Hello everyone,
Some of you may have noticed that my blog (in-the-arena-matt) has been quiet for a couple of months now. I apologize for any delay in notice, but as many of you close to me know, and others may have guessed, I have decided to hang up the spikes and retire from competing in the decathlon.
I have many reasons for this and I will spare you the details of most in this post but the primary reasons for this decision stem from the fact that I simply felt it was time for me to move on. From track and field? No. From the decathlon? I hope not. In fact, believe it or not, I am even more engrossed in track and field than I was before - and a lot of this is the fault of In The Arena. Deanne Vochatzer, one of my great college coaches used to always say: "there is nothing more selfish than an elite athlete." I didn't quite understand it at the time, and I may have even taken a bit of offense to it, but in the years past I quickly understood the meaning.
As an athlete, a professional athlete, a post-collegiate athlete, a "serious" athlete, whatever you want to call it, if you are truly giving your all, fundamentally striving to be the best you can possibly be, squeezing every ounce of determination, strength, endurance, or motivation out of yourself, you really can only focus on one thing the majority of the time: yourself. Superficially it seems like a great time (and don't get me wrong, it is a great time, but just probably not in the ways you might be thinking) - run a couple laps here or there, lift some weights, eat, and sleep, maybe do some traveling to exotic lands. It's the behind-the-scenes that is so incredible. Take a look at one of Kate's workout videos ("speed") or the list of places Mike has competed in this past year ("rest-recovery") in his first post back after being away from home for 4 months. This is the top layer, but underneath that layer is the real bulk of what it means to be high level athlete. Managing the many hours on plane flights hoping your equipment shows up when you get there (and that customs didn't saw your $800 javelins in half to make sure you weren't smuggling anything in them) and trying to feel like you've got some bounce in your legs afterwards, trying to stay healthy throughout 2.5 hours of throwing and 2.5 hours of lifting sessions, per day in preparation of an event whose competition last for roughly 2 second at a time ("back at it"), or on the other end, try running the last half a marathon after developing blisters on your feet and coming across the final water station at 7.5 miles to go to find that someone has thrown away your liquids ("race"). You're always edging that line: can I put in more training, do I need more sleep, am I getting enough food, too much food, how am I going to pay for all this? It's a controlled (at least it's supposed to be controlled) obsession with yourself - how do I make me better. That's why something like In The Arena is so refreshing to be a part of. It's a few hours a week when you can actually step outside yourself. You can view the big picture to see what you're actually trying to accomplish. You can use those hardened tools to help someone else, to teach a kid about digging in and fighting through a math problem you may not understand, about how to stand tall and adapt when things don't go your way, about how all the little pieces fit together in the long run (pun intended). Yes, it was because of In The Arena that I was able to monetarily afford what it took to reach my goals (shoes, physical therapy, plane tickets), but I believe that it was also due to In The Arena and my work with the Cambridge Jets that I was able to afford my goals emotionally as well. Yes it was a big moment for me to compete at the Olympic Trials in 2008, but you should see look on the face of one of my Jets when they talk about the Olympic Trials. Many of them haven't been outside of Massachusetts, let alone thought about running in a track meet in Italy.
So, why is it in any way the fault of In The Arena that I am hanging up my own spikes? It's because of the mindset I talked about above. I was am a good decathlete and I feel like I worked very hard and over came a fair amount of obstacles to get to where I am. I have learned much from through failure in my career, this I am proud of and has made me a better athlete in the short term, but a better person in the long run. In opening my eyes outside myself however, I see a bigger problem in that there are many athletes out there, with many of them much more talented than I trying to overcome the very same failures I have been through and this just doesn't make any sense to me. Our sport may be based upon running in circles, but our thoughts shouldn't follow suit. As Havelock Ellis pointedly puts it:
It is on our failures that we base a new and different and better success.
My failures can only get me so far, but if I bring the same failures to others, many more can get much further.
Many have expected me to be freaking out at about this point after giving up something that has been such a strong part of my life for so long now (and there are a couple of bets and pools to confirm this), but to the contrary they find that I am very happy with my decision. I do concede that I have yet to have to stand on the sidelines and watch a trackmeet without being able to compete, but since the conclusion of last season I have been keeping much too busy to be able to miss the training. One of the first people that heard of my decision was Amory, the founder of In The Arena because I wanted to make very clear that I still wished to be a part of ITA in any capacity they see fit and in fact we have a couple of projects in the works that I am very excited to be a part of. I have become much more involved in coaching both at Harvard (where I now coach the pole vaulters as well as my original duties with the hurdlers and assisting the sprints), but have also started working with elite level athletes (a high jumper and a hammer thrower) and next month I begin my first duties as an USATF athlete representative for the decathlon group - something I've been wanting to get involved in for the past couple of years.
Again, thanks to In The Arena and all of its supporters (like you!) I have come to realize that some of us do our good from the field, but many more of us do our good from the sidelines, but we are all a team together. I couldn't have accomplished the dreams I have accomplished and made this transition so satisfactorily without your support. Be it simply reading the blogs, notes of encouragement, or financial support, you guys/gals are all a HUGE part of everyone of the athletes on the roster of In The Arena.
Thus, in parting, thank you and please, please, keep up the good work!
Sincerely,
Matt
