Do you know where Ben Hearon ran his 800m PR? At a New England Championships. Do you know where Ben ran his 1000m PR? At a New England Championships. Do you know where Ben ran his 1500m PR? Actually…it was at the All New England Championships, but only after throwing down a PR at NESCACs two weeks prior.
Ben and this team had a beautifully cyclical relationship. I watched as this squad fueled him. It drove him to his absolute best and motivated him through dark times. We were a staple for him through his four years at Williams. But the reverse was also true. Ben was our rock. His consistency served as an anchoring point for us. His omnipresent support was a guiding force. And his calming energy stabilized us.
The easy post to write would be about Ben’s performance at NESCACs his sophomore year. That day, he anchored our 4x800m relay. He was our exclamation point at the end of a great team day. Admittedly, we put him in a situation where he was outgunned. He was a developing 2nd-year going up against a number of seniors and All American anchor legs. I couldn’t even begin to tell you what must have gone through Ben’s mind as he watched his our 3rd leg hammer down the homestretch shoulder to shoulder with the rest of the pack.
Honestly, I don’t want to know. Because it didn’t matter. From our perspective, any avalanche of emotions pouring down on Ben was imperceptible. He was locked in. He threw down.
It was moment that epitomized the fearlessness bravery with which Ben lives his life. Ben steps up. Ben demands your best. Ben always has your back. Please know that I very consciously use the word bravery here. (Trust me, I’ve had hundreds of conversations with my kids about the difference between bravery and fearlessness).
Bravery isn’t the absence of fear…it’s born from it. Bravery requires fear to be firing on all cylinders and then allows the moment to overpower it. That race epitomized Ben and personified our team that day.
But this isn’t about Ben’s sophomore year. That would be too easy. This is actually about Ben’s junior year. This isn’t about one of Ben’s fastest races, it’s about one of his slowest. And more specifically, it’s about the months that led up to it. Because those months tell us more about Ben than any mere 2 laps of a track could ever begin to portray.
As I said, Ben was our rock. When I walked into Paresky at 7:30am for breakfast and coffee, Ben was sitting there. When I sent an email out to the team, Ben responded in seconds. Practice started at 4:15…Ben’s sitting there at 3:55. You need a pick up after a tough race or workout? That’s Ben’s hand reaching down.
That’s why it felt great to watch Ben crush his junior year indoor season. He narrowly missed Nationals by a few ticks in the DMR and seemed to be flying into the outdoor season. But then his motor started to fade. Workouts got harder. It got tougher to wake up. Ben was no longer sitting there when I rolled in at 7:30. It turned out that a rough case of mono had put a governor on Ben’s motor.
Immediately, we knew that the man who hammered down the homestretch anchoring our entire team at the 2018 NESCAC Championships would not be the same person in 2019. It felt like a real punch in the gut. I had no idea that what we would get would be something even better.
Despite mono, Ben stepped up huge. He doubled down on his presence. He found countless ways to make this team better. He gave his body what it needed. More sleep, more days off, more rest. Equally important, he gave his teammates what they needed. More motivation, a louder voice, workout splits, or company while cross-training. And then Ben started to claw his way back. What once felt like moving a mountain started to return to normal.
Still far from his true physical potential, Ben returned to the track. And nothing made me happier. The worst thing you can do to a true competitor is to rob them of the opportunity to compete – to put them on sidelines. The smile on Ben’s face as he got to lace up the spikes again and his joy of throwing down a 2:02 that day brought me so much happiness.
The best part was that Ben’s rusty 2:02 actually earned him a spot at NESCACs the following Saturday. The problem was that it proved to be one of the most brutal Saturdays of the last 20 years. Temperature in the mid 30’s and raining. Typical Vermont Track & Field at its best. You didn’t want to be outside for 15 minutes that day. Let alone at a 10-hour, marathon track meet. And the driving wind and wintry mix quickly made the day feel like an ultra-marathon.
That’s where Ben came in. Our rock.
A miserable day. The slow heat of the 800m. Still recovering from mono. I’m sure each of these thoughts flickered into Ben’s mind. But they drifted away as quickly as they bubbled up. Each one drowned out in the wake of “This is the f%$ing NESCAC Championships…let’s do this thing.”
Ben attacked his race. Freezing wind in his face on the back stretch. You were looking at track in its purest form.
Step up to the line. Do work. See who comes out on top.
And Ben came out on top. Absolutely hammering on the home stretch, wind at his back, Ben sent the same message he sent the year before…”We’re here to throw down. We’re not giving you anything. You better come and take it.”
We immediately felt his presence. Ben had shown our first-year, Jett Ballantyne, how we do things at NESCACs. In the next heat, Jett stepped up and matched Ben. He sprinted home to win the 2nd section. Tristan then followed suit in the fast section with his own competitive battle the team felt renewed vigor to finish what we started.
Ben had done what he did everyday. He gave everything he had and he made everyone around him better. He was a rock for his team in the middle of a storm. Sophomore Ben Hearon impressed me with his bravery and tenacity. Junior Ben Hearon went above and beyond.
Ben Hearon – for your heart, the one that poured so much into its teammates and the one that never backed down from anything, for your eloquence, for your patience, and for being all in, whether in uniform or not – I thank you.
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