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Ode to yesteryear: Tournament memories, Part V

Posted On: Wednesday, May 30, 2007
By: alexanderscot
By Colin Altevogt
Indiana Runner Girls Coordinator
Former FW Snider 4×800 Relay
Captain

Less than a year removed,
Indiana Runner Girls Coordinator Colin Altevogt feels nostalgic about
his senior campaign in the IHSAA track & field tournament. After
competing in the state meet his sophomore year (where his 4×800 relay
ran the fastest time not to finish All-State in the event�s history),
he and three new teammates attempted to return in 2006.

 
In
the fifth and final installment of this series, Colin muses on his
reasons for coming back to help and shares the best advice he ever
received.

 
If only I
was Catholic, I�d have gotten two medals at Dwenger. If only I lived five miles
north, I�d have a ring from Northrop. Yet, I wouldn�t want it any other way
than the experiences I had.
 
For the
past week, I searched for a way to end this series. I contemplated describing
in detail my last, transient attempt to seize the All-State medal, a try that
caused me to lie in the tent for a half-hour afterward. I also thought about reminiscing
on my first state meet and the feelings that ensued.
 
Yet, there
is no right way to conclude this because it has yet to end. I am still a part of the
Fort Wayne Snider 4×800 meter relay. It is still a part of me. A year has past
since I walked the halls of
Snider High School, yet I have still come to practice
every day since my return from college. I share their passion and celebrate
their success with unbridled enthusiasm.
 
I never
ran a step for myself in high school track & field. Everything I ever did
centered around the goal of getting a team back on the podium in the 4×8. Three
years of hardships and one missed graduation ceremony later, I finished exhausted
and dizzy in 16th place.
 
I love Snider High School and the 4×800 meter relay. A year
after I graduated, my reasons and excuses are no longer important. Like any
alum, I can only hope that my lessons are still remembered, my impact still
resonates.
 
For the
most part, ours was a program doused in negativity. We often ran in
fear of
being scolded, reprimanded or straight yelled at. Of course, my will
could not be broken. I was, and still am, addicted to track &
field. It’s just unfortunate that we lost a lot of talented guys,
either to a subsequent lack of interest or bad attitude.

After a Saturday afternoon
state meet, I was called Monday morning and told that I would receive no break
in training and was required to be at practice for a tempo run just 30 hours
after arriving home from a devastatingly heartbreaking race.

 
Negativity
in this case was like gasoline. Ultimately, it all went up in flames. My senior
track season, we were left, more or less, to fend for ourselves with an
inexperienced assistant coach for a distance advisor. We worked together and
survived the potential downfalls. It�s a true testament to my three teammates
that we were able to live the dream that season.
 
When the
regime change came at our school, I pushed for the right candidate to apply for
the job. I left for college satisfied with the way the future looked at the
school I loved. It has yet to disappoint so far.
 
Eventually,
my involvement at my alma mater will need to cease. I begin my adventure into
coaching this fall in cross country. A track job (and my end at Hoosier
Authority) may soon follow. For now, though, I�m savoring the present.
 
Looking
back, the best advice I ever received came from my teammate Sam Lewis. After my
insistence that we better medal my junior (and his sophomore) season after all
the work we had done, he told me that I shouldn�t become so focused on the
destination that I forget to enjoy the journey.
 
Fast
forward two years later. He uses a well-timed kick to become the 800
meter
conference champion in his senior year, crossing the finish line and
pointing
to his old teammate who stands not 20 yards from the finish line. I
jump in
jubilation. It isn’t me out there on the track, but it might as well
be. The true bond between teammates knows no selfishness or jealousy.
It
never dulls nor dies.
 
As we
walked out toward the bus at the end of the 2004 state meet my sophomore year,
I spotted a stuffed doll hanging from a tree. It had a smirk on its face, as if
it was laughing at me. (Later, I learned the doll was actually a 2 flat 800 guy
that had medaled on
Marion�s team in 2000.)
 
I used
that doll as a symbol of my motivation. The goal was to someday get on the
podium and return that doll back to the tree. After last year�s state finals, I
passed it on to Dillon Painter. Someday he will stand on the podium and receive
a medal. I will point out the tree and watch as he places the doll back where
it belongs.
 
Just a day
away from the state finals, I think only of my former teammates. I get excited
with the thought of this new group of guys experiencing the state finals. Perhaps
this is the year we get rid of the doll. Perhaps not. Either way, the journey
continues for three of the four on this relay.
 

It won�t be me in that race or maybe on that
podium because this meet isn�t about me. Then again, it never was. I got to be
part of the journey. I still get to be part of the journey. And that�s better
than the destination, no matter where that may be.

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