The Price of a Dream: An NCAA Champion’s Tale

What would you sacrifice to accomplish your dream?

For me – especially in cross country – the answer has been “Everything.”

I’ve built my life around absolutes. I thrive on the black and white, the simple truth that you either win or you lose. There is no middle ground, no comfortable gray area where you can hide.

An individual national title sits at the top of the sport. Some call it the “unicorn” of distance running – rare, elusive, almost mythical. You can win titles on the track, but cross country demands something different. It draws on every part of you: the speed of the 1500, the strength of the 10k, the grit that fills the gaps. It asks for the whole athlete, not just one piece.

No sport demands more complete physical and mental focus than cross country. To be holistically focused in mind and body is something that not everyone can do. I’ve met many runners more gifted than me, but they lacked the mindset to turn hard work into victory.

And I know that whatever I do in life, I want to do it so I can be the best at it. Some may call me overly competitive or obsessive, but if I were to pick a winner in a race, I choose the obsessed one over the gifted one, every single time – all things equal.

That is why, to truly prove myself, I had to win one.

November 19, 2022 – The Point of No Return

I came across the line as the national runner-up after battling 8k across the frozen, snow-laden tundra that was the Forest East Akers Golf Course in East Lansing, Michigan. I finished less than three seconds behind Alex Phillip of John Carroll – but it felt like an eternity.

Alex congratulated me and said, “Next year, it’s all yours.” His words stuck in my mind like a stick trapped in ice. It felt like both a promise and a burden. I didn’t want to wait until next year. I wanted to win now.

November 18, 2023 – The Razor’s Edge

New course. New year. Same mindset.

Same result – only by an even larger margin.

National runner-up again. This time, I finished 18 seconds behind Ethan Gregg of UW-La Crosse.

I was mentally ready to contend that day, but my body didn’t match the fire in my mind. I’d raced every meet that season as it might be my last, pouring everything into every stride. That hunger to win came with a price. By the time I toed the line on an 8k course that would demand the most out of me, my body felt worn thin.

Many times in a season we get tunnel vision and lose sight that all eyes should be on winning in November, not in September or October. My ambition to win outweighed my patience.

July 12, 2024 – Payment Due

That loss made me train harder than I ever had.

As the weight of being second best for two years in a row anchored me, I dove deeper into trying to play aerobic catch-up. In the summer of 2024, I tried to push my body to where my mind believed it could be. My Achilles would pay the price and I got so injured that I could not run for the better part of two months. I went into my final season as the favorite for the title, yet did not run most of the summer. Imagine that.

I spent the rest of the season getting back into fitness and building my confidence. I did not care I was at risk to hurt my body: I simply had no choice but to win. I don’t know who I would’ve been if I didn’t win. Not only did I need it, but my team needed me to be a reliable low stick for a team trophy. Every point mattered and I needed to get the least amount possible.

November 23, 2024 – Heavy is the Head that Wears the Crown

A stampede of runners cascaded across the LaVern Gibson Championship Cross Country Course, and I got lost in the masses. Even though my goal was to win, I sat in 98th place through the first 1k. I trusted myself, though, and knew that I needed to rely on patience. The leaders were only five seconds ahead and I could easily make that up.

By 4k, I cracked the top ten amongst the who’s who of Division III that year. All of whom wanted nothing more than to leave me empty-handed once again. And I knew from experience that many in the top ten could run fast – but not everybody could race. There is a difference. So for me to win, I had to execute at every 1k split and bide my time, because while you can’t win an 8k in the first 4k, you can certainly lose it.

As the race whittled down to three, I knew victory was in sight and my conservative plan to stalk in the back of groups and let others do the work would pay off. With every step, my hubris grew larger knowing that I had executed this race to near perfection.

And then I kicked. I kicked like every demon from the past two years chased me.

I came across that finish line with a brief euphoric high. The past two years of pain and sorrow had finally resulted in accomplishing my goal. I was the national champion. But was that feeling that led to that high happiness or was it relief? 

November 22, 2025 – How Bad Do You Want It?

Nearly one year later, I sit here reflecting on my career.

I know that I won six national titles, but I could have won more. I should have won more.

This is a prime example of being critical and holding myself to a higher standard. They say that comparison is the thief of joy. While that may be true, comparison is not the thief of motivation. I needed to prove to myself, and to everybody else, that I needed to win that cross country title.

Need. Not want.

Whatever you chase in life, ask yourself what you’re willing to sacrifice for it. Because if you’re not willing to give something up for it, perhaps you never wanted it badly enough.