The Year of 2024

2024 FLASH shortlist photo: ‘A Vault Into Sunset’s Embrace’ of Sam Kendricks at the Beale Street Vault in Memphis, Tennessee taken by Nicky Atkins

From the TRACKLND C-suite

Written by the Chief Intern

In December of what is now last year, Portland Track held its now annual photography competition and showcase, FLASH. The event recognizes the best photos of the year in Track and Field as judged by FLASH’s esteemed judge’s panel. The top photos are announced, and photographers awarded at a formal gathering in Portland. To my knowledge, it is the only event of its kind in the sport, rewarding top photographers with cash prizes and a 50% cut of their photo print from the evening’s auction of all 30 photos on the short list. It’s an event near and dear to my heart because it reflects the values of Portland Track and TRACKLND, two organizations of which I’m proud to be a part. The event recognizes often unsung stakeholders whose work shares the emotional impact and thrilling moments of the sport we all love with us in ways that we can relive over and over. Speed and motion captured in still. Epic and quiet moments captured in time.

Photographers flew and drove into Portland for the event on their own dime. As I was talking with one of the photographers in our fancy clothes with drinks and cocktail napkins in our hands, he said something to me that apart from nearly bringing me to my knees, hit home. Last summer, the TRACKLND team went down to Memphis to broadcast the Ed Murphey Classic for Peacock. While we were down there, I looked through the credentialed photographer list and picked a photographer whose work I admired, reached out and asked if we could pay him for some photos from the meet to be used in an article (it will be posted soon…). It happened to be him. As we talked about the experience of working a meet in 110-degree humidity he said: “It’s really hard to keep doing this, but whenever I think of giving it up, I remind myself, I worked with Tracklandia”. It is difficult for me to write this because I do not want to sound self-aggrandizing. Heck, it’s difficult to decipher what something like TRACKLND / Tracklandia is to people from the outside. The point of me typing this is to say that’s a feeling common amongst people doing difficult things that they care about, and that any validation of the work being done, no matter how small can fuel an enormous amount of effort for months.

As we move into 2024, people are making their New Year’s Resolutions. Without giving much thought to the potential of others, in my mind there are two types of resolutions. The first is a commitment to do something new- to sky dive, or not eat as many mint Oreos, or to learn to drive stick-shift. The other is to recommit to things that dog you, that you’ve struggled with and have to relearn. The recommitment goals tend to be mindset oriented. They aren’t just something you can check off a list and move on from. They require practice and dedication. They typically are not the cracks in the surface that you can putty up but are the roots that cause the cracks. Procrastination, hesitation, fear, anger. These things likely aren’t separate issues and are probably knotted up, influencing each other in some kind of tangle together, ultimately influencing your approach and actions. Perhaps sky diving is a way to help you get up the guts to conquer other issues- even the two separate kinds of resolutions are not totally separate, I suppose.

When I first made a commitment to putting creative material out into the world, it was the scariest thing possible. It felt like my entire self-worth hinged on every little thing I created. It was exhausting. I remember thinking to myself after every Tracklandia show or written piece or video short: “who would pay for this?” That was a benchmark for success in my mind.

When I began speaking in front of crowds, I had debilitating stage fright. I wouldn’t sleep the night before and would spend all day trying to get my mind in what I perceived was the perfect place to deliver something unique and great. I was much better relaxed and when I ‘underprepared’ but the thought of being that scared me to death, so I had to script everything down to the word. I remember a single encouraging comment during these days would sustain me for months and a negative one would nearly break me. Hearing something from someone meant that the material was being received, and hearing something from someone whose work I admired meant that the vision inside our heads was finding its way to the outside to the right kinds of people. I often talk about the desire to create is closely linked with the desire to share. Sharing something with someone is not about the substance you are sharing; it is about using that substance to try and make someone feel what you feel. It’s a gift. In this regard, negativity is difficult to deal with, because it is a rejection of the gift. Hearing something nice is an acknowledgement that the gift was well received. Getting to work with the people whose work I admire is the ultimate gift.

Getting up in front of a crowd was simultaneously the scariest and most thrilling thing that I could possibly do. The best part about the early Tracklandia shows was the excitement about what we had come up with and what people might think about it. There was a “wait ‘til they see this!” energy going into every show, “this one will be the one that really hits!” As it happened, things were enjoyed, but nothing hit in the transformative, overnight success, everybody talking about it way that we dreamed it would.

It was then that I started to realize that I loved doing the thing more than I craved notoriety or a response to it. Success in the form of fortune and fame may never come, but because I loved the process of simply trying to get better at what I was doing and I had an idea of what I wanted things to eventually be, however hazy and amorphous the picture was in my mind, success became simply getting another crack at it. Just getting another opportunity to shave off the edges and refine the product into something closer to what I believed it could be. The more opportunities I/we get and the more I/we take them, the clearer the picture becomes.

People have an idea that the greats are all perfectionists. If someone is good at something, they must be a perfectionist. I’m sure there are different ideas of perfectionism, but the kind of perfectionist you don’t want to be is the one that lets their fear of failing to achieve their vision keep them from ever trying to create. The people I admire most and try to emulate are the ones who look at a challenge and try to figure out how to conquer it by first going for good enough. They’re present in the moment of the task and not spread thin by the thought of a less than ideal finished product or what others might think of it. Chances are, you will not get to great right away, but scrapping things together through chewing gum and toothpicks at the beginning gives you the knowledge and positioning to try again and get the arrow closer to the bullseye the next time.

Track is a funny sport because athletes can be defined by a single mark. It might not come as a surprise that I also struggled with racing as an athlete and dreamt that if I could put it together one time to achieve an amazing mark, I could choose to walk away if I wanted to and forever be defined by that single few minutes. I like to think that the best athletes don’t think this way and crave the competition. The ones I love watching the most are the athletes whose joy of being in the arena is unmistakable, and they just love to get out there and play the game.

All of this is to say that I still struggle with these things, but not nearly as much as I did in the past, and the reason is that I am doing them, no matter the level. My enjoyment of what I am doing outweighs the fear, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t an ongoing process. The work alleviates the fear and doubt. The more you do, the bigger your body of work and the less one thing defines you. The more you do the work, the less you care about how you are defined and the more you care about bettering the work. Taking leaps becomes more normal the more you jump.

I still don’t do this enough, and that is why I’m recommitting to work and consistency in 2024, and if any of this hits home with you, I hope you will too. I want you to know that I’m in your corner pulling for you, and if you’re committed to doing the work, I believe in you, start. I love to see people doing unique and creative things and I love to celebrate with them when they do those things.

So, on that note, here are a few other things that I want to recommit to in 2024:

• Spend quality time with the people I love, especially my wife and my 7-month-old daughter.
• Read more long form articles and books instead of tweets and clickbait posts (the longer, more thoughtful stuff feels like vegetables for the mind while the social media stuff feels like junk food).
• Don’t be afraid to go dark for a while to work on something longer. A focus on clicks and working the algorithm is the enemy of great (but make sure you are working with a purpose and a deadline).
• Be present and engaged with the person who is right in front of me.
• Do not respond (or look back) in anger.
• Be a storyteller, not a preacher.
• Make sure to let people know that I like what they’re doing in a way that lets them know what specifically I liked about it.
• Write every day. Schedule time to do so and stick to it.
• Don’t let good be the enemy of great. Finish what I start.
• Provide opportunities for others to create.

Happy New Year everyone, I hope to share some great moments with you all in 2024!

-Jeff
TRACKLND Chief Intern

Photos of Sam Kendricks, Bridget Williams, Vince Ciattei, Festus Lagat, Dani Jones and Chanice Porter from the 2023 Ed Murphey Classic taken by Nicky Atkins