Women's race = 11 a.m.
Men's race = 12 noon
Spectators are allowed, but with restrictions on contact with team members before and after the race. Wear a mask, socially distanced, etc.
Our student-athletes are back on campus or in the area (for off-campus student-athletes). They will get Covid tested on Monday, we'll have team practices on Tuesday and Wednesday (our first in about four months), board busses on Thursday morning for the AC area and race on Friday. It'll be interesting, for sure!
Thank you to concerned blog followers who have reached out to wonder what was going on with Covid at our house since last week’s post. In short? Not much. And, a lot. At the same time. If that makes any sense. I’m learning a lot about contact tracing, quarantines, isolations and all that stuff. Without going into great detail? Let’s just say it’s an “inexact science” and leave it at that. OK. So. Where are we at? Heidi (my wife) and James (our youngest son), Covid veterans both, have been released from quarantine/isolation, as of today. This doesn’t exactly mean they’re gonna plan a kegger anytime soon, you know? Heidi went to Rite Aid. That was quite an outing. For her next trick, she might venture to the grocery store. Wow! Such excitement! But seriously, folks …
Heidi’s symptoms have abated to simple, yet profound, fatigue. This will probably linger for a while. She sleeps a lot, gets tired easily. For a soon-to-be 53-year-old woman … in the continuum of Covid … we’ll take it. James’ symptoms were mild all along and he seems to be doing fine. Also sleeping a lot, and not exactly looking to do a lot outside of strumming his guitar mindlessly, planning his next woodworking projects and attempting to do his homework. We still have a lot of snow on the ground here; not a lot we can be doing outside. Again, we’ll take it. Our daughter Natalie? On Sunday morning, she announced that she woke up to a “scratchy throat.” Uh-oh. Scratchy throat became sore throat became I can’t sleep my throat hurts a lot became headache became tired and lethargic. Off we go to urgent care for their drive-thru testing on Monday morning. The ladies there? They know me! Oh. You again? Yup. Me again. Rapid test = negative. This is good news. Until it’s not. Two days later, yesterday, still with symptoms … PCR test = positive. That makes three active Covid cases in one house in a little more than one week. This virus is impressive!
The Old Man typing this post? As of this writing, I am not presenting with symptoms – unless you count worrying about my family and fretting over the dogs – and I have not tested positive. I visited my friends at urgent care again – we had another pleasant reunion this morning – and the rapid test today was negative. Based on earlier this week, we know that this information is about as valuable as a twice-used paper coffee cup from Stewart’s. We await the PCR results, and we have another expedited, 24-hour-turnaround PCR test scheduled for Monday morning at the Hospital Formerly Known As St. Francis, across from Marist.
Which leads us to the next topic, a bit more relevant to the title of this blog (Marist Running). Alert readers might recall that next Friday, March 5 (eight days from now, #yikes), in Atlantic City, we (Marist women’s and men’s XC) will be participating in the MAAC Winter XC Championships at Seaview golf course down there. The bus departure for both teams is Thursday morning, March 4, approximately 9:30 a.m. If all goes well with the Old Man typing this post – all goes well = no symptoms and two negative PCR test results – the first time I will see our team in about four months will be … on the bus, on the way to Atlantic City, for a conference championship like no other. My latest, endless quarantine ends on midnight on Wednesday, March 3. If I feel OK and the test results back that up, I could be free to go play coach, in person, for a few days. Hopefully, I'll remember how to operate a stopwatch. Hopefully, I'll be able to FIND a stopwatch.
Think about the bizarre uniqueness of this possible confluence of random occurrences. We have been the only team in the MAAC that is not practicing and/or competing actively in the sport of cross country for the month of February, in preparation for this March 5 championship. To emphasize: All other teams in the MAAC have been practicing, and in most cases even racing, for the past several weeks. Your Running Red Foxes have not. In fact! For those keeping score at home (and I know you are!), our last official practice on campus, as a team, was Sunday, November 1. Again, for you math majors out there, that’s two days before Election Day. That’s a long time ago. Getting back to the present: When we are permitted to return for team activities, next Monday, March 1, I will still be in what seems like an endless patch of quarantine, as noted above. So, the few practices we will have as a team, leading up to the championship, will be in a coach-less atmosphere, at least on the men’s side. No pun-spewing, coffee-swilling wiseass in desperate need of grooming will be in the vicinity of practice next week. Fortunately for the women and any other practices which he can get to, Coach Chuck will be around to run the show. Thank goodness for that!
On Friday, March 5, the women’s championship race goes off at 11 a.m. The men’s race goes off at 12 noon. The course consists of a 2km loop on the golf course down there – women do three laps, men do four laps. The Running Red Foxes will be there, God willing, with pretty much no formal team preparation and definitely no in-person, formal guidance from the director of the program. To paraphrase the title of one of my favorite books, this whole deal is a drunkard’s walk of randomness (check out the book “The Drunkard’s Walk: How Randomness Rules Our Lives,” by Leonard Mlodinow). Virus restrictions. Virus cases. Q-tips stuck up our noses. Zoom calls. Texts. More Zooms. More texts. Calls and texts from contact tracers. More Zooms. More texts. More Q-tips. Hey man. We’re Marist Running. This is what we do. If we can Be There? We’ll Be Better.
A few random thoughts from Isolation Row:
--When it snows
and you’ve got nowhere to go, shoveling is not a huge priority.
--Not driving
anywhere for days at a time is really weird.
--The ability to
have food delivered in multiple ways to the house is a true blessing.
--When you leave
a stick of butter within paw’s grasp on the kitchen counter, and you live with
three ravenous dogs, that stick of butter is history. Man, they’re like
animals!
--When you open a
bag of potato chips and you live with three ravenous dogs, you create an
instant Fan Club.
--The furnace is
constantly firing. We are burning through fossil fuel (oil) at an alarming
rate.
--You would think
we would be “getting a lot done” in terms of organizing. Not. It’s very
difficult to get into a “routine” and the days are very “scattered.”
Oh. Wait. Did I mention? We are currently at two (2) Covid-positive members of our household – wife Heidi and youngest son James. The odds are stacked against daughter Natalie (whose return to Siena for the spring semester has been obviously delayed) and The Old Man Writing This (this seems like one, big Grand Finale of home-bound isolation during the past 11 months … like a final exam or something!). Having to isolate two out of the four current residents (Joey is down on Long Island) in a 2,100-square-foot home is, uh, challenging. Not impossible, but not easy either. Heidi’s symptoms are moderate (loss of taste/smell, very fatigued, congestion) and slightly improving, but she’s not young and this isn’t “just a cold or a flu,” so of course we’re concerned. James’ symptoms are mild right now. But again, there’s a lot about this virus that we just don’t know. This shit’s real, and now it has found its way to our dead-end street in Hyde Park.
Staying calm is recommended. However, when a contact tracer nicely asked “where did your wife contract the virus,” I kind of snapped. Where did she get the virus? Let’s see: Maybe it was the 53 unmasked people we had over the house for the Super Bowl? (Not). Maybe it was karaoke night at the local brew pub? (Not). Maybe it was a family dinner out at the local diner? (Also, not!) While we have not been living cloistered at home (as we are now) through this pandemic, we have also been taking it seriously. No one but family inside the home. Quick trips to public places, always masked – doctors’ appointments, the public library (me!), grocery store, Home Depot, church, etc. We do go to work (Heidi way more than me) and we do go to school. Again, always masked. So, who knows. Where did you contract the virus? In this case, that’s like asking deep, eternal questions with no clear-cut answers: What’s the meaning of life? What’s causing climate change? Is the universe infinite? How come Marist doesn’t have a track? For all these questions and more, I have at least another week to ponder them. At home!
Not that you need weather play-by-play, but this has been an unusually relentless winter. It started with a huge snowstorm in December, ensuring we would have a white Christmas and snowy landscape for months. Until a freak Christmas rainstorm and 60 degrees magically wiped the ground clean of the white stuff. And then we went almost a month where we could see the grass and walk the dogs without multiple layers of flannel. January was, for the most part, pretty mellow. Until it wasn’t.
And now? We have an unrelenting barrage of cold weather and snow, and this morning perhaps the worst thing to wake up to: Sheets of ice everywhere. Ellie the puppy, as is her wont, was up earlier than anyone cared to deal with (except for the Old Man in the flannel shirt), yelping happily at 5:02 a.m. I went to let her out and she skittered down the icy steps like me on roller skates. More snow coming on Thursday. And it’s been cold, cold, cold. And there are cross country and track meets on the schedule. And we’re not going. Until we are, on March 5. Which, by the way, is just a little over two weeks away. March is less than two weeks away. February has little redeeming value – it is, by far, my least favorite month of the year – but at least it has one thing going for it: It’s only 28 days (even leap years are OK at 29 days), and more than half of them have been mercifully checked off the calendar.
Take us back to high school and
before that. What was your athletic background? What sports did you play growing up? When did you start running
track and when did that become your primary sport? Tell us about your high
school track career -- where did you go to high school, what were your events
in track, highlights, etc.
How did you become interested in Marist and what was your college search process like initially? As a sprinter, did our lack of facilities hamper your view of Marist?
Tell us about your time as a member of our track team! Again, as a sprinter, your group faces special challenges and obstacles. How were you able to manage that? What are some of your favorite highlights from that and/or
things that were especially challenging for you? What are some of your favorite meet memories and teammate memories
and Coach Terry memories?
I inquired about the track team
when I arrived at Marist and consulted with a team member at that time, but
ultimately made the decision not to run track my freshman year. I decided to
walk on to the team my sophomore year, which was one of the best decisions I
made at Marist. Running track at Marist definitely had its ups and downs for
me. I suffered a number of injuries which limited my time to run during some
seasons, but overall, I grew so much as a runner and a person. Despite Marist
not having a track, I think Coach Terry or Uncle Terry as we called him, did a
fantastic job of giving us creative and tough workouts to prepare us. It was
also helpful to have a group of teammates that were encouraging and had fun
during workouts, while still being able to hold a certain intensity about their
training. What was really helpful to me was pushing myself during lift, doing
abs every day, and pushing myself to run with the 400m runners when on longer
runs to build my stamina. Having teammates to help keep my accountable to put
my all into workouts was also so important for my preparation for meets. Some
of my favorite memories include van rides to and from the Vassar Track,
mealtimes after practices, and lifts with Coach Suma. I also really enjoyed
cheering on my teammates and seeing them succeed at meets and being there to
give hugs and congratulations at the finish line.
What was your major at Marist and how did that prepare you for your post-Marist times? What are some of your academic highlights at Marist -- favorite
classes, professors, things that you feel helped you the most?
At Marist, I started out as an
Athletic Training major, but switched to Social Work with a minor in sociology.
Marist has a really great Social Work program which did a fantastic job at
creating a solid base for me as a social worker. My intern experience at Marist
was great in preparing me for my grad school and professional career. Some of
my favorite classes were my social work and sociology electives, Children’s
Literature, and my two history courses on the African Diaspora. Some of my
favorite professors were Dr. Isabel Rose, Dr. Justin Myers, and Dr. Michael
Panzer.
Tell us about your post-graduate path, your completion of your masters degree this summer (yay!) and what you have been doing since graduation and are doing now?
During graduate school, I
interned at an outpatient youth and family center doing play therapy and family
therapy with children and families impacted by trauma. I was also the Field
Representative on the executive board of the Council for Students of Color
which allowed me to advocate for students of color who faced unique
circumstances of racism, discrimination, and hardships during their
internships. In that role I successfully advocated for, helped create, and saw
into fruition field seminars which were affinity spaces for students of color,
which I consider to be one of my biggest accomplishments during my time at
Smith. Since graduation in August 2020, I registered as an Associate Clinical
Social Worker and was hired in October by Communicare Health Centers as a
Behavioral Health Clinician. As a clinician, I do assessments, diagnose,
triage, and case management with adult clients struggling with serious mental
illness (SMI) and unhoused individuals.
How has the pandemic affected your life -- personally and professionally? Where do you live and how has the pandemic affected your area? The pandemic obviously has had an impact on our program at Marist.
What words of encouragement can you share with current team members to support
them during this challenging time?
To the current team members who
are facing an unexpected turn of events during their season: everything happens
for a reason. As someone who was injured multiple times, missed a full season
of track my first year, and finished my collegiate track career with an injury
that limited my ability to run, trust me when I say everything will happen just
as it is supposed to. Life often throws us curve balls, and the only way to
make it through is to allow yourself to feel what you feel without judgment,
come to terms with the new circumstances, and find a way to thrive despite the
circumstances. Things are different right now, but different does not always
mean bad. Find joy in the little things: being able to spend time with your
teammates, finding new and creative ways to work out and keep your competitive
edge, and making memories that you can look back and smile on.
The year 2020 just ended. A lot happened throughout the year. What
are some of your memories -- good, bad, in between -- about all that occurred
during these past 12 months?
Where do you see things headed -- short-term and long-term -- and do you have optimism for 2021?
I definitely have some optimism for 2021! I have a lot of goals that I have set for myself and are laying down
the foundations for a happy and healthy year. Short term, I see myself continuing to work in my present position at my job, learning and growing as a social worker, and continuing my involvement in my community, particularly in
supporting the Sac Fridge For All organization, which hosts community fridges in the greater Sacramento Area. In 2021, I hope to get back into the swing of working out more regularly. Working out took a back seat in my life in 2020, and I am determined to bring it back to the forefront. After a rough start to my fitness goals in 2021, getting rhabdomyolysis, I am slowly easing myself back into working out, prioritizing listening to my body and its needs. Long term, I see myself moving into a more permanent position that allows me to work with children and families doing play therapy and family therapy. I also have plans to start a Ph.D. program in the next five years, so we will see how that all works out!
It’s been a little less than two months since safe and effective mRNA Covid vaccines have been approved and administered, the so-called “light at the end of the tunnel” of this nearly year-long pandemic. So. Where do we stand with the vaccine distribution? In my simplistic worldview, speaking with people I know and reading from trusted sources and being a resident of New York State, from this perspective it feels like there are three pathways:
1. Those who have received one or both doses of the vaccine. To you, I say: Congratulations! Good for you! It should provide you with protection, some measure of relief and get us all one step closer to the end of this thing once and for all.
2. Those who have not received the vaccine and who do not plan to receive the vaccine due to concerns about its safety and possible long-term side effects. To you, I say: I respect your stance, and in some ways envy you for being spared the stress, confusion and anxiety of …
3. Those of us (yes, myself included) who are extremely eager to get the vaccine, who qualify for receiving the vaccine (I belong in the 1b cohort in New York State, being an “in-person college instructor”) and who are finding that making an appointment for the vaccine is more difficult than getting Springsteen concert tickets. To you (and to me), I say: Come on, man! Hurry up! How can this be? Ooops. Sorry. That’s the petulant, immature self that rears its ugly head, inside my head, most days of the week. Let’s try that again. To you (and to me), I say: Be patient. It’ll be readily available in due time. And when it is? We’ll all be closer to the end of this thing.
The concert tickets analogy is funny, actually. I got an email the other day, saying that the Dutchess County web site was going live at 12 noon for vaccine registration at two local sites. The appointments filled up in seconds. I was frantically and maddeningly clicking, cursing at the “no appointments available at this site” message, manically refreshing my browser, wondering why the dogs were barking like crazy downstairs (I’d like to think they shared my frustration, but rather it was just the mail carrier doing his job and the dogs doing their jobs). There was one Web site, a few weeks ago, where I found an appointment. It was exciting … until I realized the appointment was for late March. In Binghamton. No thanks. I might actually be back to coaching in person by then. I know some Marist professors who are so eager to get the vaccine that they are driving to Syracuse, to Plattsburgh, to Potsdam, for future appointments. There seems to be a certain randomness to this. A few folks I know were like, “oh yeah, I got an appointment, no problem, I’m getting my second dose next week!” So maybe it’s a user error (me) that is inhibiting me from ascertaining a vaccine appointment. But make no mistake. I want me a sore arm, times two. As soon as possible!
When Murph’s daughter Kayla ran for Niagara a few years ago, we were able to reconnect, and he talks about that in his long and beautiful interview answers. I remember one MAAC XC meet at Holmdel, toward the end of men’s race, nervously pacing and jogging. Out of nowhere, Murph appeared. We hugged and he stayed with me, calming my nerves and I know he was secretly rooting for his old school (hey, it wasn’t his daughter’s race!). We were scared freshmen, two doors down in a mostly empty and sweaty Champagnat Hall in August of 1982 (holy crap, that’s almost 40 years ago!), at the beginning of XC preseason. We became friends quickly and that has endured the test of time. The vision of a post-middle age dude shuffling around his home in Erie with a coffee mug and punching up this blog every morning makes me smile. Hey Murph, enjoy that coffee a bit more this morning, because this one is for you, brother.
Take us way, way back: When,
how and why did you start running? What other sports did you play growing up
and when did running take primary focus?
As a kid in Fayetteville, NY, I
played all the “normal” sports growing up in the 1970s, Little League baseball,
parochial school basketball and volleyball, and even tried football for a
season, but really didn’t excel at any. Coincidentally, my teammate on
those grade school teams was Paul Kelly. He was a year behind, but
we would continue to be teammates all through high school and then at
Marist. For me, running didn’t enter the equation until high school where
I my life took a different direction.
You ran for a legendary program
and a legendary coach at CBA Syracuse. Tell us about that experience, how it
shaped you as a runner and your fondest memories, highlights and PRs from your
high school days.
Sort of side note: Section 3
has long been a powerhouse for XC and track. Why do you think that is and have
you still followed it through the years (FM's success, etc.)?
I think Section 3 is so strong
due to coaches like Jerry Riordan, who was at CBA for 20-plus years and then at
Henninger for the remainder of his career. We were fortunate to have
several coaches in the area like Mr. Riordan, John Holm at Corcoran and George
Constantino at Nottingham that could have coached at the collegiate
level. Also, being away from the area for 30-plus years, Syracuse is a
great place to train. Back in the 1980s, Syracuse University wasn’t the
nationally recognized program it is today, but the area around it had ample
places to train with lots and lots of hills and different surfaces. I’ll
never forget that we used to run a hill we called Tar Baby. It had to be
close to a mile long on pure asphalt which in the summer was brutal. You
could feel the heat rise off the road surface. If you could tackle a few
reps on Tar Baby, you could handle anything. That taught me another
running “lesson” that doing hills built strength.
How, when and why did you choose
Marist College? Were you recruited for running?
At CBA, every year we traveled
to Van Cortlandt Park for the Manhattan College Invitational, and sometimes the
Christian Brothers Invite. I have fond memories of those trips running at
Vanny like climbing up Heartbreak Hill, the burned out car that used to be in
the back hills, and the clogged Burger King bathroom on Broadway.
BTW… the best pizza in the world is at a shop on Broadway right across
the street from the finish line. It was on these trips that I that I came
across Marist by way of Manhattan College. When I was looking at
colleges, I had an on-campus visit at Manhattan the fall of my senior
year. On our way home from that visit, driving up Route 9, we literally
stumbled on to Marist and decided to stop. I had received some materials
from Marist, but was not recruited. On campus, my Dad was able to get an
ad hoc meeting with James Daley, the Dean of Admissions, that afternoon.
I was sold on Marist after that hour discussion. Jim Daley then helped me
get in contact with the then XC Coach Bob Mayerhofer. Guess the rest is
history. I joined the team as a walk on, like you, in August of 1982.
My recollection of the first
few days/weeks of the Fall 1982 semester were that you and I were sort of shy,
scared and feeling out of place kind of kids. That was MY experience anyway!
What was your transition to college and college life like. I know it's only
38.5 years ago, but try to remember!
Yes, 38 years is a very, very
long time ago. I think that you are spot on that we were a bit timid as
we began our time at Marist. I remember that we both walked on to the team
and by chance were assigned rooms only two doors away from one another in
Champagnat. I’ll never forget meeting you and walking down to McCann for
that first team practice. Yeah, we were shy and a bit scared too! I
think what made it easy joining that team were the upperclassmen. Guys
like Mike McGuire, our captain, Kenny Bohan and Pat Mulrain were great.
They were very welcoming and treated us more like peers opposed to
underclassman. It was great to start our college experience two weeks
before everyone else as we “experts” in campus life before school even
started. But I’ll never forget how we were treated by our
upperclassmen. I took that to heart when I was a junior and senior tried
to lead by their incredible examples.
We shared a lot of miles and a
lot of memories in our four years together. Try to parse it down to a few
personal highlights -- academically, athletically, etc. What are some of your
biggest memories, milestones, PRs, etc.
I just loved to run across the
Mid-Hudson Bridge into and around Highland. I think that we had a 10-mile
circuit across the bridge we did regularly. I remember this one very
windy day where the gusts had to be over 50 mph. We almost got blown off
the bridge and everyone was laughing as we plodded over it, except you. I
think you were grimacing the entire way afraid the wind would take you
over. The early morning van rides down to Van Cortlandt, Sunday afternoon
Dutchess Hill loops, and the late dinners in the cafeteria were all memorable,
but I think the highlight were the people I met, especially on our
teammates. I know that I’ll forget someone so I’m not going to try, but
the men and women I had to pleasure to train, race and live with were
incredible. What’s even more rewarding is to see the people each of them
have become. Not just runners, but professionals, parents and most
importantly good people.
Pulling on the same thread: Try
to tell our younger readers what it was like to be a XC/distance runner on the
Marist College team, circa 1982-1986. What was it like?
I bet very different from
today. While an established program at Marist, we were just a men’s team
with a dozen or so athletes, very little scholarship money and a part-time
coach, Bob Mayerhofer. We lived in those old red Marist vans racing
at Vanny frequently. I remember our big meet at that time was to travel
to South Bend for the annual National Catholic Cross Country Championships at
Notre Dame. Only the top 7 runners traveled to the meet as making the
team my freshman year was a highlight. Our sophomore year, we wandered
around Notre Dame’s Athletic & Convention Center. Out of nowhere,
Digger Phelps, the legendary basketball coach for the Irish, noticed out team
jackets and approached us. He invited us into his office where he
proceeded to chat with us as he knew about Marist being originally from the
Hudson Valley. We got the attached photo with him, quite aged, after our
meeting.
We have several coaches during our time at Marist, most notably
Steve Lurie for the last three years. Steve was quite a character and we still
talk about him a lot. Tell us some of your memories of him as a coach, of his
running camp (Beginning Trails!) and anything else ...
You know that the more time
passes, the more I appreciate what Steve Lurie tried to teach us. He
cared immensely about each of us. He had the challenging task of dealing
with a bunch of 20-year-olds who thought they knew more about the sport than
what we really did. I think of Steve, like I do you, Jerry Riordan, and
all coaches, as teachers. You instruct and guide us on how to perform at
our highest ability, both mentally and physically, while instilling upon us
values like hard work, persistence, and team. Steve Lurie typified the
“teacher/coach.” He also knew everyone in the sport at the time. I
was lucky enough with my teammate, Pete Pazik, to attend, as a spectator, the 1983
5th Avenue
Mile. Steve was coaching a runner entered in the race, Jama Aden.
Coincidentally, Aden is still in the sport and now an international coach under
some scrutiny. Not only did we get to watch the race from a VIP position,
but we got to attend the athletes’ gala that evening. I remember Pete and
I just looking at each other as stood in the elevator with Joan Benoit
Samuelson. That’s the year before she won the 1984 Olympic marathon in LA
and then sitting at the table with several US and international
Olympians. It was an incredible day for a running geek like myself, which
I owe all to Steve.
What was your major at Marist?
What are some of your favorite memories academically -- favorite courses,
professors, etc.?
I was a Mass Communications
major and interned in our Sports Information department. I had aspirations
to work for the US Olympic Committee, but they never materialized. I did
make it to the USOC Headquarters in Colorado Springs a few years ago which was
huge. My favorite course was Public Speaking with Jeptha Lanning.
He was an amazing teacher and taught me so much on how to handle myself in
front of a one person or one hundred people. I do a lot of presentations
in my job today and use those lessons from Dr. Lanning all the time. I
also have tremendous respect for David McCraw, who taught journalism. I
learned how to write from him and to succinctly convey your point.
In our Journalism 101 class, he used to have us read the front page of every
section of the New York Times daily. He’d quiz us regularly on the
current events. While I took a break for probably 25-plus years, I
started to read the front page of the Times and start my day with it and your
blog. Finally, while not a professor, Father Richard LaMorte had a big
influence in my days at Marist. He was and I believe up until a few years
ago our school chaplain. He taught me so much about life, chiefly that
nobody is perfect and it’s human to make mistakes. That’s life.
It’s how you respond to adversity that will define your success and how you are
as a person. What is amazing about Father LaMorte is that he seems to
come back in my life at times when I need a dose of his wisdom. A good
lifelong friend and mentor.
What did you THINK you were
going to do post-collegiately and what have you DONE post-collegiately in terms
of career-wise and how did your Marist education help to shape that?
After Marist, I wasn’t sure
what I wanted to do. I went back home and ended up substitute teaching
for a couple of years. During that time, I worked at my alma mater and
was the head XC and Track coach at CBA for a year. I enjoyed that a
lot. Working with high school kids and introducing them to the sport was
very gratifying. I was able to channel some of Mr. Riordan with my kids
and hope I taught them something during my tenure. After a few years, I
went on to work at Syracuse University as an admissions counselor before
meeting my wife Kathy. That changed everything. For the last 30-plus
years, we’ve lived in Erie, PA. I worked at Campbell’s Soup (19 years),
Kraft Foods (2 ½ years), Mondelez International (2 ½ years), and now have been
with Mars Wrigley the last 5-plus years. I’ve had a variety of roles in
business analysis, sales and management working primarily with grocery retailers,
e.g. Shoprite, throughout the country. I remember coming out of college I
swore that I’d never follow my Dad’s footsteps as he was in the business for 40-plus
years. Guess the big lesson for me was never say never; 30 years later, I
enjoy what I do and still get to incorporate skills I developed at Marist, like
business writing and public speaking. I still hope that someday I’ll get
back to my first job, coaching high school kids. My daughter Kayla
graduated as a teacher and is looking out West for a job. She would also
like to coach as I’m selfishly thinking I might be her assistant at some point
in the future.
What type of running and racing
did you do post-collegiately and how much running are you doing currently? Side
note: It sucks getting old!
Ya! We’re not old, just
aged like a fine wine!! I managed to stay running after graduation for more
than 40 years. For most of that time, I ran for fitness. After I
turned 40, I did begin running competitively again, mostly half and full
marathons until just a few years ago. Nothing too swift, but I’m proud of
running for as long as I did and still have the same knees I was born
with. My highlight would be running several of the Disney World half and
full marathons with my wife and daughter. Think I was in tears the first
time we crossed the line together as a family. Unfortunately, those years
took their toll on my knees and I “retired” from the pounding a few years
ago. About 10 years ago, Kathy, Kayla and I began to do quite a bit of
hiking while on vacation. Hiking has become our family fitness
“thing.” We’ve been to quite a few national parks hiking the trails in
Yellowstone, the Grand Tetons, Death Valley and around Mt. Rainier in
Washington State. We’ve also hiked the Canadian Rockies and around the
Hawaiian Islands including into a volcano crater. Last summer, we were
supposed to travel to Iceland and Norway for some serious hikes, but the virus
put that on hold for a while. We ended up hiking in the White Mountains
in Vermont and New Hampshire. Of all the places we’ve been to, these were
the toughest climbs to date. Lots of rocks and hand over hand climbing
especially hard going down the mountains. There’s still a lot of national
parks we haven’t been to and hope to get to as many as we can in the next few
years. While hiking isn’t the same as running, you still can get a really
good workout on your feet for 6-plus hours.
How cool was it when your
daughter, who ran XC and track at Niagara, raced in the same meets at Marist
and we were able to see each other again! Tell us about that experience!
It's been a long time since
you've been here, but how do you think your four years at Marist shaped the
rest of your adult life? Do you think about Marist often?
My time at Marist taught me so
much, but I think it’s the people I owe a lot to and think of often, especially
my former teammates like you. I know that I’ll miss someone so I won’t
try to reel off names, but I couldn’t be more fortunate to spend my four years
with such high caliber people. They do mean so much about friendship,
diversity of thought, and most importantly accepting and valuing people for who
they are as individuals. Obviously, none of that was planned, but it just
happened when you put individuals from different backgrounds together working
for a common goal. While I haven’t stayed connected to many of my former
teammates, I couldn’t be prouder of who they’ve become as people.
We're honored that you have
stayed connected to our program, following the team through the blog. What
keeps you checking on us?
You. Not only are you one
of my closest, dearest friends, but I am so proud and impressed with what
you’ve done with the Marist Cross Country and Track & Field programs over
the last 30-plus years. I remember those early years. Your teams were
obviously smaller and the support you received from administration was nowhere
near today’s level. I feel fortunate to have watched this program
flourish and become one of the best in the Northeast. Your blog is one of
the ways I’ve been able to stay connected with Marist despite the distance and
time. Also, you’re a pretty good writer and I enjoy reading your blogs
with my first cup of coffee in the mornings.
How has the pandemic affected
you, personally and professionally?
Prior to the pandemic, I
traveled quite a bit with my customers on the East Coast, Boston and Portland,
Maine. Since last March, I haven’t traveled at all. I work out of my home
office when not traveling, but it has been very strange not packing a bag and
getting on an airplane. I’ve traveled quite a bit domestically for
business the last 30 years so definitely a bit surreal. Not sure Kathy
likes having me home all the time as we share an office together which
sometimes can be very cramped. The good thing the last 10 months is that
Kayla has been home with us. Her career has been put on hold due to the
pandemic. It’s tough to see your kid’s dreams put on hold, but in the
grand scheme we’ve been very fortunate as we’re together and safe.
What message can you send to
our older student-athletes who's end of college career has been most greatly
impacted by the pandemic?
If you could talk to the
18-year-old Murph about to drive down the Thruway to attend Marist, what would
you tell him?
Cherish those precious days in
Poughkeepsie. Take full advantage of all that Marist College has to
offer, especially the people. You’ll develop friendships that will last a
life time.
Anything else you'd like to add
...
I’m going to get mushy, but want to reiterate how proud of you I am, my friend. You’ve done an incredible job building this program over the last 30-plus years and have had a tremendous impact to hundreds, most likely thousands of lives. Now that’s legacy. Speaking for all the Marist alum, you are not allowed to retire! Well done, Pete!!
