Brice

My running career blossomed from the ashes of my failed athletic dreams. My sophomore year of high school I got it into my head that I could be a phenom on the mat – a master of the take down and half nelson. Turns out I was wrong. Wrestling was hard. And not just hard, miserable. I hated it. The workouts pushed my body and mind to the limit and I would wobble home exhausted.

The only part I liked about wrestling was the part you were supposed to hate – the running. To kick off the season the team drove to Horseshoe Bend to run the 7% grade, six mile long aptly named Horseshoe Bend hill. I really didn’t know what I was getting myself into. I ran in jeans, I’m embarrassed to say. But that jean runner still beat most everyone on the team. I’m convinced that it was my effort on that hill that earned me the respect of my fellow wrestlers, since I certainly didn’t earn much respect from my wrestling (in)ability. Running that hill flipped a switch in me somewhere and I tucked away the thought: “Hey I’m pretty good at this running thing. . .”

Needless to say I never wrestled again, but that summer when my friend Jon Durfee pushed me to join the cross country team, it was all the opportunity I needed. I feel in deep love with running in part because of how much easier it was for me than wrestling. Running was my anti-wrestling; when I was running I was free! This is what I was born to do! And thus began my life-long love affair with running.

But, as any serious runner soon learns, I discovered that running is not all sweet and easy. It takes effort, pain and determination. All that I was willing to give. . . or so I thought. I was about to discover how a strong positive mental attitude can propel you to soaring new heights.

It was the end of my sophomore year in college and I had been running cross country and track with, what I felt, was great success and progress. I ran workouts hard and gave it my all and my times were steadily improving. To end out the year, we all met with coach Dalzell to take a look back to reflect and then plan for the future. This short meeting turned my outlook on running and life in general completely on its head.

My remembered details of the meeting are sparse, but the message I gleaned from our conversion left and indelible mark upon my mind. And that message was simply this: you can do better. At first I was a little taken aback. I wasn’t loafing! But, as I let that simple assessment from a coach I greatly respected and admired sink in, I began to believe it – really believe it. I changed my entire outlook. I expected to do better and set my sights high. I broke through an invisible barrier that was keeping me down, keeping me mediocre. A barrier that I didn’t even know existed until I had left it behind. Armed with the knowledge that I could do better, I all but guaranteed I would do better. I set my mind on positive things and my body followed.

I’m sure that Dalzell’s words were not as powerfully spoken as they were received, but I was in the right place and the right time and ripe for a personal revolution. Now as a coach myself, I share my amazing paradigm shift via the three letter acronym PPT: the Power of Positive Thinking.