Throughout this article, I'd like to paint you all an immaculate image of my summer and all I did to escape the societal rut of high school. I've had a good summer, indeed, but usually at this time of the year I always start to get excited about the prospect of being able to compete again in cross-country, and, so, knowing that, the blow of having to go back to school for a seemingly endless period is lessened, however slightly.
At the start of the summer, I was approached by a mysterious group; they went by a misspelled adaptation of "boys", calling themselves the "Track Boizzzz", pronounced with an extra hard emphasis on the "z's". This group included six individuals: a kid named Nicholas Dall, street name "Snickers," Paul Casavant, the CORNELL UNIVERSITY distance athlete also known as "The Big Deal," Josh Bloom, known as "Hormones," Griffin Maristany, known as "Huge Bodybuilder," Owen Concaugh, called "Fibula Noodle Arms," and Johann Bradley, the superstar vaulter known as "Stump." I regarded their advances rather cautiously at first, as I'm very against any sort of unorthodox behavior, but they abruptly offered me a spot in their ranks to which I rather hesitantly admit I felt an odd attraction to. I don't know whether it was the transient mysteriousness and ambiguity the group possessed or the feeling of close familial connection, but I was compelled to enter this upmarket domain. The first few days were the hardest, the jokes were brutal and while the group called themselves a family, the playful, yet gouging roasts on fellow group members were often quite barbaric, subsiding shortly after, to my gratitude. Nevertheless, after a couple of days was complete, I became a fully functioning "Track Boiii," with my own personal nickname, "Young Salt." I take great pride in that title today, as I have adopted it in some other areas of my life as well.
Through our Messenger chats day in and day out, weeks and weeks on end, we discussed some very heavy issues in our culture today, including topics like Mo Farah, girls, Kim Jong Un, and music. Snickers and I had an ongoing debate about whether Mo Farah is indeed the greatest of all time (GOAT) for three weeks straight, to which we still haven't reached a consensus. I am still convinced that if Mo Farah had been running in the Kenenisa Bekele and Haile Gebrselassie eras, he wouldn't have nearly as many championship gold medals, but I'll give him some credit considering he created his own era in track and field history. So as soon as Acadian Running Camp came around the corner, the Track Boizz, or at least part of them anyways, were coming in full force for the couple days. There, we had almost half the group show up and it was a great week with the Maine running community.
So ever since my admittance to this exclusive lifestyle as a Track Boii, my running career has never been the same, and I say with complete confidence that the Track Boizzz groupchat has no apparent purpose in this complicated world. So besides the exciting memories with the Track Boizzz and a cool trip out to Colorado a couple weeks ago where I spent five days at altitude hiking and running, my summer has been the same as previous years, where I basically just run a lot and spend some quality time at the lake.
I'm getting ready for a big year in cross-country and track, a year I like to call "legacy year," as it creates the biggest mark on what you'll leave behind in high school. I have some big goals for myself and my team, but at the end of the day I really just want to enjoy the process and the experience. So best of luck to everyone this fall, and I hope to see you all break some new ground and keep Maine rolling this year. I hope that together we can help inform some out-of-staters that, yes, Maine is an actual place where actual people live.
Peace out, Maine! Keep being the best place in the world that no one has ever been to.
Luke