Life has been pretty confusing for me lately. It's the first time in my life where I haven't had a good grasp on where I'm heading to next, which has me migrating toward a life of monotony. Wake up, breakfast, work, lunch, work, dinner, read, sleep, repeat. I'm finally relating more to a robot than a human and I can't say that excites me.

Are we all inevitably destined to stall out?

I've always tried to orient myself to the morbid idea of what would I be happiest about on my death bed. One thing is for certain, the rinse and repeat lifestyle isn't it. Would I be proud about living in different cities? Being a nomad? Making deep long lasting relationships? Learning as much as I can? Meeting lots of different people? Becoming a work executive? I wish I knew the right answer.

Throughout life, I've found purpose in a myriad of things: Baseball, orchestra, school, running and more. One by one those priorities have melted to the wayside but have always been replaced by a more prominent better looking figure in my life. Through the iterations of life I've dug deeper and deeper into running but have unfortunately seen the light at the end of my tunnel. Emotionally, I'm all in on running and nothing gives me a greater purpose but over the years my physical ability to endure the grueling work it takes to pursue my passion has waned. I don't want to quit but I don't have a say when it comes to father time. Which has me reeling to figure out what's next?

These passion projects have also given me a sense of community, belonging, and self worth. Where now I feel i'm falling towards no man's land, which is probably why this one is hitting so hard. Where does one go when they don't know where to go next? Do they settle in on the monotony of life? Reorient all conversations to the glory days? Pursue a midlife crisis and buy a corvette? Dye their hair? All very intriguing options but I'm looking for some longer term clarity. So where do I go from here?

Is it great to be normal? Maybe I just fold and become another cog in the machine. Or maybe this is a chance to discover the real me?

P.S. I think Nick Mulvey captures the essence of pursuing a passion the best in his song "Fever to the Form". Highly recommend giving it a listen.  

​He housed a cabin all to himself
Had the sun to keep him company during the summer
Stockpiled pallets of timber to keep him warm during the frost

But he always questioned whether this was good enough.

He had rice and beans to stuff his gut
A well that spat clean water whenever he pleased
A gang of horses and pasture to keep him busy

But he always questioned whether this was good enough.

A neighbor nearby to trade the essentials
A brother in town to reach out to for help
A catalog of friends to pass the time by
​
But he always questioned whether this was good enough. 

I'm currently at a coffee shop chugging caffeine, reading, pretending to work, and mostly daydreaming as I do most weekends. Lately, I've been contemplating the idea of adulthood and what the definition actually means. Are we adults as soon as we leave the nest? As soon as mom and dad say you're on your own? After we have kids? After our first big purchase? One thing is for certain, the tik tokers think I'm ancient now but am I an adult?

After weighing my perception of kids and adults, I've realized that adulthood is more of a spectrum, where we're born into this world as self-absorbed poop monsters and slowly transition into selfless, dessert-giving grandparents. A spectrum that I've seen many peers gradually climb. Some of us transitioned quickly, while some of us may never make it very far on the scale of adulthood.

From my brother biting my mom's face, to my older sister having meltdowns in her closet, to my younger sister acting like a dog in public, to me being perfect; my siblings set the bar pretty low to evolve from. Over time we learned to develop more selfless traits like helping around the house, creating thoughtful gifts, asking our first question about our parents, and a myriad of other firsts. Decades later, I hope our resume of selfless traits have continued to grow.

So Maybe the conclusion is that adulthood happens when we learn to be more selfless than selfish? Maybe that means some of us are on the cusp of adulthood?

Spectrum:
​(Poopy pants----Kid 2----------Kid 1---------Kid 3--Adulthood happens around here?------------------Ma/Pa-----Cookies)

Is it possible to be more selfless than selfish? Is being selfless even a trait worth pursuing?

Stress fractures, broken bones, shin splints, plantar fasciitis, torn muscles, tendonitis, fatigue, and a downright beatdown on my mental fortitude. When things are going well, everyone is in your corner. When you're broken, you're on your own.

Over the past few years, I've been clawing back to find my old self again. A feat I truly thought would never happen. A career full of sleepless nights tossing and turning to get into a comfortable position, millions of steps with a constant reminder that my plantar fasciitis will never go away, hundreds of dry needles to give me some semblance of relief, physical therapy appointments to highlight my inadequacies, a scoreboard full of subpar performances, and a constant barrage from outsiders for not coming back at my best.

Nobody cares about my excuses, the bystanders want to see results. If only they could have a day in my shoes. 

In a given year, almost 80% of runners will face an injury. We've all been in the hurt locker and it's a true gut check of "how bad do you want it". Is it worth it? Should you just give up? Long hours of isolation staring at the same damn wall, swimming in the same damn pool, pedaling on the same damn bike that has a seat made of tree bark. Coupled with the joy of watching your teammates and competitors pull farther ahead of you. Sounds like a pretty convincing argument to hang up the shoes, huh? Year after year our competitors face the same feelings of isolation and one by one they're weeded out. You best believe the ones that remain eat nails for breakfast. This sport isn't for the weak.
So why keep running at all?

For as much as this sport can kick you when you're down, there are few other things in life that can bring as much purpose and tangible progress than running. The euphoria of having your body click just right, the mini milestones to give you something to look forward to, the satisfaction of achieving a new personal best, and the limitless feeling of surrounding yourself with a tribe of psychos who push their bodies to the limit. While the valleys of training beat us down, the other side of suffering is when we feel the most alive. Through the tough times we hold a relentless belief that a better version of "you" is just on the horizon that maybe not everyone else can see.

The best is yet to come.

Day in and day out I get to train with a tribe of like-minded psychos who refuse to throw in the towel. We've been beat down but you best believe we're better for it. I'm not dead yet, so you best believe I'll see you on the other side.

I work with Tinman Elite to create this short story into a visual story here

Links to "A Year in Review" Part 1 or Part 2.

The rise, the peak, and the fall. A year in review.

Winning is everything. Second, ninth, one hundredth, they're all the same. Outside of your close knit friends and yourself, you can have mini milestones, personal records, breakthrough performances, disappointments, and failures that your ride or dies will take notice. But toe the line as the winner, everything changes.

The National Championship post-race party

To say I never had success, is a bit of a misnomer. I still ran decent in my years of "Failure" but my years of struggle consisted of running well below my expectations. It's like living in one of those dreams where you're running away from a monster but can't run as fast as what you know you can. I couldn't ever explain this gripe to my peers but it always felt like I was trapped in a body that could do so much more but had to settle for less. I had to fake my appreciation for the results I was given. Maybe this was ungrateful of me but it was a constant mental battle when I was aiming for so much more. The national championship and the races leading up to it, were validation that I wasn't crazy. I knew I was capable of more and I was finally able to prove it. I wanted to shout to the world, "SEE, I TOLD YOU SO!"

In the months following my breakout performance, I crushed every PR ranging from the 3k on up to the 10k. I was on cloud nine and doors were opening up left and right. Agents, sponsors, podcasts, social media followers, race directors, and friends I didn't know I had reached out to be a part of the story. Going from a nobody to a somebody overnight (Who the Hell is Brogan Austin).

A fantasy that most of us dream of but not everyone sticks around long enough to see it through. The small town kid who goes against all odds to throw the last second touchdown, make the last chance three pointer, the kid who, without question, has done the right thing to win overwhelming validation from your community.

Post Race Hangover

What's the first thing you'd do with this newfound platform? Take the all the money deals you can find? Befriend as many people you can? Level up your contacts? It's pretty rare that we're confronted with such clear cut Ys in the road, let alone a multitude coming all at the same time.

I had every option you could think of to further elevate my success but all I could do was crawl into a hole. I know, I know, this is the last thing I should be doing but I was on the cusp of trampling everyone who got me to where I was. I had already labeled myself a traitor and was bed ridden mourning the relationships I was about to forgo.

Opportunities only come knocking once every blue moon, when life gives you lemons, make lemonade; I'm sure you've heard these over simplistic lines. It's pretty obvious to take the paths that further bolster our story but each of these catch phrases should come with an asterisk noting there may be some downstream repercussions. I had the power to elevate myself but ultimately backed out of everything to keep my community and eliminate the possibility of tainting my relationship with running.

Puuuuke… This guy is an idiot.

Do I wish I had a glimpse into what could have been? For sure. Would I have been better off going all in on myself? Potentially. Am I a ding dong? Absolutely.

Maybe my algorithm is a little off and I don't know how to make proper decisions but I can tell you when I ultimately decided to back away from everything, it was the most at peace I've been in awhile. I could probably try to explain my rationale a 1,000 different ways and you may still not get it. Please don't hate me but here's how I came to my conclusion.

Hear Me Out

For better or worse, I think we're all born with an innate hero complex. Where we comprehend our life as the center of the story and everyone else is playing the supporting role. Where people should be there for us during the tough times, celebrate our victories, and support our quests. Maybe that's a selfish outlook on life but we're all designed this way to survive. Unfortunately, more often than not, most of the people we run into are too busy writing their own story (Good for them! Knock out those goals!) but sometimes we run into folks willing to go to bat for you. Assuming you're not a self-absorbed dictator, you lean in and play the supporting role for them as well. We call these folks, friends.

During my athletic career, I've had many highs and lows that have amplified and diminished my social network in parallel. Through the many painful iterations of seeing my friend groups grow and dissipate, I've been fortunate enough to find out who the really special people are in my life. Oh boo hoo, Brogan.  Maybe you've gone through some of these push pull friends? I had a great agent, sponsor (rabbit), and the best running support network in Des Moines. They supported me through my lows and I was going to carry them through my highs.

When I was at my lowest point, a couple days before all of my contract decisions were due, I had a former coach reach out and give me the most influential advice going forward. During his professional sprinting days he and his teammates became enslaved to contracts. They sold their souls to meet performance bonuses and forced fitness to meet contract deadlines, which ultimately sucked the fun out of running. Most of his teammates lost their passion for running and in the end stunted their professional careers.

​As many heartaches running has caused in my life, it's been the foundation for my happiness. Running in its simplest form is a getaway for millions of people to alleviate stress, make us healthy, and get us up in the morning. I had a stable job and balance in my life that I never had before that brought me to this success in the first place. I didn't want to ruin my relationship with running by signing a contract. I decided to keep the thing I love the thing I love and not the job that I have to get out the door to prove my worth. Maybe it's an ignorant decision but it's a decision I don't think I'll regret.

While it's a morbid thought, I often make decisions based on how I'd feel about them on my death bed. What story would I like to tell at the end of it all? What are the things that really mean something to me? What would I be most proud of? I think this is the story I want to create. 

 The rise, the peak, and the fall. A year in review.

Winning is everything. Second, ninth, one hundredth, they're all the same. Outside of your close knit friends and yourself, you can have mini milestones, personal records, breakthrough performances, disappointments and failures that your ride or dies will take notice. But toe the line as the winner, everything changes.

​(Part 1 - linked here)

The Process

A week after the US track championships, I dove straight into Tinman training. No gimmicks, nothing hard, nothing easy, just a well-balanced and scientific approach to training. In previous training plans, I'd make an emphasis on establishing a build, base, and peak phase. Where each phase had specific training components that would help me peak for a race down the road. Tinman's training was more of a hybrid training plan where we implemented all components of a build/base/peak training philosophy at the same time, which allowed me to feel sharp and mechanically efficient all year round. This was a completely new experience for me and for the first time in my life I didn't feet burnt out I felt ready to race on any given day. An idea that would have seemed mystical to me back in the day. Every week I'd see a gradual improvement, while remaining fresh. Everything was feeling easy and I was getting fast but I didn't really know how fast.

My first test was at the US 10 mile championships in Minneapolis, Minnesota. To say I was excited to test out my new fitness was an understatement. When the gun finally went off, I didn't hold back and took the field out in 9:05 through two miles (Strava). Heck, my high school PR in the two mile was 9:14. I was feeling fast… Super-fast. Never in my life had I felt so effortless. Ever since I had graduated college, I made the big hairy audacious goal to place top ten at a US championship event. Today was going to be my day!

With about a mile and a half left to go, my body began to form its own opinion on how the day was going to go. Side cramps started taking over and I had to unfortunately slow down to salvage my race. I've had a long history with cramps and they always seem to come at the most unfortunate time. Today was no different. I had to watch as my top ten place slipped away and waltzed in at 13th overall. I was disappointed but also energized with my performance as I had set a personal record by over a minute and knew there was a lot left in the tank if my body held up.

Back to the grinding stone I went.

Confidence

A month after the US 10 mile championships, I got a second chance to test my limits at the Indianapolis Monumental Half Marathon. I had just completed the best week of training in my life and workouts were finally clicking after 14 weeks of grinding. I knew I was due for a breakout day.

My goal going into the race was to run sub 63:20 which would put me under the Olympic Marathon trials standard of 64:00 and beat my personal record of 64:08. I was also fortunate enough to be racing with my former college teammate Reed Fischer who was gunning for 63:00 in his debut half marathon. I figured I would try to hang onto him as long as I could to accomplish my mission.

To save you all the boredom, it wasn't until mile 10 of the half marathon when my swag was born. I was hanging onto Edwin Kibichy and Reed Fischer as we crossed the 10 mile marker about 10 seconds off of 63:00 half marathon pace (4:48 per mile) after being on pace all race. A stroke of adrenaline hit me to get us back on pace so I took off and started clicking off 4:44 miles to get us back under. The faster I progressed, the better I felt. Never in my life had I felt so strong. Mile 11 4:44, Mile 12, 4:37, mile 13 4:35 (Strava) before breaking the tape in a new course record of 62:39. I was bigger and badder than I had ever imagined. I was back.

Shortly after the race, my agent called to congratulate me on my performance and gauge what this performance meant for my goals at the US marathon championships taking place a month later. I couldn't contain my newly discovered ego and confidently said I'd be going for the win. I even called a victory in a rabbit press release the week before the race. The big headed brogan was back.

The Peak

Never has running not been a part of my life or my identity. As soon as I was able, my dad mapped out a mile route for me to run and thus began the creation of my identity. Even while I was a baseball player, student, wrestler, coworker, or friend I was always identified as that guy who runs by my peers. An identity that I can't escape and an identity that I whole heartedly embrace.

I built my whole life around one characteristic only to find out that characteristic can fade away. I struggled and fought to bring that identity back for years only to dig a deeper grave through over-training. I was a nobody. My identity had vanished.

Seven years of a relentless pursuit to bring that identity back. I faced the struggle day in and day out. I failed for over 2,555 days. Over time, I found new outlets to define who I was through work, hobbies, friends and family but deep down I had a vendetta to prove what I was capable of. I knew I was better than my results and I was going to damn well prove it. You can talk about being a great runner all day but you better damn well prove it (Bear your fruit!)!

I was finally able validate all those years of hard work at the US marathon national championships. 

Welcome to the greatest 6 minutes of my life: https://youtu.be/1atLTMga7gE?t=7429 (start at 2:03:51)

​This race was something much bigger than a national title. This was a pursuit of finding me again. If I had given up on my pursuit, I never would have experienced the greatest moment of my life.

"if you give up on your dream, you'll never know when your next big breakthrough is about to happen."