Crossing the finish line in record time.
Brosnan’s memoir of building a formidable cross-country program in a Los Angeles suburb is richer and more relatable than many books by bigger names in other sports. He’s gratifyingly specific about the work behind his achievements and happy to play the bad guy in instructive anecdotes, admitting that he’s lied to teenage athletes in the name of victory. Brosnan traces his coaching success to his own deficits. He was a decent schoolboy runner but stubborn—“a bad athlete to coach.” In his 20s and 30s, he moved frequently, worked in sales, and hung around Nike’s Oregon track, gleaning know-how from top coaches. In 2016, he started coaching at Newbury Park High School in Southern California, transforming a middling team into a national champion. His account of how he did so gives the reader a sense of why he’s a divisive figure in his field, a two-time national coach of the year who has been accused of cutting ethical corners. While other “coaches are too scared to go hard with training,” Brosnan expects “a no-limits mindset” from his runners. He and the team made a 140-mile trip to a mountain for a month of high-altitude training. Unconventionally, his runners do “speed work” all year, running 800 meters at breakneck pace, pausing briefly, then doing it several more times. Once, he “built a workout around a lie,” misleading his runners about the distance they covered in hopes of making them even faster. As his runners set numerous records, “faceless online avatars” accused them of using performance-enhancing drugs, but Brosnan says that’s nonsense: “I categorically condemn doping.” Several of his runners emerge as solid supporting characters, rounding out this invigorating book.
In satisfying, granular detail, a coach describes how he developed his dominant team.