All My Friends Are Runners: The Boy Who Ran

Chapter 1: The Boy Who Ran

In the film Shrek, the main character explains to us that ogres are like onions: they have layers. He doesn’t choose cakes or parfaits (which are delicious) but instead onions. Over the years, I have found that running, too, is more akin to onions than decadent, tasty desserts. Any sane person would love a cake for their birthday. It takes a special kind of weirdo to ask for an onion, a food whose defining characteristic is that it makes you cry. And runners have always been special kinds of weirdos.

But more importantly, running has layers. The seemingly straightforward question, “When did I start running?” has inspired a slew of answers and anecdotes. The literal answer would be somewhere around my 1st birthday. We have a video of me and my best one-year old friend, Tommy Hartsough, running down the hallways at my birthday party[1]. Of course, that’s the kind of answer that gets you slapped for being a smart mouth.

I always had the personality of a runner. I was (and still am) one of the top five biggest sore losers you will ever meet. I’m ultra-competitive and I hate losing more than I love winning (which is saying something, because I love winning). Honestly, I have always had that extra determination and belief in myself, an innate desire to set goals and then go achieve them.

It started at my local swim club, Sunny Willow, where we had to pass a swimming test in order to play in the deep-end and use the diving board. As a scrawny 6-year-old kid, I wanted nothing more than to pass and put on the ankle band that signified you were “deep-end approved”. I fought and clawed my way through it, avoiding drowning, and passed the test[2]. Looking back, that’s the moment you could tell I was a runner.

The first time I realized running was more than just something you do in other sports was in 6th grade. At our middle school, everybody ran the “mile”[3] doing two laps around the front section of the school. Every Thanksgiving time, we had a big mile race for each grade called the Turkey Trot. It was the first time I experienced the thrill of true running competition and the rush of outkicking people on the home stretch[4]. I ran 7:22 and placed in the top 30 runners in 6th grade, which was pretty much the most athletic thing I had done up until that point in my life.

I guess I consider this my first race, but not really when I became a runner. The next year was the first time I really started training. In the spring, I ran CYO with St. Alphonsus, dropped my mile time to 6:48 and broke 3 for the first time in the 800[5]. With a newfound understanding for how to improve my running, I dropped my time to 6:28 in the 7th grade Turkey Trot and placed 12th overall. I also tried my hand at my first 5k and ran just north of 23 minutes[6]. I ran track for Sandy Run that spring and dropped things down to 6:14 and that was when I created my first ever track goal: to break 6 minutes in the mile.

In 8th grade, the Turkey Trot went out OK. My brother, who was now in 6th grade and preparing for his first ever Turkey Trot, time trialed a mile against me on the course. I outkicked him and was feeling pretty good about myself[7]. The day of the Turkey Trot, I walked into History Class feeling confident about the race and thinking I could get a top 5 spot. The top 5 got T-shirts which I thought was a greater honor than winning an Olympic medal back then. My 8th grade History teacher was married to my brother and I’s 4th grade teacher, Mr. and Mrs. Koch, and upon seeing me that morning she excitedly told me, in front of the entire class no less, that my brother had just won the Turkey Trot in a time faster than my PR[8]. Well that was just the perfect psyche out move. I’m fortunate I managed to grab 8th that day in 6:26[9].

But I wasn’t a real runner yet, despite a year of track and some serious race running. You know why? Because I decided it would be a good idea to run the 100m that spring rather than try and break 6 in the mile! You see they had weight classes back in middle school and I was light enough to do well. I really just wanted to get some recognition and have the coaches know who I was (which was not the case when I ran distance: they thought my last name was Fox).

No, I don’t think I was a real runner until I got to Upper Dublin High School and participated in my first ever season of Cross Country. After that, I would have a strong preference for onions.




[1] First of all, adorable right? Second, ironically enough me and Tommy ended up racing a few times in High School. He ran XC for Abington and his younger brother Jon was one of the first guys to miss states out of District One in 2011.
[2] A classic story in the Felix household. My mom didn’t want me to take the test and get my hopes up too high for passing, while my dad loves to tell me that he always believed I could do it. It epitomizes the unique way they have each loved me.
[3] I say “mile” because it wasn’t a very exact system. They actually extended the race by a few extra meters to account for the difference. Since they extended the race, they had to reset all the records and my brother Luke Felix set the 6th grader course record when he won the Turkey Trot in 2005. I believe Zach Pffefer, future Philadelphia Union professional soccer player, broke the record the next year. Why do I know this stuff? I have a problem.
[4] I caught my friend Tom Lorenzi with about 400m to go. We agreed we would just finish together over the final stretch, but I turned on him about 200m later and went into my kick. I’m surprised he still came to my sleep over party that year.
[5] More anecdotal foot notes! One day when I was kind of sick, I was suffering through an awful day on the track. When I approached the 3 lap mark, I noticed the crowd really starting to pick up the cheering which made me feel pretty good. Until I realized they were cheering for Shawn Quinn, the kid who lapped me. Later we became friendly from the whole etrain thing when he was running #1 for a very good LaSalle squad. Still no idea if he knows he lapped me that day.
Also I ran on that 4x8 where I broke 3 with Tom O’Kane who went on to grab a couple state medals for LaSalle and run a 1:53 split. Small world.
[6] My parents love to tell this story. I was running the 5k and they were waiting to watch me cover over this hill into view. When I started to come into view, minutes before they were ready, they said, “Wait is that Jarrett?”, “It is! That’s Jarrett!” I guess that’s when they knew I was a runner. I think I only ran as fast as I did that day because I was trying to beat Derek Gianetti, who was one of the cool, athletic kids at Willow Grove Day Camp.
[7] I never beat my brother in anything. When we were little and I was a competitive, sore loser cry baby, I used to go to tears regularly because he would just destroy me in basketball and football.
[8] Not that I even knew what the term PR was yet.
[9] I had a big bet going into this race with my friend Matt Tanzer who was confident he was going to beat me after he ran really fast in gym class qualifying. I passed him just after 800m when he got a bad side stitch.

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