In 2017, I received one of the highest honors of my life. Pinkerton Academy nominated me (I had no idea) and announced (stunning me) that they would induct me into their Hall of Fame. I still think it is crazy, especially when I look at all of the other inductees. For the induction ceremony, they told me I had 5 minutes and I intended to stick to it. But what to say? Below is what I went with, which tells you where my head was at during this time. It was emotional for me. My voice was certainly not steady for the last two sentences.

Coach Wally Roberts sparked the idea of providing history and encouragement through performance records. He died just a year and a half after the meeting I mention here. This entire website is a result of my own idiosyncrasies and interests launched by his spark. I’ve done similar work for my kids’ swim team and to a lesser extent their volleyball teams.  But this site is also in my way a thank you, and an acknowledgement, and a payment forward.

When I was notified of this induction, it took me a while – weeks, actually – to get some perspective on this. Pretty heady stuff. But I came to something, which is why I appreciate this award so much. We all want affirmation, and this is an affirmation, to me anyway . . . that I’m doing something right in this life. I’m doing something right in this life.

But I have learned something else. I re-kindled my relationship with Pinkerton in 2012, not that I had turned away from it, just competing focuses, 3,000 miles. I came back to New Hampshire in late spring, home from California on business. On a complete lark I decided to go over to Pinkerton to catch my former track coach at practice in his final season, 20 years after he had coached me.

By that time, I had reached some level of maturity and understood that he had put time into me and others, and that my life would have taken a very different path without him. Maybe not worse, probably not better, but certainly different. And with some perspective, I wanted to say Thank You.

So I did meet with my coach that spring day five years ago. A series of events sparked that led to my introduction or re-connection with all of the running coaches and the NH running scene. And I got so excited talking to him again, got hooked by his enthusiasm for a team that won the Division Championship a week later, got so caught up in everything I forgot why I had come there. I forgot to say, “Thank you.”

I’m going to carry that regret, but I use it to remind me and to tell you this. Let’s just say you teach for 20 years, 25 kids a class, 5 classes a year. That’s 2,500 kids in your classroom alone. The number grows quickly if you coach, mentor clubs or other groups. It is statistically improbable that I am the only one that understands your influence, impossible that I am the only one that just hasn’t found the venue, the timing, to say thank you.

So, if I can be so bold as to speak on their behalf, please hear me now. If you are a teacher, a coach, a parent, a manager, anyone who has given of yourself to develop another.

You are heard.

You will be remembered long after you are present.

And you’re doing something right in this life.

Thank you.