It took nothing more than waiting until 10:24pm last night to figure out that magic that I’ve been talking about. I took a break from drinking unhealthy amounts of coffee and walked over to the track. I had been there since 12:30pm and was a bit bleary eyed, ready to go back to the house, ready to put on some dry clothes, and ready to thaw out. But as I got down onto the track I was no longer thinking about the fingers I couldn’t feel. It had been about two hours since the last event had finished but I felt like I was standing on the track as the dust was settling on day one. Signs of that days’ destruction were everywhere: empty Gatorade bottles, stray spikes, rubber bands, tape marks. I got goosebumps, probably from the cold, but we’ll say it was from the haunting chill of Olympic dreams coming true.

Before all of that sentimental nonsense began, I was up at the crack of dawn getting ready for day one of competition. I rolled out of bed at 7:15am and already the house was stirring. Fenton and Alex were getting content ready to be pushed out, Ray was editing video, Liao was on the horn trying to find a place to stay that wasn’t our floor, and Selby was walking around the house asking us if he could do our laundry. What a hoot.

At 9am we rallied the troops and headed to the first Brooks morning run—which you should have been at—and got in a solid 70 minutes with some very cool cats. The run featured the ever fabled, Derek Rubis. If you’ve never met Derek, or don’t know who he is, you’re missing out. The dude is a character and his strange (albeit endearing) pictures-of-athletes-with-his-face thing has become stick to measure yourself by; if you’re a runner and you’ve been face-in-the-holed, you know you’ve made it. Other than Rubis, there was a guy there named Hunter who was a rep for a company called Swiftwicks, which are the greatest socks ever made. After the run he gave me five free pairs, which was awesome, because the older I get the more socks become the greatest gift a man could receive.

After the run I headed down to the track for the days competition. I’ve never really been a fan of the decathlon, mostly because I didn’t understand it, therefore I hated it. But after witnessing Ashton Eaton absolutely obliterate the field in nearly every event, breaking two World Records, and rendering a Hulk Hogan like scream after every event, I was hooked. He finished his day 70 points ahead of World Record pace. Hayward is a great place to be for any athlete, as the track savvy crowd responded to every one of Eaton’s performances with the proper vim and vigor.

The prelims all went as expected. I stomached ten rounds of 100m dash and finally got to the event that I’d been waiting for the entire night, the 10,000m. When the gun went off for the men’s 10k it was about 55 degrees and pouring rain. The people in the stands were fidgety, wet and ecstatic; it gave the atmosphere a proper buzz. In the end it was the hometown boy that stuck it to the field, and when Rupp made his move with 1200 to go, the crowd, as they did for Eaton, erupted. I felt that sense of camaraderie you see at other major sporting events. I wanted to chest bump my neighbors and kiss all the babies in the stands. The 10,000m forged a brotherhood between me and everyone else in Hayward.

The women’s 10,000m was equally exciting. Before the race Kevin Liao, Pat Price (of Writing about Running), and I made some dark horse predictions. No foolin’, I picked Natosha Rogers. That girl came to play, and when she made her tough-as-nails move around Flanagan and Hastings, I fell in love. I have no problem calling it the gutsiest performance of the day. It’s just a shame that she can beat two girls with an A standard and still have to sit at home come the London.

I’m now sitting in the mixed zone, the rain still coming down. All of the Flotrack guys are plugged in uploading everything from the day. In the back there’s a spectacularly terrible 80s cover band playing, and I have the general feeling that my hearts going to explode from too much caffeine. So for now it’s time for me to wrap things up and let the first day of Olympic Trials digest. I think by the time the trials are over I’m going to join the rove of homeless people around Eugene and chase that high that emanates from this arena.