Beginnings...Part One

Where to begin? When writing of one's life, or of one's running life, where does one start? Too much information and the reader gets bored. Not enough information the reader gets frustrated. The real story begins last year, however, a brief history of how I got here couldn't hurt.
I was a moderately successful high school runner. I ran socially throughout the years leading up to my junior year, where I made the realization that I could be good at this. We had some success both in Cross Country and Track and at the end of four years it was time to move on.
The college years brought more of the same, minus the success. After choosing a small DIII school, I again ran Cross Country and Track and had an immediate impact. This was a small team at a small school in a small conference. A very young group of guys made up the majority, with the upperclassmen there as more of a leadership/comic relief role. Our shining moment came in a 4th of 8 place finish at our conference meet. I always took my running and my training seriously, but with lack of success came a lack of ambition, which quickly took over my academic life. So, after 5 years (yeah, I did the whole "semester off" routine) I left school with no degree and pretty low self esteem. I had failed for the first time in my life.
With no degree and no money, moving back to my home town seemed like the only real choice I had. The plan being to get a job and save up some money and then move out west (go west young man!) This was 2003.
Fast forward to 2009. Still living in my home town I had established quite a successful career as a bartender at the local shit hole. I still hadn't pick up a pair of running shoes since I moved home and I was developing a large tolerance for Jagermeister. Things were going great (insert sarcastic tone here). Then I got fired. Although far from rock bottom, I had hit an all time low. That is until I met Justen.

To be continued...