"Dada"

Hello everyone!

Lately I've found myself thinking about seasons. Not just the obvious ones like summer turning into fall, but the seasons God walks us through. Sometimes we spend so much time praying for the next chapter that we forget to appreciate the one we're currently living in. Other times, we hold onto a season so tightly that we don't realize God has already started writing the next page.

The last time I wrote, I shared that I was stepping away from the pursuit of professional running. That wasn't an easy decision. For so many years, my identity revolved around chasing the next PR, the next race, the next opportunity to see how much more I could get out of myself.

It's funny how four months can change your perspective. Looking back now, I honestly scratch my bald head wondering, "How did I keep that pace up for so long?" For years, nearly every day revolved around training. Early mornings, evening runs, recovery, stretching. I loved the process, but it often meant less time and energy for the people waiting for me at home.

Now those hours look a little different. Instead of squeezing in another workout, I'm taking trips to the park with Judah, riding bikes around town, and stopping to say hello to every puppy we can find. Every night before bed he asks for a "Momma hug" and then a "Dadda hug." He's only two years old, still wears diapers, and somehow reminds me every day what actually matters.

The older I get, the more I realize how short these years really are. Before I know it, he'll be leaving for college, building a life of his own, and creating memories that don't include me every day. I don't want to look back wishing I had done more workouts or chased another accomplishment. I want him to remember that his dad was there.

That doesn't mean I've stopped loving competition. If anything, God has simply redirected where that passion gets poured.

After coaching at Fort Hays State since 2021, and really being part of the Tiger family for nearly a decade as an athlete, graduate student, and coach, this summer brought an unexpected change. Both Kelly and I invested a huge part of our lives into that program. Walking away was bittersweet, and there will always be gratitude for the people who helped shape us along the way.

Around that same time, Hays High reached out again. If you had asked me a year ago whether I'd ever coach high school, I probably would've laughed. That wasn't the plan. But sometimes the plans we make for ourselves aren't the ones God has been preparing all along.

I've only been through four practices, so maybe I'm still in the honeymoon phase, but I absolutely love it. College coaching and high school coaching are different, but they're built on many of the same foundations: believe in people, care about them, help them enjoy the sport, and teach them that running is about so much more than running.

This sport has taught me discipline when I lacked it, humility when I needed it, and perseverance when quitting would've been easier. Some of my closest friendships have come through running, and so has my faith. If I can help a few young athletes discover those same lessons, I'll consider that a pretty successful coaching career.

Another unexpected blessing this summer has been something much simpler: riding my bike to work. Most mornings I wake up tired and every excuse starts creeping into my mind. "Just drive today." "You'll ride tomorrow." But I hop on the bike and head out, and not once have I regretted it. By the time I get rolling, I'm smiling.

It's funny how often that's true in life. The things we resist are often the very things that bring us joy once we finally begin. Whether it's riding a bike, spending intentional time with family, or stepping into a new opportunity, the hardest part is usually just getting out the door.

Someone recently asked me a question that has been sitting with me: "What do you do?" Most of us immediately think about our jobs. I could tell you I work in Student Affairs at Fort Hays State. I could tell you I'm coaching cross country at Hays High. I could tell you I spent the last seven years chasing professional running. Those things are true, but they aren't the most important thing about me.

The greatest title I'll ever have isn't coach.

It isn't runner.

It isn't director.

It's Dad.

It's husband.

When Judah runs across the room because he's excited to see me, he doesn't care what I accomplished that day. He doesn't care how fast I used to run. He just wants his dad. And Kelly, my best friend since we started dating back in 2012, doesn't need another accomplishment from me. She needs a husband who is present.

I'm learning that success isn't always measured by what the world applauds. Sometimes success looks like making it home in time for bedtime hugs. Sometimes success is trusting that God can close one door while quietly opening another you never expected.

I'm still learning what this season looks like, but I can already tell you this: I'm thankful for it.

Thank you all for continuing to follow along with this journey. I don't know exactly what God has planned next, but I've learned that His plans have always been better than the ones I've tried to write for myself.

Love y'all,

Brett