The nature of all the U.S. Olympic sports is that of a somewhat ominous 4-year cycle. Runners, swimmers, gymnasts, etc., toil in virtual anonymity for the bulk of those 4 years, training for that one day, that one chance to fulfill a dream and qualify for the United States Olympic Team, the greatest such team in the world.

As a distance runner, a marathoner, I cannot speak on the trials and tribulations involved in swimming or gymnastics. In fact, even the thought of being in a pool at 6 in the morning makes me cringe; just watching those guys on the pommel horse makes my arms and legs ache. I can, however, speak to what exactly it's like to run for 4 years, almost always twice a day, with a singular goal in mind. Always picturing that one day, that one moment that will define all that hard work, give it meaning, quantify it with a time, a place and your own name forever etched in the annals of American distance running.

Nov. 3 was that very day for 134 runners who gathered at Rockefeller Center for the start of the U.S. Olympic Trials-Men's Marathon. In the world of distance running the race had been as hyped as any American marathon ever. With the course traversing New York City's famed Central Park, with a star-studded field that was arguably the best in the history of the event and with a built-in crowd of 40,000 slated to run their own race the very next day in the ING New York City Marathon, this Trials promised to be one of the greatest American races of all time.

For each of us fortunate enough to be standing on that starting line, with the cameras flashing in the still-dark morning, this was it. This was what we had dreamt about on the 20th mile of our long runs. This is what was so important to us, but what so many did not understand. This is what many of us had moved across the country to train for; it was what some viewed as their ultimate goal in life, and it was what one had put off Dental School for 4 years ago in a singular effort to be the first Olympian from his small Pennsylvania town. Standing there, none of us knew how this story would end and not one of us could have ever predicted the sadness that would ultimately hang over this day. But as the gun went off each one of us was about to live the dream and do it on the grandest of stages.

For me, my dream was being realized for the second time as I had also run the Trials in 2004 in Birmingham, AL, where I finished 37th. To properly prepare for this race I had spent 3 weeks in Flagstaff, AZ with my coach Greg McMillan and our group called McMillan Elite. I came back to St. Louis fitter than when I had left and with the hope that I would be able to re-capture my old ways and run a great marathon on Nov. 3. As I left for New York City that Thursday morning, I did so with the confidence that if nothing else, I was feeling fresh as opposed to the over-trained feeling that had hampered me the last few times out.

What follows are my journal entries as they were written in real time over the 2 days leading up to the Trials and then, of course, my thoughts after the race.

Thursday 6:10 a.m.: Well, so much for a good night's sleep. I set the alarm for 7:15 but once I'm up, I'm up. I waited around for awhile and got my half-hour run in at 7:30.

10:20 a.m.: I'm on the plane. New York City awaits. I'm sitting next to a cute girl which is a bonus but across from two little kids which could be a disaster. We'll see.

1:30 p.m.: I just got off the plane. The cute girl turned out to be a Wash U student, so I was able to practice my intellectual skills. The kids were quiet, but their formula did leak through the overhead compartment and onto the woman behind me.

3:30 p.m.: After a ridiculously long cab ride that cost me about 40 bucks I finally got to run. Brian, Mike and I ran the loop at Central Park that I'll have to run 5 times on Saturday. I feel like it's definitely as tough as everyone said, and then some.

6:30 p.m.: I'm back from a solo dinner at the Olive Garden in Times Square. Can you believe they have an OG in Times Square? The prices are more expensive though so I stuck with spaghetti and meatballs although the waiter did talk me into a glass of wine.

10:00 p.m.: Time for bed. I've spent the last couple hours reading a Jimi Hendrix biography. We think running 100 miles a week is tough but playing 50 shows in 50 days and doing lots of drugs sounds pretty tough, too.

Friday 8:00 a.m.: I got up around 7 and went to Starbucks for juice and a bagel. I think we'll go for a run here soon.

9:00 a.m.: Run went okay. I felt okay but nothing special. Ran from hotel to Central Park, did some of the loop and came back.

2:30 p.m.: Just got back from the technical meeting. It took 2 hours and we covered everything you could ever imagine. It made me a little nervous.

9:30 p.m.: Getting ready for bed. Had kind of a hectic night because we had to go over to the other hotel to drop off our bottles which took a while and then we just decided to eat over there before finally getting back here an hour ago. Tomorrow is the big day!

Saturday 4:45 a.m.: I woke up around 4 and went outside for a 10-minute shakeout run. It was amazing to see so many people just walking around at that time. Felt pretty good. All systems go.

6:30 a.m.: We are leaving for the start. My final predictions for the top three are Hall, Sell and Abdi.

11:30 a.m.: I'm back from the race, but I am saddened by the news that Ryan Shay has died. Apparently he collapsed about 5 miles into the race and was never revived. They are saying it was a heart attack. I had seen someone down but at the time I couldn't recognize him. At this point I find it difficult to write down anything else as nothing else seems too important.

Sunday 7:00 p.m.: I am on my flight home after one of the most amazing weekends of my life. While Ryan Shay's passing certainly put a strange damper on the race, and deservedly so, there is still much to celebrate and much to be excited about from all of the positive things that went on yesterday. Quickly I will say that my race did not go well. By mile 10 I could tell that this was not going to be my day. As I began to fall back from the pack my thoughts got negative and my legs got heavy. At mile 21 I stopped and began walking back toward the start on my way to dropping out, but my friend and former teammate, Marty Rosendahl, urged me to continue and run with him. I agreed, and ran with him for the next 4 miles, before briefly stopping to stretch my calf and then running the last mile by myself. I want to thank Marty for being a good friend. He was running only to finish as he was coming off an injury but he took the time to make sure that I finished as well because he knew I would regret it otherwise. He was right.

While my race went poorly in the back of the pack what happened in the front of the race was nothing short of amazing. Ryan Hall, at just 25 years old and in only his second marathon, put together one of the greatest races ever run by an American marathoner. He broke the race wide open at mile 17, running a jaw-dropping 4:32 split. He continued to dominate from there on in, running several miles in the 4:40 range on the difficult Central Park course. His final time of 2:09:02 is amazing in its own right but then consider that his first 5 miles were run in a pedestrian 26:20 and his accomplishment becomes monumental. Do the math and you will realize he ran his last 20 miles were run at sub-2:07 marathon pace, a pace I feel less than 5 people in the world could hold on that course. His chances for a Gold Medal in Beijing seem quite good.

Next to cross the line was another young star, Dathan Ritzenhein. I was happy to see "Ritz" make the team as I think he has been scrutinized to an unfair degree by the Internet pundits who expect too much from him every time out. His 2:11 on this course and on this day is certainly a sub-2:10 effort on a flat, fast course and he need not justify himself to anyone.

I cannot put my pen away without congratulating my friend and former teammate Brian Sell for making the Olympic team with his third-place performance. It was Brian who had put off dental school in search of his dream. For 2 years I was fortunate enough to run with him every day as a member of the Hansons Brooks Distance Project in Rochester Hills, MI. For those of us who know him and saw him train we knew that he would make this team. What we knew was that no one who stood on that starting line had trained harder than he had over the last 4 years. We knew that he would have a big day on Nov. 3 because that's what he does. Seeing all of his family and friends at the Brooks after-party and swapping stories turned out to be my favorite moment of the weekend.

It made me realize that those years of anonymity were worth it. The miles and miles of gut-wrenching tempo runs in the cold winters and the hot summers were worth it. They were worth it because "that day" is truly as great as we imagined it 4 years ago and I hope that this race can be an inspiration to all runners at all levels. It was to me.

Rest in peace, Ryan Shay.