Becoming healthier and more fit was not the only reason I became a runner. Yes, having a strong immune system, a lean physique, and higher energy levels are a nice bi-product, but there are deeper reasons why I derive pleasure from running long distances. Before I go into one of those reasons, allow me to share a family story to create the proper segue.
My parents were both born and raised in Michigan. My mom grew up in a historically Irish-American Detroit neighborhood known as Corktown, whereas my dad hails originally from Detroit, but beginning at age fourteen, grew up in West Bloomfield, a suburb known for it's Jewish culture. Over the years, my dad's side of the family made their way to various places across the United States. While my mom's family remained in Michigan, my aunts and one uncle on my dad's side followed my grandma out to Southern California when she moved there after the death of my grandpa. Once my aunts settled in California, they eventually married and started their own families. Having cousins across the country felt like a double edged sword. I hardly got to spend any time with them when I was growing up, but traveling to California every few years to visit was great fun, and ultimately planted one of the seeds that would eventually grow into the "Liam's California Dream" plant. Lots of different personalities run on my dad's side of the family, especially among the kids, but there was one cousin who always stood out to me; my cousin, Doug. Born on the same day as me in 1981, he grew up in Ventura County, just north of Los Angeles. He and his older brother were the only two children my aunt ever had, and they were both with her first husband, whom she divorced when Doug was young. He spent the majority of his life growing up with my aunt's current husband as his stepdad and although he had a pretty good upbringing, he was always looking for a shot at rebellion. He developed a strong friendship with two other guys in his school who shared the same sentiment and in 1995, the three boys who were barely teenagers at the time, discovered the perfect outlet for their pent up aggression; they were going to form a metal band. Inspired by Black Sabbath, the Sex Pistols, Pantera, and many other bands, the trio went to work with Jeff having the role as the vocalist and guitarist, Raymond playing drums, and Doug taking up bass guitar playing duties. The three spent their early days playing cover songs in their school's gymnasium for their classmates. They later recruited a second guitar player, and played at parties, public parks, and even had a couple of club gigs here and there. Not bad for a seventeen year old kid from Southern California. We also have to remember that this was in the late 1990's. There was no Facebook, Instagram, or Youtube back then. In those days, you actually had to play gigs, put up flyers around the neighborhood, and give away homemade tapes and CDs for free at your gigs. That was how you got people to notice you, listen to your material, spread the word, and hopefully come to the next show. The guys had chosen the band name "Black Opal", a name that matched perfectly to their image, music style, and their "we don't give a shit what you think" attitude. Their image involved black and white photography, black crosses, and the band members often performing in various band T-shirts, such as the Misfits and Megadeth. During this era, rap metal and alternative metal were becoming quite popular in the mainstream, and although their music was more thrash influenced, Black Opal began to make some big noise on the local circuit, at least in Southern California. By the time Doug graduated from high school in June of 1999, the band was still going strong. Then one day, a week after graduation, he was out driving with some friends. The details still remain unclear to me, but Doug's friend somehow lost control of the car, drove onto the median, and collided head on into a large tree. His friends suffered injuries, but tragically, Doug was killed. This is one of the biggest blows my family has ever endured, even to this day. The guy was barely eighteen years old. He had just graduated high school. He had done so much in his eighteen years on this planet, and poof, just like that, everything was gone. Understandably, it took quite a bit of time for my aunt and the rest of my family to recover from this tragedy. As someone who lost his mom at a young age, I can say from personal experience that these types of situations can never be fully accepted. There are always unanswered questions. Although those feelings never go away, you learn to cope with it, and things get easier over time.
Although we didn't spend much time together growing up, Doug and I were a lot alike. We both had a rebellious side. During my childhood I was lucky enough to have parents who had rules and standards, but simultaneously encouraged me to express myself. I was a different kind of kid. I didn't want to play football or basketball or listen to boring music. I wanted to ride my bike, do snow sports, and play tennis. My musical taste varied widely, but I loved rebellious, loud music like Limp Bizkit, Korn, and the Offspring. It was my outlet for aggression. Some of the other kids in school didn't understand, and I was often mocked for listening to "angry" music. Even though he was so far away, Doug's status as a bass player in a metal band made me realize there's nothing wrong with music with some edge and attitude to it. It was his outlet for aggression just like mine. Years later, after I became a runner, I realized that part of the reason why I got into the sport was because it provided the same outlet for aggression as music did for me many years earlier. Both of them together have worked wonders for me. Running ultras is such an extreme act that most people can't wrap their heads around. It's like a counterculture. It's certainly something that narrow minded people would look at, and simply dismiss it as ridiculous and wonder why in the world people would want to do it, even if they could. When I run ultras, a part of me feels like I'm flipping that world the middle finger. It feels rebellious and powerful. To me, edgy music is one of the most misunderstood things in the world, and in some ways, I feel like ultrarunning is also. Doug and I definitely come from the same family. It must be a Dumenjich thing. We have a rebellious side that we're just looking for a shot at showing everyone in a healthy way, and I feel fortunate that Doug and I have both seemed to find our way.
RIP Doug, I miss you man. Hope all is well on the other side!
