Surround Yourself with Inspiring People or Consider Becoming One Yourself: How I Ran Near Olympic Medalists Yared Nuguse and Frank Shorter

Plus, book recommendations, a new class, and Bronco-shaped chicken nuggets!

I needed an idea for November’s Tumbleweed, but I’ve spent the past month collecting my annual vaccinations, planting daffodil bulbs, and combining coupons with sales to nudge my grocery bill lower. As riveting as those activities were, I couldn’t think of what to write about, so I went for a jog. I was plodding down a trail through open space, ten minutes from my house, grooving to Carly Rae Jepson, when a phalanx of fit runners cantered past me in the opposite direction, and there in the back row was an extremely familiar runner who must have been cooling-down or warming-up because he was smiling and moving slow enough for me to get a good look at him. It was none other than Olympic bronze medalist and NCAA champion Yared Nuguse.

Boulder, Colorado is rife with Olympians. My daughter’s good friend in elementary school was the daughter of an Australian Olympian. One of my son’s high school cross country coaches is an Olympian. At dawn, shoals of Olympic-caliber runners move in packs through my neighborhood, and in the winter, they all dress up in black spandex so that the men and women, equally slim and sleek, are indistinguishable and I think of them as The Speedy Stringbeans. I root for them as I make my way to the gym to attend my regular-person exercise class. No matter what I’m doing at any time of day, I can pause and think, “Some spectacular talent is outside training right now, putting in the extra work required for greatness,” and the thought occasionally inspires me to eat one less chip.

2023 World Athletics Championships Men’s 1500 meters final, photo by Erik van Leeuwen, https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Yared_Nuguse_2023_(cropped).jpg.

But, Tumbleweed readers, it remains thrilling to spot an Olympian in the wild, particularly one that I have personally cheered for during my biennial observance of advanced Olympic sloth and extreme television/couch commitment, an Olympian whose performance caused me to rise from the couch and jump up and down as I saw him win a medal on live TV.

Why? I think most of the famous people we are forced to learn about the existence of, the powerful people who have too much sway over our lives, are the opposite of inspirational. But not Olympians. We get to see them grit out a victory in a competition that lasts for a few minutes, knowing they have endured countless hours of difficult, thankless training to achieve that moment. They remind us of our own potential, even if we are not runners. They remind us that we can perhaps commit to greatness or at least modest improvement at whatever it is that we do, like daffodil planting.

You are probably wondering, “Did you say hello to Yared Nuguse and converse with him, and hopefully blurt something embarrassing?” Sorry friends, I did not. It took me a split second to realize who it was, and then my brain became roadblocked with the asymmetrical glut of tidbits that I know about him such as:

• In high school in Kentucky, Yared Nuguse didn’t plan to run until the track coach saw him sprinting ahead of his classmates during lunch to reach the McDonald’s on the corner first so he wouldn’t have to wait in line. The coach eventually coaxed him into joining the team.

• Yared Nuguse attended Notre Dame just like me.

• Yared Nuguse has always wanted to be an orthodontist.

• In 2023, Yared Nuguse ran a mile in 3:43.97, making him the fourth fastest miler in the history of humanity.

• According to his Instagram post, Yared Nuguse recently visited one of Colorado’s leading cultural institutions, Casa Bonita, with his family.

And here’s what Yared Nuguse would have known about me at that moment:

• Across from me on this path, there’s a middle-aged person wearing a purple shirt, moving in a way that she probably thinks of as running.

Yared Nuguse glided past before I could formulate any way to express my admiration. If I had come up with something to say, it probably would have been confusing and vaguely stalkerish, like “Did you enjoy the sopapillas at Casa Bonita? You can never put too much honey on them.”

Still, I like to think that I am contributing, in some small way, to Yared Nuguse’s future victories by pounding down that stretch of path three times a week, possibly smoothing it out and averting any potential ankle sprain for him.

And this wasn’t the first chance I’d missed to embarrass myself in front of a running celebrity on that same stretch of path. A year or two ago on a hot day, I was sweating my way home, wearing a t-shirt from the Bolder Boulder 10K, when a vaguely familiar older gent heading in the opposite direction gave me a broad smile and said, “Way to go!”

I smiled back, but for a moment I was puzzled—did I look like I was struggling so much to move that I especially needed to be encouraged, or I would perhaps not survive? But as soon as I was far enough past him that I could no longer respond, I realized: that was Frank Shorter. Shorter, for the non track-heads out there, won a gold and a silver medal in the Olympic marathon, is credited with launching the U.S. running boom, and helped found the Bolder Boulder in 1979, hence why he was happy to see me jogging in a shirt from the race.

Frank Shorter in 2022, photo by Lance Cpl. Kayla LeClaire, https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Frank_Shorter_47th_Marine_Corps_Marathon_Hall_of_Fame_dinner_7486238.jpg

We all become a bit discouraged from time to time, so we need inspiring people around to spark our spirits up. I am fortunate that I can roll out of bed and find such people on the nearest running path. And who knows, I might even be serving as the inspiring person to Yared Nuguses and Frank Shorters of the world, who might think as they catch a momentary glimpse of me: “Wow, look at her, still moving even though it’s evidently quite difficult for her. Maybe I can crank my training up a notch.”

By all means, friends, turn that training up a notch at whatever it is you like to do, and win that medal for me. From my couch, I will be rooting for you. I might even stand up and cheer.

The Assorted Whimsy Portion of The Tumbleweed

My son competed in the Colorado state cross country race on November 1 in Colorado Springs, and I loved walking around and looking at all the names of mascots from the different schools, like this one from Rocky Ford, the town known for growing the best cantaloupes and watermelons:

A chicken went to see a fortune teller, received this prediction and had no idea what it meant: “In the afterlife, you will be transfigured into the shape of a head of a bronco.”

This is why it’s important to learn math, kids. If you don’t, you might fall for this King Soopers sign that cheekily asserts that one cent off is a “sale.” (Regular price: $3.50 in fine print.)

See, I told you I have been studying grocery prices this month! (Can you take one cent off anymore, now that pennies are no longer with us?)

The Book Recommendation Portion of The Tumbleweed

I just finished teaching a class on writing short stories, so I want to recommend an excellent story collection. Julia Elliott’s masterful second story collection Hellions asks urgent questions about humanity’s connection to ancient traditions and our place in nature amid environmental degradation and tech distractions of the modern world.

But Hellions is way more fun than that description makes it sound. These funny, feminist tales laced with magic are consistently diverting as rule breakers raid food hoards, raise a pet alligator, soar to uncanny heights on a trampoline, smoke at age 12, visit prehistory through magic dating apps, and follow primal urges. Elliott writes sensory, sensual prose turned up to 11, with visual, olfactory, and tactile descriptions that explode in bursts of color, scent, and feeling. These rich and surprising stories, grounded in archetypal imagery, will linger in your head and heart the way a spent firework shimmers in the night sky before fading.

The Happenings & Links Portion of The Tumbleweed

• Next year, I’ll be teaching a four-week zoom class about revision for Lighthouse Writers Workshop from February 9-March 2. Come join me for Seeing the Big Picture: Techniques for Revising Fiction and Nonfiction Books on Mondays from 6:30-8:30 p.m.

• My story collection Mixed Company doesn’t have an official audiobook release, but I learned it has been recorded for the Colorado Talking Book Library, a resource for people who can’t read standard print. It was narrated by Stephanie Briggs for the Colorado Collection, and it even achieved a warning note for “some strong language.” I hope Ice Cube is proud of me.

• One of my dear former students at the Mile High MFA, Sarah Elgatian, is publishing a poetry chapbook with Stone Corps Press called Effigy. Sarah is a brilliant writer and you can pre-order the book for just ten bucks! Sarah is the Program & Marketing Specialist at the Midwest Writing Center, which you should check out for all your writing needs in the Quad Cities area of Iowa and Illinois.

  

• I love good news, so please share yours with me for the next Tumbleweed!

As always, The Tumbleweed welcomes your questions and comments about writing, reading, taco eating, the Denver Nuggets, track & field, rabbit wrangling, Deion Sanders, and baby seals.