Running for My Life: One Lost Boy's Journey From the Killing Fields of Sudan to the Olympic Games (17 page)

The thing about dreams, though, is they usually sound crazy to everyone but you. All it takes is one other person to buy into them to keep you going. At the start of our first cross-country practice of my junior year, Coach Paccia sent the entire team running up a hill that overlooked Tully High School. Tom Carraci and I took off in front of the rest of the team. Tom is the same friend who opened my locker for me every day my first year at Tully. Coach Paccia was supposed to run up the hill with us, but his bad knees kept him from keeping up with Tom and me.

Tom and I raced up the hill. I don’t remember who won that round. After all, this was just a warm-up for the real practice. We stood on top of the hill, hands on hips, trying to catch our breath. Down below, the lacrosse team practiced on one field, the football team on another. “Did I tell you, Tom, that I am going to run in the Olympics in 2008?”

“Only about a million times,” Tom said. “Tell you what: when you make the team, I am going with you to the Olympics. I don’t care where it is; I will be there to watch you run.”

Another member of the team, one of my best friends named Sean, came up at the same time. “Me too. When you run in the Olympics, I’m going too.”

“Really?” I said.

Tom looked at me with complete seriousness. “If anyone can do it, you can. And when you do, I’m going to be there.”

This was a big moment for me. I knew I had the ability to make my dream come true, but it is one thing to believe in yourself. It is something else entirely to have friends believe in you as well.

“It’s a deal, then,” I said. “You’re both going with me to Beijing, China, in 2008!”

“You got it,” Tom said. He shook my hand to seal the deal, as did Sean. 2008 was five years away. I was a skinny high school junior—well, sort of skinny. Mom fed me so well that I was starting to look more like a football player than a runner. That did not matter. My dream would come true.

My second year of high school in America I won the state cross-country final, which qualified me for the national regional high school championships. I finished twelfth in my region. The next year, my senior year, I did even better. After winning state, I finished in the top six in the national regionals. I then traveled to San Diego for the Foot Locker National High School Championships. I did not win the Foot Locker Championships, but I did well enough for college recruiters to come calling. Big schools recruited me, schools like Oklahoma, Florida, even Princeton. Unfortunately, my SAT scores kept me from qualifying for a Division 1 scholarship right out of high school. I could have gone to a nearby junior college to get my prerequisite classes out of the way. If my grades were good enough, I would have been eligible for a scholarship without my SAT scores.

But going to a junior college near Syracuse, or any other school in upstate New York, was not an option. Dominic and I graduated at the same time, and we both had the same plan for college. Of course, we planned on getting our degrees. Mom made it clear we had to get our degrees, end of discussion. However, the way we saw it, if we can get a college education anywhere, we ought to get it someplace warm. After three years in upstate New York, I’d had my fill of cold weather.

Mom came up with a highly scientific way of finding a college for two former lost boys who wanted to get out of the cold: during spring break, she loaded us in her car and drove south. We did not bother to stop anywhere in New York or Pennsylvania. Mom took us to a handful of colleges in Maryland, but none of them felt right to me. We kept going south.

On our second day of driving, we arrived in Virginia Beach, Virginia. Mom had set up an appointment for us at Norfolk State University. As soon as we drove onto the campus, I thought,
This is the place for me
. The campus tour sealed the deal. The day was warm, the campus green and beautiful, and the school seemed just the right size to me, not too small and not too large. Norfolk State also happened to be a predominantly black school, which appealed to me. I did not want to stand out in this new place.

Mom arranged for us to meet the track coach, but she kept the meeting very low-key. For her, academics and finding a place where we would actually graduate meant more than anything else. If she had mentioned the fact that I was the number one cross-country runner in the state of New York, the coach probably would not have let us leave until we signed letters of intent to attend and run cross-country and track. She didn’t, and we didn’t.

After a tour of the campus, we drove to the beach. I walked out on the sand and stared east. I knew Africa lay on the other side of the Atlantic. That made me feel connected to my homeland, while still being close enough to my new home for my mom and dad to drive down and visit. Syracuse was only nine hours away. That may seem like a long distance to some people, but not me. Norfolk State was the closest warm school I could find. I planned on staying there four years and leaving with my degree. Because I chose not to sign a letter of intent, I did not have a scholarship. Instead, I took out federal loans to pay for my school myself. To me, this was an investment in my future.

I chose not to run cross-country my first semester at school. Like I said, my grades and test scores in high school left something to be desired. My grades weren’t too bad considering I did not speak English when I arrived in New York in late July 2001. Still, I graduated high school on time in May 2004, just as my mom told me I would. All things considered, I felt very good about how far I’d come. However, I knew college presented a whole new set of challenges. Mom and Dad and I discussed it at great length and concluded I should not run right away so that I could adjust to the academic demands of college. I planned on running in the Olympics in 2008, but I had to take care of first things first. And that meant preparing to graduate college on time. Mom made sure of that.

Even though I did not go out for the cross-country team, I trained harder than I ever had. That was how I met one of the senior track stars for Norfolk, Tom Hightower. Tom and I hit it off immediately. He reminded me of my friends back in Kakuma, and he took care of Dominic and me the same way the older boys took care of the younger in the camp. The three of us ran down to the beach together nearly every day. When I run, I talk, and I told Tom about my big, Olympic dreams. He had to be a little skeptical when I first told him. After all, here I was, a freshman with the build of a football player who claimed to be a runner, a runner who didn’t even go out for the cross-country team. He was a senior and one of the top runners at the school. Yet, it did not take long for him to see the potential in me.

One day, Tom and I were hanging out in his apartment, eating pizza. “In two years I can apply for citizenship,” I told him, “and two years after that I am going to try out for the United States Olympic team.”

“I believe you. I think you can do it. But, if you want to run in the Olympics, Norfolk isn’t the right place for you.”

That was not what I expected to hear. As a senior leader of the cross-country and track teams, he should have pressed me to go out for the team. Instead he told me to leave. “What are you talking about?” I asked.

“You are better than this place.” Tom could tell from the look on my face that I still did not understand. “Lopez, you are an exceptional runner. You have more natural ability than anyone I have ever seen. But natural ability alone is not enough. There are a lot of good runners out there who never live up to their full potential. You need to go to a school that can teach you to get the most out of yourself.”

“Where do you think I should go?”

“Northern Arizona University in Flagstaff, Arizona. The school sits at a high altitude, which helps distance runners. I spent a summer out there training with their coach. He knows his stuff. He can get you to the Olympics.”

I didn’t know much about Arizona beyond the fact that it was hot and far from home. “Let me think about it,” I said.

“I’ll contact the coach and tell him about you. Also, because you didn’t go out for the team here this year, you still have all four years of eligibility left. That also means you won’t have to sit out a year when you transfer.”

“Don’t call Arizona’s coach. I can reach my dreams here. You and I can train together. That will be enough. You will see.”

“No it won’t, Lopez. I’m not as fast as you. You need to go up against guys who can really stretch you. You need to go to Northern Arizona.”

Tom made a lot of sense, but I had something more to consider. Mom and I had found Norfolk State together. Plus, Dominic loved it here. He didn’t want to transfer to Northern Arizona. The two of us had been inseparable since before he came to live with us. I was not sure I could leave without him. I also did not know how I could possibly tell Mom that I planned on transferring.

I didn’t need to worry. When I broke the news to her that I was even considering transferring, she smiled and said, “Joseph, I don’t care where you go to college, as long as you get your degree. That’s all that matters to me.” As for Dominic, both of us knew that eventually we had to go our own paths. Whether we shared an apartment in Norfolk or lived three thousand miles apart, we remained brothers. Nothing could change that.

But it was not as simple as that. The coach at Norfolk State did a little research when he saw Dominic and me running around the area. When he discovered our high school records, he wanted both of us on the cross-country and track teams. That summer, after our freshman year, he started recruiting us hard. I was back home in Syracuse talking to Mom and Dad when the coach called. Mom answered the phone. The coach must have figured he could make more progress with her than me, because he did his best to sell her on Norfolk State for both Dominic and me. “I have a full scholarship for Lopez,” he said. “No more school loans, no more worrying about how to pay for school. Everything will be taken care of,” he said.

Mom listened to what he had to say but was noncommittal. “It’s up to you, Joseph,” she told me. “You have to do what you think is right.”

I was torn. I had not even seen Northern Arizona University yet. I’d talked to the cross-country and track coach there, Coach Hayes, and he wanted me on the team. However, my math scores were not yet high enough to qualify for a scholarship at NAU. I had to take, and pass, another math class before he could commit anything to me.

I didn’t have to do anything more to qualify for a scholarship at Norfolk State. All I had to do was sign on the bottom line. I liked the school. I loved the weather. And I loved living next to the ocean. Arizona sat in the middle of the desert. Scenery wise, it could not compete with Norfolk.

The Norfolk coach called again the next day. Mom answered the phone. “Joseph, he wants an answer.”

“Tell him to give me five minutes. I need to go pray,” I said.

Five minutes didn’t give God much time to give me an answer, but I knew He already had a plan for my life. He was the One who gave me my gifts and my dreams, and He was the one who brought me to America. “Oh God, hear my prayers. Let my cry come to You,” I prayed. “I need to know what You want me to do, and I need to know it fast.”

Five minutes later the phone rang. Mom again answered the phone. “Just a minute,” I heard her say. She came into the living room where I was on my knees, praying. “What’s it going to be?” she asked.

“Tell him to give my scholarship to someone else. I’m going to Northern Arizona University. That is the place that will take me to the Olympics.”

Mom looked shocked by my answer. “What if you don’t get into school there?”

“Don’t worry. God wants me to go there.”

“Dominic wants to stay at Norfolk State.”

“All I can say to him is, ‘Enjoy.’ I am going to Northern Arizona.”

“Are you sure?” I could tell from her voice that she was worried.

“Yes, Mom. I’m sure. It will be okay. You will see.”

Mom smiled a nervous smile. “And you will get your degree,” she said.

I laughed. “Yes, and my degree,” I said. Northern Arizona might be the place that would take me to the Olympics, but it had also better be the place that took me to a degree. After all, that was the point of going to college, and I knew my mom would not let me forget it. Ever.

SEVENTEEN
Running for Joy

I
trotted around the track, warming up. The stands were full. CBS Sports cameras covered every angle of the track. I should have been nervous, but I was not. A few months earlier I faced the pressure of an NCAA championship final race when I won the 3,000 meter indoor. I was not nervous then, and I was not now. Coach Hayes walked over to me. “How do you feel, Lopez?”

I grinned. “Great. This is really fun,” I said.

Coach Hayes shook his head with a wide smile on his face. He assumed I had butterflies flopping around in my stomach. I didn’t. Not even close. “Remember, this is a tactical race,” he said. “You’re going up against a really strong field. Most of these guys specialize in the 1500, so you have to run smart out there.”

“Sure, Coach,” I said. “No problem.” Unlike my competitors, I did not have much experience in the 1500 but I had proven myself as a strong runner and we had a plan going into this race. The previous track season I ran the 800 almost exclusively. This season, I ran a little bit of everything, including the 800, relays, an occasional 400, and the 4-by-400 relay. Coach Hayes let me try all kinds of races to help me figure out which event best suited my skill set. I also volunteered for anything I could do to help the team score points.