Playing hockey most of my life, I never thought I would end up on the track instead of the ice, swapping my stick and skates for running sneakers, and achieving much more with less equipment. Given how late I picked up running, I certainly did not expect to be running for a Division I program, yet here I am.
I started running varsity my sophomore year, and proceeded to win my section for cross country three years in a row, once in the sophomore-only championship race, and twice in the varsity race.
This journey has taught me many valuable life lessons and helped me grow as an athlete and a person; it has molded me to strive for greatness while doing what is best for myself.
As a freshman on the cross country/track and field team at Marist University, I still have a ways to go. While the journey has been anything but linear, I could not be happier with where I am currently.
Hockey Fever
Since I was young, sports have been a huge part of my life. My parents signed me up for almost everything; soccer, basketball, flag football, baseball. While I enjoyed all these sports, it was not until I tried hockey at five years old that I found my “thing.” The next nine years of my life were spent on the ice.
My love for hockey grew more with each practice and game. I spent four days a week on the ice and more time on the road, traveling through New Jersey, Long Island, and even Connecticut and Pennsylvania for most away games– sometimes at the crack of dawn, which my dad dreaded.
Hockey had me hooked when I played goalie for a year when my team didn’t have one. After that year in pads and behind a mask, I had to catch up to everyone else’s abilities but I did not care.
As I got older, my skills developed. I became a faster skater, one of the fastest on my team, and my shots became stronger. I worked hard every second I was on the ice, which my coaches took notice of, saying I was one of the hardest workers on the team.
Hockey gave me nothing but good things during this time, and I felt it would get better as I got older.
Everything was going great until the COVID-19 pandemic. I remember exactly where I was when the quarantine was announced: on the way home from hockey practice.
I thought this scare would only last a few weeks and tryouts would happen like normal. Boy was I wrong.
Derailed. A single word to describe the feeling of no tryouts, no season, and no high school hockey.
All of that was put on hold.
It was not until August I suited back up and hopped on the ice, but something was just off. I did not enjoy hockey as much as I used to. I was not excited to be at the rink anymore and it was more of a burden than a joy to be on the ice. For the first time, hockey just felt like a total bummer.
I wanted to quit, but I was afraid of what my friends would say. I did not want to let them down, I was taught to never quit on anything and I felt I would be weak if I did.
Hanging up the Skates
After a long talk with my parents, I decided it was time to hang up the skates in my freshman year of high school.
I just gave up something that defined my life for so many years, that I sacrificed all my free time for, my outlet when life was too much—was gone. I felt lost, not knowing where to go next, or what to try.
Any other sport, I would have needed to play my whole life to sniff a high school roster. I felt hopeless, I did not have anywhere to go or anything to call my passion.
I then heard about track and field through one of my friends who ran at the time, suggesting I should join. I set up a meeting with the coach at my school, but I was too scared to show up, so I had to make another one.
Thankfully, I showed up that time, and my track and field career officially began.
I remember being so afraid to show up for that first practice. So many thoughts ran through my head, “What if I get cut,” “What if I get left behind,” “What if the guys there don’t like me?”
A part of me thought about turning back and going home, that this would not be for me. To my surprise, the guys were nice and inclusive, and there were a lot of freshmen which made me more comfortable. The first workout went great, and I was ready to come back.
Before I knew it, I ran in my first track meet. My coach put me in the 800, hoping to not come in last. I ran 2:27, which was good for the first time running a race, a sub-5 minute pace! That next week I ran the mile for the first time.
I was scared going into it, this was about to be the most distance I had run at the time. I prayed that I would not gas out. I ran a 5:23 in my first-ever mile and was second in my heat. Positive thoughts finally began rushing in, maybe this was the right choice. I could not wait for cross-country season.
New Passion, Same Ideals
From there, the rest was history. Running became my new passion. There would not be a day I missed practice and I always gave my all, something I adopted from my hockey days.
I won the individual city and sectional championship for cross country in my senior year, being the first runner from my school to do so since 1979 and 1985, setting the fastest time in my school’s history at the state championship meet.
I met some of my best friends and brothers through the sport and I keep in touch with them to this day.
All these achievements and my newfound talent caught the attention of different college programs, one of them being Marist. Committing to a Division I school is one of my greatest accomplishments and getting this opportunity from Coach Pete Colaizzo is something I am forever indebted to.
I feel so much happier knowing that I found something that kept me going, that gave me a reason to get up every day, that I would look forward to doing, that I could dedicate myself to.
If you pulled 13-year-old Justin to the side and told him where he would be today, he probably would have called you crazy.
If you ever feel unhappy where you are, or feel something is not working out, do not lose hope. Sometimes, the best thing you can do is put the skates down and find something that works. There’s something out there for everyone, and my journey shows that.
Edited by Aidan Lavin and Marley Pope
Graphic by Quinn DiFiore; Photos from Marist Athletics
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