I run a lot. Every day. No matter the weather, my current physical condition, inhospitable travel logistics, or other unforeseen calamities. I haven’t missed a day since January 1, 2014. There was nothing particularly significant about that date, nor was there a need to draw the figurative line in the sand and embark on a brave new existence. I just made the decision to run every day for the rest of my life.

The official definition of a running streak, as defined by the United States Running Streak Association (of which I am a dues-paying member), is “to run at least one mile (1.61 kilometers) within each calendar day. Running may occur on either the roads, a track, over hill and dale, or on a treadmill.” For the past 4 years 8 months and 21 days, I’ve kept the streak alive and actually upped the ante required by the USRA – I run at least 3 miles a day. But really, the average is closer to 7.

I’d been running consistently since 2005, the year I graduated high school. I was a freshly-retired offensive lineman (Go Wolves) looking for a way to get in shape and impress my cross country-running girlfriend. That’s an era ripe with golden material for future entries, so stay tuned.

Over the past (good lord) 13 years, I’ve steadily increased my mileage from 10-15 miles a week to the 50+ average I now hold myself to; thanks in part to my obsessive compulsive disorder. Plenty of material there, too!

I’ve ran countless road races, snuck onto the legendary track at Hayward Field for a quick mile, and managed to keep the streak alive by running around the Oakland, CA Amtrak station while our train from Portland to Los Angeles refueled. I’ve run through grief, loss, and heartbreak. I’ve run on Christmas morning every year, usually wearing a Santa hat. I’ve (somehow) run during bachelor party weekends and on the morning of my wedding. I’ve run in 3 feet of snow and 100 degree heat. I’ve been bruised, bloodied, and more dehydrated than a human has any right to be. I’ve consumed the latest-and-greatest energy supplements and drank a tall PBR at mile 18 of the Detroit Marathon (eternal thanks to the good people of Indian Village).

I’m not your typical distance runner, by any stretch of the imagination. This never came naturally to me. I’ve had to figure it out on my own, from form to pacing to nutrition and more, over many years of trial and error. Mostly error. People were shocked to hear I’d taken up distance running as hobby when I started college. I tipped the scales at 265 pounds (at my heaviest) in high school – a far cry the the classic image of the distance runner – all long limbs and sinewy muscles, floating gracefully across the plain like a noble gazelle. No, I ran like a refrigerator.

Over the years I’ve lost weight, gained weight, lost more, gained it back. I eventually settled into my frame, though I’m still wider than most of the dudes in my pace group. Half of my toenails are permanently black, my Achilles’ are perpetually tight, and my wife is a saint for putting up with all of it. But as rough as it can occasionally be, there’s never been a run I’ve regretted running.

I’m a teacher at Schoolcraft High School. Despite never running a cross country race myself or having any tangible knowledge of the rules of the sport, I became the varsity cross country coach in the fall of 2016. As cliche as it sounds, for all running has given me over the years, having the opportunity to give something back and share my passion has been a game changer. Another phase in the evolution of my running life.

I suppose that’s the point of this blog: sharing the stories, trials, tribulations, and half-baked wisdom of my life as a distance runner. If I can do this, anyone can do this. It takes time, dedication, and perseverance. And decent shoes. Thanks for taking this first step with me.

Here’s to another mile.