Growing up in rural Mason City, Iowa, Adam Dalton observed only one version of men: strong, masculine types who were good at sports, like his father, a former all-state offensive tackle football player.
From the day Dalton enrolled in Newman Catholic High School, his parents told him to either join a sports team or get a job to fill his free time. After debating his options, Dalton decided on cross country.
“I was lanky and short,” Dalton, who’s now 25, told Runner’s World. “I would have gotten murdered on the football field.”
Running, meanwhile, was a way for him to prove he was just as athletic as the rest of the guys in his class. That aspect of the sport was especially enticing, given that Dalton knew he was gay at the time, but wasn’t ready to come out to his peers.
“I figured that if I was good at a sport, I’d prove to people that I’m still a man, even if I’m gay,” he said. “Running was validating in that way.”
Today, Dalton has come a long way from the small, gangly kid toeing the line of his first high school race. The 6-foot-2 runner is now an Olympic Marathon Trials qualifier, an honor he earned by running 2:18:52 at Grandma’s Marathon last June. While he’s stronger and fitter than ever now, his running journey over the past decade was by no means easy.
Filling a Void With Running
Dalton wasn’t a star right off the bat—as a high school freshman, he ran his first 5K in 22:46—but he quickly improved once he discovered a training plan that worked for him. “My dad and I researched running websites like Runner’s World and pulled together our own training plan,” he said.
He soon outgrew the talent of his small, 10-person team, finishing 5K races sometimes more than three minutes ahead his teammates. By the time he was a high school senior in 2012, he’d clocked decent times of 10:13.57 for 3200 meters and 4:45.60 for 1600, and had achieved all-state honors in cross country and outdoor track.
No matter how many accolades he received, however, Dalton was rarely satisfied with his performances.
“It didn’t matter how well I did. I was always unhappy,” he said. “Since I couldn’t fully be myself, I was angsty and struggling whenever I wasn’t running. Running was the best and worst thing in my life, since I had an unhealthy relationship with it. It was a necessity for me to maintain any self-esteem.”
Dalton enrolled in Grinnell College, an elite liberal arts school in Iowa with an LGBTQ-friendly campus, in fall 2012. He walked onto the cross-country and track teams there, and within the first semester of his freshman year, he came out to his teammates, several of whom already identified as gay. They welcomed Dalton with open arms.
“After that, my relationship with running became more organic and healthy,” he said. “It wasn’t something I needed to base my self-worth on anymore.”
Being comfortable in his own skin made a huge impact on Dalton’s performance. As a senior, he won the Midwest Conference championship titles in the indoor 3,000 meters, indoor and outdoor 5,000, as well as the 10,000 outdoors. In the process, the runner nailed personal bests of 15:01.42 for 5,000 meters and 31:39.75 for 10,000.
Unfortunately, poorly-timed injuries and illnesses often ended his seasons early, like the bout with mono that kept him out of cross-country regionals his sophomore year, or a pinched sciatic nerve that benched him for three months of his senior year. He rebounded just in time for regionals, but missed qualifying for nationals.
“It’s funny, the position I’m in now as a Trials qualifier, because I never raced at DIII Nationals,” he said. “I definitely didn’t expect to be here.”
The Unexpected Trials Qualifier
After graduating from Grinnell in 2016 with degrees in economics and Chinese—plus a load of miles on his legs—Dalton moved to Salt Lake City, Utah, to pursue a master’s in city planning at the University of Utah. For about six months, he cut his previous college mileage considerably, running just 30 easy miles per week. While it wasn’t a full break, it was exactly what he needed to rejuvenate his beat-up body.
“I’m not a super competitive person, so I didn’t mind taking a break from racing,” he said. “But I did miss having a running community.”
Around October 2017, he began doing workouts and strength training circuits with a local distance group in Salt Lake City. Though the group was preparing for 26.2-mile races, Dalton still wasn’t sure if he wanted to be a marathoner.
“I just wanted to see how the training went,” he said. “I figured I could be good at the marathon, since I’m used to high mileage and I can run all day at a pretty fast pace.”
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Encouraged by his training partners, Dalton registered for Grandma’s Marathon in June 2018. He upped his mileage that spring to between 90 and 107 miles per week, taking a rest day CA Notice at Collection easy day on the higher ones. To balance training with his classwork, he would run early in the morning, then double around 5 p.m., along with strength training. His bread-and-butter workout was his weekly long run, which usually involved some speedwork to get him used to turning over on tired legs. “I’d make it a fartlek, or do the second half at tempo pace,” he said.
Despite his solid training, the idea of running a Trials-qualifying time in his debut marathon was still a pipe dream. When he arrived at the race in Duluth, Minnesota, Dalton had a half marathon personal best of 1:11. He figured that if he had a great day, he might be able to double that time and run 2:22 for 26.2 miles. “My goal was to run my PR pace for the first half, then try not to slow down in the second half,” he said.
But as all runners know, the best laid race plans are subject to change. When the gun went off at Grandma’s, Dalton—who wasn’t wearing a watch—surged ahead by feel, unknowingly ticking off miles faster than he thought. It was a foggy morning, and the lack of visibility made the race feel surreal for Dalton. “I was running alone in this thick fog, and I had know idea what was going on,” he said. “It felt like a dream.”
Dalton was shocked when he crossed the half marathon mark in 1:08, three minutes faster than his previous best. “At that point, I knew the race would go one of two ways: I would have the race of my career, or I’d blow up aggressively,” he said.
Surprising himself, he held the pace, passing men who boasted impressive marathon splits on the start line. Then around mile 18, the race took a punch to his gut, and he peeled off for a porta-potty break. Luckily, he rebounded quickly. At mile 25, he saw the time on the clock—2:12:18—and knew he was in the ballpark to run sub-2:19.
“The last mile was agonizing, because the course kept winding. Every corner I turned, I thought I was at the finish,” he said. “Then I saw a clock reading 2:18:10, and the finish line wasn’t too far off. I kicked like crazy.”
Dalton still wasn’t sure if he wanted to be a marathoner 2:18:52, We may earn commission from links on this page, but we only recommend products we back 157 CA Notice at Collection. His second half split was 1:10, meaning he ran back-to-back 13.1-mile personal bests. In the finish chute, he whooped and spiked two water bottles football-touchdown style, drawing enough attention that the race volunteers reprimanded him for being too rowdy. Once he explained that he’d just qualified for Trials, they let him off with a smile.
“I was overcome with emotion,” he said. “I had gone this pace for 10 or 11 miles in practice, but never expected to be able to do the whole race at it.”
Bright Outlook On Trials
Three weeks after qualifying last summer, Dalton moved to Tucson, Arizona, to start work at the International Dark-Sky Association, an environmental nonprofit that aims to stop light pollution and protect the night skies. Since then, he’s focused on building a solid base for the upcoming year leading to the It’s Okay to Not Run Marathons.
Since Arizona is a “literal oven,” the runner said he often logs his miles after dark to avoid the sun. A typical evening for Dalton goes like this: finish work around 5 p.m., hit the gym to lift and stretch, make dinner, watch Netflix, and then leave to run around 9 or 10. When he’s not training, he performs as the lead vocalist and guitarist for his surf punk band, Bikini Shark.
Looking ahead to Trials, Dalton’s not putting too much pressure on himself—he’s just excited to be there. He wants to meet Galen Rupp in person, and maybe grab a beer with Noah Droddy after the race.
“I know I’m going to be seeded as one of the slowest guys there,” he said. “But I have this mantra: ‘I might not be the fastest, but I’ll be the best looking.’ I’m going to show up to the line looking super-fresh, hopefully wearing something hella bright. You won’t miss me.”
