This is the third entry in a series from Jordan Mann, this year's surprise fifth-place finisher in the U.S. steeplechase and mixed zone media darling. This weekend, he chronicled his experience competing at the North American, Central American, and Caribbean Championships (NACAC) in Toronto, Canada. On Sunday, he finished third in a three-person field. 

If you missed his first post or second posts, you can find them here and here. 

A few months ago, I ate lunch with a young athlete from Brown who was wrestling with a lack of passion for the sport. Despite running sub-1:50 each year since he was a sophomore (he’d been a freshman when I was a senior, and he was a senior at the time of our conversation), part of his internal crisis stemmed from some hard times in training, and lack of faith in his own talent. To help him remedy these internal sores, I passed onto him the mantra that I use to console and reassure myself after a bad effort: 

You’re. Still. That. Dude.

Don’t get me wrong—I might be a pretty happy-go-lucky kind of guy even after a bad race, a dude who’s able to smile and joke around even after running his slowest time of the season in a race that had other people. But this one freaking stung.

I had high hopes for myself, and I publicized them on a platform most athletes at this level of track and field can’t take advantage of before embarrassing myself on the track; like all of us, I have self-doubt, and instead of posting another result to establish that, “Yeah, I do belong,” I posted a result that makes the next level of running feel as far away as ever. 

I thought that Andy Bayer couldn’t just run away from athletes like me and Travis (though if I hadn’t been so poor today, Travis probably could have caught him), that I was prepared to compete and not just happy to be here, that a bad result was all but impossible—for more than a moment each, I’ve questioned if any of those things were in the same universe as the truth.

But then I remember: 

I’m. That. Dude.

I’m that dude that debuted with an 8:48 solo steeplechase—the best debut of my career—and followed it up with four straight PRs of 8:35, 34, 33, and 28. I’m that dude that went sub-four for the first two times in his life (including one in front of my home fans in St. Louis), that posted a 7:52 in the 3K running the last thousand meters alone, and that closed in 1:55 to beat an NCAA champion and Olympian overseas. 

I’m that dude that’s had two bad races on the track all year, with a coach he knows can help him keep improving. And even though I didn’t run well today, I’m that dude that finished fifth at USAs to qualify for this dern meet gah dang. 

It’s not exactly the mark I wanted to leave at the end (for the steeplechase, anyway) of a breakout season, but this race doesn’t define my year either. I’ll leave that to the messages I’ve received from people around the country I’ve inspired and to the pride old teammates, coaches, friends, and family expressed in watching me chase accomplishments none of us thought were possible. 

I’ll leave that to standing outside Ray’s (Treacy) office trying not to walk in with a smile after I returned from Des Moines, and to him and Tim Brock bursting out in laughter at the stupid grin on my face the moment I walked in that door. 

I’ll leave that to the moments I’ve shared with B-Circuit Bros before, during and after races around the globe, to Black people love anime with Kemoy Campbell and Izaic Yorks, to #NACACyearletsgo after my race at USAs, to the classic if unhelpful post-race “I still love you” from my dad to Julian dropping me and Hugh on the last of a long set of Ks; to new experiences, new people, and to love. To the love I’ve felt from everyone for just being myself, and for the privilege I feel in sharing it all with them. 

So thank you. This one might have been rough, but I’ll be back. Remember,

I’m. Still. That. Dude.