When the email titled “End of season” popped up on my laptop indicating an abrupt end to my collegiate running career, I decided not to react. A day earlier, I was thinking about what to pack for Dartmouth Track & Field’s spring training trip to Raleigh, and now, because of COVID, I didn’t even have a “next race” on the calendar. I silenced the group text messages flooding my phone, saved the final exam paper I was working on, and headed straight for our team locker room. After quickly changing into tights and a long sleeve, I set out for a solo run. No distance, no route in mind. I just set out across Ledyard bridge towards Norwich, Vermont and ran until I wanted to turn around. I pressed the pace and enjoyed the bliss of not thinking. 8 miles will do, I thought, but I was 4 miles out and had no interest in turning around. 15 miles later, I finished the run smiling and empty in that ~I feel I can conquer anything~ way. At the time, March 11th, 2020, that was my longest run ever. Big news for this middle-distance runner.

That spring, a few of my teammates began the recruiting process to compete for a 5th year, but I knew my next step was to head to Raleigh, NC, where I had a job lined up that I was really excited about (I currently work as an Asset Management Analyst at PNC Private Bank). I started running higher mileage and farther distances than I ever had before, exploring trails and routes around the Upper Valley (parts of Vermont and New Hampshire).. I decided that I needed a goal, something that I could work towards outside from taking online pass/fail classes from a small desk in an off-campus house. My friend and teammate Lauren (I know, confusing right?) and I decided to set a goal of running 20.20 miles together after our final college exams to “celebrate” graduation. That run confirmed what I was starting to realize…I have a knack for this distance stuff!

26.2 excited me: twice the distance of my longest college long run, twenty-six times the distance of my primary middle-distance event (the Mile), a number I laughed at just two years earlier when a teammate asked on a cooldown after an Indoor Track meet at Boston University if I’d ever run heartbreak hill at Boston in the future (to which I replied “yeah right”). Gels, doubles, “tapering” – I was curious. I pulled up Google and an Excel spreadsheet (big spreadsheet girl over here) and started crafting a training plan for myself. 12 weeks later I was on a starting line again, the good kind of nervous and ready to expect the unexpected.

As I understand it, after running the marathon you either feel one of two ways: 1) I am NEVER doing that EVER again or 2) when can I start training for the next one? Holding that BQ t-shirt for a photo after the race, I was certain: I am doing that all over again. I started feeling more and more sure that I wanted to continue pursuing running competitively, and that scared me a little bit at first. After graduation, I had made a promise to myself: see what life is like without “having to run every day.” I’m generally pretty good at keeping promises, but this time was an exception. Competitive running has shaped, guided and changed my life since I started as a 9-year-old, and I realized that I didn’t want that to change. I did have my hesitations: Did I want to keep having to find rogue routes while traveling (yes, I’ve run 10 miles around a ~200m cow pasture before)? Did I want to “selfishly” make family and friends accommodate my runs into plans? Did I want to say no to a late night out because of a morning workout the next day? Did I want to have to keep… foam rolling?! Did I have a secret hidden talent that I haven’t explored because I’ve been too busy running (ok, this is a little extreme... but maybe!)? And ultimately, the thought of not seeing what more I could accomplish as a runner was what made me most uneasy. I’ve had multiple people ask me recently, “Why continue to prioritize running when you can do other things? What do you even want to get out of it?” For me, it’s not so much about what I can get out of it, as it is what I can put into the process of chasing the elusive boundaries of my potential: grit, trust, patience, commitment, heart.

Before being introduced to RDP, I didn’t know what post-collegiate competitive running could look like for someone deciding to pursue a full-time job. After taking a step away from a team environment since graduating, I now realize how important having a team is to me: it’s how I can share my joy for the sport and train to my maximum potential. I am inspired and energized by my new teammates who work full-time jobs and/or attend medical/graduate school but aren’t afraid to set high racing goals and work together to help each other reach them. Joining RDP, supported by teammates and sponsors, gives me unwavering confidence in my ability to continue to pursue competitive running at a high level, without apology.

It’s incredibly exciting to see my potential growing with each workout alongside these ladies. They’ve challenged me to aim high, be bold and bet on myself. If a goal doesn’t scare you a little bit, it’s probably not set high enough. I’m ready to tackle distances from the 5k to the marathon and know that I’ll be supported by RDP every step of the way. I also am excited to be working with Coach Stephen Furst whose experienced guidance and calculated training keeps me level-headed, patient and goal oriented. (Let me tell you, you can learn a lot about training on Google, but what you can’t learn is when adding an extra rep to your workout when you’re already in pain is the best move for your fitness two weeks from now). As I find myself looking forward to twenty-mile long runs and eighty-mile weeks, I wonder if there’s a catch. There isn’t. It’s the start of a new chapter of my running career, and I think I’ll title it “Aim high, be bold, bet on yourself.”

~ Lauren Archer