Thunder Road by Chris Soto

Chris Soto is a rising senior. He was a member of the TUXC national qualifying team in 2012. He hails from El Paso's Horizon High School.

It’s difficult to put into words what this summer has been like and even more difficult to do it in a way that doesn’t put me in a downer that might last the rest of my time here in Albuquerque. But I’m going to try anyway, with the hopes that I might gain a clearer perspective of the progress I’ve made during this summer phase of training and maybe even deal with some persistent clouds that have been hanging around since January. Forgive me if my tone is a tad bit somber. 

Now, the best way to write this would be to start at the end, briefly, then go back to the beginning, then periodically return to the end, maybe give different character perspectives throughout. Just to, you know, give it a little bit of dynamism otherwise it’s just another linear story. But that just seems like it’ll take too long to put on paper, so I’ll start from the beginning.

I started summer training at the beginning of May just as everyone else was ending their track season at the conference meet. I didn’t participate. Several weeks earlier, I made the difficult decision to withdraw from Track & Field for the rest of the spring season. Winter training, while not exceptional by any means, had gone decently well and I was feeling strong in our first few sessions on the track after returning to San Antonio. Cross-country had not gone well and I was trying to build up for a good spring. But unfortunately, that plan was violently derailed by my father’s death during the first week of classes.

I returned home to El Paso for a week to be with my mom and the rest of my family. Although I resolved at the beginning of that week to get my training in no matter the circumstances, it was unsurprisingly spotty, which I believe helped cripple a season that might already have been teetering on the edge of failure. Regardless of what did it, for the rest of the spring, I struggled physically and mentally to complete workouts and perform well in races. On some days, it truly took an unnerving amount effort to put my shoes on for practice.

So I decided to take some time off. How much, I didn’t know at the time. But I did believe I wasn’t finished with running. I hoped maybe taking some pressure off from training and racing would rest my very tired mind and body. Cheering teammates from the sidelines, however, is not something I’m accustomed to. And as the rest of the season wrapped up quite well for everyone else, I felt my motivation creeping back in.

It has not been an easy road. May was emotionally difficult. Despite wanting desperately to begin summer training and finish my senior seasons for cross and track, I could not help but question if it was even worth starting again, especially in the face of so much loss, and even more so while dealing with the most overwhelming finals week I have ever had. But ultimately, I chose to press on.

In total, I took 24 days off from running. But it felt like I had been out for 24 weeks. My first week back at the beginning of May, I ran 12 miles. It was not an easy thing to do, though I was happy to be back on the roads. The next week I ran 18. Then 24. 32. 30. 46. And since then I’ve added miles every week to return to some semblance of fitness. And here, in Albuquerque, New Mexico, 13 weeks later, while living with some of the absolutely best people I know, the life is back in my legs.

Some of the Dukes!

Albuquerque is no joke. Even at a 1000ft higher than El Paso, the elevation difference is noticeable and hard to overcome. I live in an area with lots of rolling hills and at first those were a struggle to get through even at an easy pace. My first few legitimate workouts felt horrendously slow. And for a while, I thought the Ravennas I bought at the beginning of June were going to tear my arches apart. But every week has gotten better. Every week has gotten faster. Amidst the fatigue from training, we somehow manage to bring ourselves back from whatever slump we slip into. Methods of relief from training include Jacob’s now famous banana bread, Slurpees from 7-Eleven after tough workouts, Mannie’s Diner’s Manster Breakfast after long runs ($10 for 3 eggs, two meats, hash, and pancakes), FIFA, Call of Duty, playing Hide and Seek with Cassie the Cat, and rearranging Sal’s shoes in his closet just to piss him off. Training is tough but we’ve kept a fun atmosphere and that’s made the mileage seem a little easier to handle.

I should note that I haven’t had to go it alone these past six months. While it may not be the right place to thank everyone who has helped me along the way, I do find it appropriate to do so now before we all return to San Antonio. This just goes to show that a runner is never, ever alone in their endeavors:

My teammates and my coaches, past and present, have supported me and shared in my frustration with this past spring season. My family has not stopped checking in to see how I’m doing. My friends continue to surprise me with their compassion and their empathy. My high school coach Howard Prestwood, whom I very much consider a second father, has not hesitated to pick up the phone whenever I might need him.

My housemates in the Ranch House have put up with me and Jacob so much I can’t not give them a shout out: Kalder Cockrell, the non-runner in the house, has not failed to amuse us day in and day out, no matter how bad of a day we’ve had; Myles Kloer has welcomed us with open arms and has kept us laughing from the very beginning; George. Brandon. Douglas. Gramps. Whatever your name is. We hardly see you; Sal Perdomo, you’re my brother from another mother and I will not forget this summer or everything you’ve done for me; Tim Gill, thanks for letting us sublease your room, bro; Jacob, I could not have gotten through the first few workouts without you. All this hard work will pay off—it’s been a blast living with you. 

Horsin' Around with the Dukes

And last but not least: The Dukes of Albuquerque. Jesse and Arlene Armijo, your warmth and your enthusiasm for running are beyond my comprehension. Thanks for letting us run with your group and for dinner that one time after a long night of catering. I wish you both a happy first year of marriage. Andrew Rhodes, thanks for grinding out some of those workouts with us. Coach Lutz, thank you for your advice on training this summer (I finally listened!). Tony Clement, if I could swap PR’s with you I’d do it in a heartbeat! Thanks for being so encouraging and supportive this summer (and for getting me a job). And the rest of you Dukes (Phil, Smashlee, Shauna, Derek, Pev, Tim, Zach…I could go on and on). I cannot list all of you because there are too many of you! Thank you!

There are still a lot of miles ahead. Most importantly, as a senior, I feel the clock ticking. I only have a very short time to redeem a horrible junior year, and maybe pull off a few exceptional performances worthy of some top ten lists. I’m cutting it close. Very close. But I know whole-heartedly I would not be able to live with myself if I didn’t try and do something special during my last year as a Tiger. My time is coming to a close, and my last fall semester, my last first day of classes, my last races are quickly approaching. And it pains me to feel like I haven’t quite made a mark on my collegiate running career yet. Maybe that will change this year. I know it’s late, but we can make it if we run.