Hector M. Gomez

For every end, there is a beginning. But for every end, there’s also a middle. That’s where I find myself right now, not at the start, and not at the finish, but somewhere in between. I’ve begun. Now, I just need to see it end.

I started running during my senior year of high school. I gained fitness quickly and kicked off my final cross country season with the kind of surprise any high school coach would dream of.

Before running, I was a soccer player. I played from the age of six until I was sixteen, an entire decade. When I decided I wanted to be the best soccer player I could be, I started running. A lot. Every day. I didn’t realize it then, but I was training like a cross-country athlete preparing for his season.

That summer, something nudged me to join the cross-country team. So I did. No pressure, no commitment, just me trying to get in shape for the upcoming soccer season. But it became something more. Something bigger. It’s the reason I’m writing this today.

“The best ones are always running from ghosts.”
I heard that quote recently, and it struck a chord deep within me. That season, I went from running an 18:38 5K to a 17:06 in just five races. No prior experience, just something I was running from. Ghosts.

After cross country, my coach wanted me back, running, or return to the sport I had originally been running for.

I chose to run. It was new. It was exciting. And deep down, I knew it was the path I needed to follow if I ever wanted to outrun those ghosts.

That track season, I dropped my mile time from 4:58 to 4:36. My 800 from 2:14 to 2:03. I only tried the 3200 once, but I knew: middle distance was where my fire burned brightest.

With those times, I earned a scholarship to a small community college 4 hours away from my hometown. It felt like the start of the end, or at least the beginning of something real.

By then, I didn’t just love running as a sport, I needed it. It was more than a way to stay fit. It was how I escaped reality, how I kept my mind in sync with my soul.

But life had different plans. And eventually, the ghosts I had been running from caught up with me, and didn’t just catch me; they ran me over. I became haunted, both in life and in running.

I’m 24 now. I was 17 when I moved away. After all these years, I’ve finally gained enough distance to see where those ghosts were going. And this time, nothing is going to stop me.

This year, I ran my first 3K steeplechase. I clocked a 9:39, without having any idea what I was doing. My mile PR now stands at 4:10, and that’s with low mileage. I can say, without hesitation, that one day, I will beat those ghosts. I will become the best steeplechaser in the world.

Call me crazy, I’ve heard that before.

I may have just started in this sport. But in many ways, I’ve been running my entire life. Running not just with my legs, but with my heart and my mind. Running away, yes, but also running toward something. Toward the lead I lost somewhere along the way.

Because one day, it will all end. And when it does, I want to know I didn’t stop chasing.