Dietrich Mosel was second (20:23), Prinz was fourth (21:22), rising sophomore James Moehringer was seventh (21:49) and recent graduate Joe Miller was ninth (22:15).

Canyon of heroes ...

You never know when you'll run into a former Running Red Fox. Mark Valentino and Nick Webster -- both championship caliber steeplers (Tino owns the school record!) and awesome distance runners (both sub-15:00 for 5km!) were never teammates, but they are Running Red Fox Brothers and they ran into each other at, of all places, the Grand Canyon! Wow! Tino hiked the Canyon rim to rim to rim (50 miles!) with his dad (Tom) and a friend (Guy). Amazing on many levels.

Chillin' at Citi Field

What an amazing surprise to run into Marist Track Alum Denis McManus on Saturday afternoon at Citi Field. Denis graduated in 2001 as one of the best track and field athletes -- jumps and hurdles -- that we have ever had. Denis was a brash and loyal athlete and he remains very loyal to us. He's still playing rec softball and basketball and remains very athletic. And extremely loyal to our team and our program. The Mets' game was a dud (as usual) but this chance encounter made the trip to Citi Field worthwhile and memorable.

101 at 101

Congrats to the mother-in-law of loyal Marist Running Alum Marty McGowan, who celebrated her 101st birthday earlier this month at the McGowan residence at 101 E. Raleigh in Staten Island. She looks great. God bless.

Summer, plugged and unplugged

Sorry for the lack of posts. Yeah. It's that time of year. Not spending much time in front of this here laptop. Not a bad thing, for sure! My son James has had a great few weeks ... until yesterday. The above photo was taken from a marathon pool party hosted by his All-Star baseball coach. His all-star run was excellent, but it just ended last week. They advanced farther than expected. So that's good. Yesterday in a freak mishap at a water slide in the Lake George area, he incurred a small chip fracture in his upper foot/ankle, so he is now relegated to wearing this big bulky boot for about a month (hopefully less). For an outdoors kinda kid, this is tough. Although! We just got done playing catch, so he'll stay active. Bummer. Summer goes on ...

Begin again …

There are really two “New Year’s days” on the calendar. There’s January 1, which starts the new calendar year. And there’s July 1, which starts the new fiscal year. Since this is not a financial blog, we’ll discuss why the July 1 “New Year’s Day” has meaning to us in the Marist Running world. The months of May and June are transitional in our world. There’s graduation, the end of another academic year, and the end of the outdoor track season, which culminates the three-season cycle. This year, the “championship season” was extended into June with our athletes at USATF Juniors and the USATF (senior) Championships. Now, those meets (and everything else) are over, and we turn our attention to the 2018-2019 academic (and running) year.

It was kind of fitting that we had our team BBQ a little earlier this summer, on Saturday, June 30 – a good capper on the 2017-2018 year. Several recent alums came back for one final hurrah with their (now former) teammates and it was great to see them. They are and always will be an integral part of our family. But in a few weeks, when we reconvene for preseason cross country camp, those men and women will not be here with us. It will be odd for us, but even more peculiar for them, as the rhythm of the sport and the academic year has guided their lives for, well, pretty much their entire lives. But alas, time marches on, and we now focus squarely on the next season. There’s always a next season. And so, we begin again, in my case for the 28^th year of coaching at Marist. We have finalized our XC schedule and it is below. The blog posts may be fewer in the coming weeks as we head into “summer mode” … but our minds are preparing to begin again. Again. Here’s the schedule.  

2018 Cross country schedule

Saturday, Sept 1: Marist Season Opener, Vassar Farm and Ecological Preserve

Saturday, Sept 8: Siena/Pre-MAAC meet at Colonie Crossings

Saturday, Sept 15: Rider Invitational at Rosedale Park

Saturday, Sept 29: Paul Short Run at Lehigh

Saturday, Oct 13: Lafayette Invitational (a new meet for us)

Saturday, Oct 27: MAAC Championships at Colonie Crossings

Friday, Nov 9: NCAA Northeast Regional at Buffalo

Saturday, Nov 17: ECAC/IC4A Championships at Van Cortlandt Park

Thoughts and prayers

For more than 26 years, I worked in a newsroom – at the Poughkeepsie Journal. There was only one time when I felt truly unsafe in that environment. It was early in my newspaper career; in fact, I was still a student at Marist College working at the Journal part-time, a few nights per week. One night, my editor assigned me to cover a rather contentious meeting of high school ice hockey coaches, across the street from the Journal at the Mid-Hudson Civic Center. This was more than 30 years ago, so the particulars of the meeting are long since lost to memory. I do remember being on the receiving end of dagger-like glares from some coaches, who clearly didn’t want some punk reporter in their presence. Like any diligent young journalist I listened, dutifully filled up my reporter’s notebook, and then walked back to the newsroom to write my story.

One of those angry coaches decided to follow me up to the newsroom; side note: most newsrooms are wide open workplaces with little to no privacy, so the night staff that night witnessed this whole thing. I didn’t have my own desk at the time, of course, but this guy thought it would be prudent to look over my shoulder as I wrote the story in the middle of the mostly deserted newsroom -- again, except for the night editors. I felt a bit intimidated, as you could imagine. I decided to summon my sports editor, a brilliant but “out-there” kind of guy from whom I learned a lot early in my career. My editor, Lou, was an intimidating dude. He looked a bit like Donald Sutherland. He was pretty tall, like 6-foot-3, with big bug eyes. He wore cowboy boots, cowboy jeans, a leather vest and he chain-smoked unfiltered Camel cigarettes (remember, this is the mid-1980s … way before smoke-free workplaces). Lou strolled over slowly, his boots clicking on the tile floor, taking deep drags from his Camels. He asked the coach what he thought he was doing. “Just makin’ sure the kid gets the facts right in his story,’’ he said. Lou suggested that the coach best be on his way (that’s probably how he said it, Clint Eastwood style). The guy didn’t move. I didn’t move. Lou got closer, his smoky breath and bug eyes peering down on the guy, and emphatically told him to get out of the newsroom. We had no security guards back then, but the guy eventually did leave after that. Lou looked at me, emotionless, big bug eyes, and gave me my marching orders: “Colaizzo, 12 inches, by 11 o’clock.” With trembling hands, I wrote the story. And that was that. I don't recall any feedback from that story, which is good. In journalism, you only get called when you screw up. No one ever calls to say "hey man, you got it right, good job." Journalists and "the media," especially these days, are punching bags. Comes with the territory.

Newsrooms are not supposed to be unsafe workplaces, but like everything else in our society they very much can be, and last week in Annapolis, Maryland, a newsroom was shot up with casualties and injuries and well, you know the deal by now: Thoughts and prayers have been offered (and will be offered). How nice. Thoughts and prayers. These days, there is such a hostile attitude among many toward the “media” … but I’m certain no one would wish this on any newsroom anywhere. The suspect who most likely did this – the armed coward was found hiding under a desk in the building – had a long history of being pissed off at this particular newspaper. These days, it seems like everybody’s pissed off about something or at someone, always. Arm a pissed-off person and you get what we got in Annapolis. Or Vegas. Or San Bernadino. Or that church in Texas. Or Sandy Hook. You get the idea.

Memo to elected officials: Enough with the thoughts and prayers. Really. You all have the power to effect change. Do something. Thoughts and prayers sound nice and in fact they are nice. But they’re not all that effective when the smoke clears. Here’s my hope: I hope that we can all stop being so angry all the time – at each other, at each other’s “tribe,” at the media, at all of it. Let’s play nice every once in a while, OK? And maybe once in a while we can offer thoughts and prayers before we actually have to offer thoughts and prayers.