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| Joe Kutner is a graduating senior at Loyola University New Orleans. |
In every race I've ever run there has been a guy named Steve. Steve runs unattached. He wears a singlet – usually a Nike one – that's too cool for any college to have as a uniform. Steve wears $100 sunglasses that match his $100 spikes – both made by Nike.
Sometimes I beat Steve and sometimes Steve beats me. But Steve is also 27 years old and graduated from college over 4 years ago.
Steve isn't really a single person, but a euphemism for a certain type of person. Steve is the type of person I'm afraid I'm going to become. Last Saturday I ran the last race of my scholastic career, and so began the first day of the rest of my life.
I'd have to say my running career started 20 years ago when I learned to walk. At times it kept me in shape for another sport, and sometimes it was used to keep from getting fat.
But it was never without the prospect of getting better. I ran because I was a runner, and as Adam Leskis says "that's what we do… run." So what comes now?
Leskis is a good example of someone else that is going through this right now (I know hundreds of you have been through this, but please, bear with me). Adam will certainly continue to run. But he is also a much more accomplished runner than I am.
I'm going to get fat. Yes there is only a one-letter difference between "fat" and "fast" but it means everything in the eyes of a runner. And once I'm fat, I will be forced to carry a water bottle while I run. I will probably have to eat a Power Bar Gel pack after three miles of jogging.
I'd like to continue training. Maybe move to some place beautiful like Oregon. Maybe it has something in the water that makes people faster.
Or I can just sit on my couch and watch other people run. Is that really better than becoming a "Steve."
I guess now I'm just a 21-year-old waiting to come back as a Masters runner.