Today we’d like to introduce you to Damien Lovria.
Damien, we appreciate you taking the time to share your story with us today. Where does your story begin?
I appreciate you taking the time and giving me the chance to tell my story. This has been something I’ve wanted to do for a while now. This is going to be an emotional roller coaster. But please just hang on, because I promise you it’ll be worth it in the end.
We all hear it as kids. The same question repeated like a broken record. “What do you want to be when you grow up?” Most of us don’t know, or we think we know, so we give an answer and move on not really thinking about that because… Well. We’re kids. We have more important things to do. Like, hanging out with our friends. Or play video games. Or write up our Christmas lists. Years go by… Then, we get a bit older, and that question holds a little more weight now. We get into high school and are asked again, but now we’re expected to give a more serious answer because, hey, time’s a waste! Some of us by now may have a general idea, some of us may think we know, a few of us do know, and for a handful of us, our parents helped make up our minds for us. But what about those of us who still haven’t a clue of what it is that they want to be? What about those who didn’t have much guidance or support?
Those of us who didn’t have helicopter parents. Or even parents at all. Now consider this… What if no one ever asked you what it was that you wanted to be, and just let you be free to decide on your own? No pressure. Not even guidance. Pure freedom.
See, freedom is a funny thing. Because on one hand, it’s nice to be given the freedom to choose what it is that we want to do. But when you have so many ideas in your head and suffer from the inability to make a decision because you’re always stuck inside of that same head, constantly paralyzed with the thought of so many choices to make while the time keeps ticking and responsibilities keep adding up. You quickly get left behind.
That was me. A young child with ADHD was raised in a home with little guidance and support because my own parents were too caught up in their own issues to realize that their son was doomed to suffer as a result of their ignorant negligence. I’ll spare you the long details because truth be told we’d need several more interviews and maybe even a psychiatrist to get through that mess. Just know that I, like many others out there who need a voice, did not grow up in a wonderful home. Between drug addiction, alcoholism, narcissism, and even murder. I was destined to fail at life.
I had no idea what the hell it was that I was going to do when I got older. Because I wasn’t focused on the future. I was focused on survival. Making it from one day to the next. While some kids were playing cops and robbers, handcuffing each other to poles. I had to watch my father be taken away from me in real handcuffs. And while some kids were playing wrestling with each other, I was wrestling a knife out of the hands of my mother who was crying her eyes out on the kitchen floor because she just wanted it all to end.
In 28 years of living, I’ve seen more things than most my age would. I’ve experienced things that perhaps I never should have had to. But the truth is, it was because of those things that I became so educated, resilient, and hellbent on showing life that I wasn’t going to let anything stand in my way of succeeding. Not any teacher picking on me in class because I spaced out again making me feel stupid. Not any person that I thought I could trust for the hundredth time stabbing me in the back. Not any workplace screwing me out of money that I worked myself into the ground for. Not any landlord evicting me and costing me everything I owned. Not one single thing.
Because in that moment of weakness on February 10th, 2022. I remembered back to all of the things I had been through growing up. The things that made me who I was at that moment. I remembered all of the struggles and times I had to do what was necessary to survive. Like having to steal from a grocery store with my mom just to eat dinner. Then I recalled all the times that I saw the sadness in a random person’s eyes, and did what I could to brighten their day like giving them a compliment. The times when I saw a passing ambulance and said to my grandmother, “I hope the person is okay.” Or how I was always compelled to stop for a homeless person to try and help them out however I could. Even when people told me I could get robbed, hurt, or even killed. I was always the first to jump in to help when chaos struck. I was the pillar of strength to my friends. I remembered our friend Shane, who had passed away at the age of 27 a year prior, and how my group of friends fell apart emotionally while I did my best to hold it together and pick up the pieces while constantly checking in on them or helping organize the fundraiser for his funeral expenses for the family.
I thought about what may come of this world, if I after all of this time, were to just give up on it. All of those people. My friends. Coworkers. What was left of my family? If I were to call it quits right then and there. What message would that send to them and the rest of the world? To those other people like me, who fight day in and day out to make the world a little nicer just by simply being who they are. Even though sometimes it’s hard to want to keep going.
Was this really it? Was I going to give up now? After all of this time? Or was I going to get up off of the floor of that empty house, and keep fighting? For me, and for everyone else around me.
My name is Damien Zachary Lovria, and I want to use my newfound passion to gain a platform so that I can help spread hope to those who struggle to see that it is worth it to keep going. I want to inspire the underdogs to achieve greatness, and bring more awareness to mental health issues and neurodivergence, but to put it simply. I want to change the world.
One step at a time. A year ago at the age of 28, I hit what some could only describe as “rock bottom.” From that point, I made a decision to take control of my life and my condition that which I had convinced myself I didn’t need help with for so long. What came of that decision is who you see before you now, and I’m here to tell the world that you CAN achieve greatness if you try hard enough.
Back when this all began for me, I set out on a journey of personal growth not realizing that in doing so I would find my passion in life. What started out as a run around the block to constructively get rid of negative thoughts and refocus my energy, turned into fifteen minutes on a treadmill a week later. Then I started to hold myself accountable. I faced my fear with medications and with the help of my amazing doctor, started treating my ADHD. I began to cut out certain things from my diet, invested in a smartwatch to track my activities, and eventually started incorporating other things into my routine. Months went by, and in that short time, I had already seen a huge difference. I was more disciplined. Things that once felt difficult began to come easier.
I felt better mentally, and physically I looked healthier. I still remember the first time I realized that I was changing. I was sitting there in the gym trying to remember the last time I felt super low, or anxious, and realized that it had been quite some time. It felt weird. Almost like it wasn’t supposed to be normal for me to feel this way. But at the same time, it felt great. It felt like for the first time in my life I was truly in control of myself and my life. And from that moment on, nothing was ever the same. Things that once seemed difficult became much easier. Not just with my gym sessions, but in my day-to-day life. I started to cut out people who were no good to me, started learning how to set boundaries, and most important. How to say no?
This once socially anxious person caught in a depressive slump as time went flying by was no more. I had my schedule. My routine that I stuck to, no matter what. I let no one get in the way of what I was doing because, for the first time in my life, I was doing what I wanted to do, not what others wanted me to do. I remember talking on the phone to my friend Ryan – who has been a huge supporter of me from the beginning by the way – that I swear no matter what it takes, I will be better than I was by the end of this year. I wanted to be able to look back on the previous year and be proud of myself, and I meant that.
That same week, I saw this billboard on my way to work one day for The Icebreaker Road Race in Great Falls, Montana where I was living at the time. At first, I didn’t give it much thought. But then there it was… Every day, that billboard was on my way to and from work. Finally, I got curious enough one day while doing a ride on the stationary bike to look into it. They had a one-mile walk/run, a three-mile race, and a five-mile race. The gears began turning in my head. I started to wonder if I could do something like this. The one mile seemed easy enough, considering I always did a one-mile run every Friday as fast as I could. But for some reason that day, I thought… Nah… I want something more challenging. So I looked into the three-mile race. Five miles seemed like a lot to me at the time, and one just seemed too little, so three was a happy medium and gave me something to prepare for. So I took a deep breath, paid the entry fee, and got straight to work. That was when my true training toward road racing began.
Shortly thereafter I invested in a camelback, some new clothes, and my first pair of running shoes. The Asics Gel Kayano 27s which I still have today, albeit smoothed out flat. Those things saved my legs from so much pain and suffering later on. I’ll never get rid of them. I use them now as my “daily drivers” and once they get to work for even that simple task, they’ll hang on my wall with all of my photos and medals as a reminder of where it all began. That first race.
The one that for weeks I’d prepare for. I pushed my legs to the limit daily. Back then it was always the same schedule. Monday through Thursday was elliptical for thirty minutes, bike for thirty minutes, then some minor upper and core strength work. Friday was a one-mile sprint as fast as possible, which I hated, and then Saturdays I’d run around Gibson Park for three miles at a decent pace. I was shooting for under nine minutes a mile at the time. I remember the day I came across the line. My friend Ryan was screaming and cheering me on as I sprinted up the final stretch of road in front of the same park I’d run around during my training. My chest was burning, and my legs were screaming at me, but on I ran. The announcer saw me coming up the way with my camelback and sunglasses and said “Now that’s how you do it.” Across the line, twenty-three minutes and fifty-three seconds. The feeling of accomplishment that washed over me at that moment was unbelievable. I grabbed that medal, downed some water, and ran over to Ryan who embraced me and said “You did it, man, I’m so proud of you!” To which I responded with. “So am I.”
A year later, I’ve run in seven road races. One, in particular, was a ten miler here in Minnesota around White Bear Lake back on November 6th, my twenty-eighth birthday. I came first place in my age group.
On the last weekend of February of this year, I completed my first-ever half-marathon in Las Vegas a couple of weeks past the date I first began running. Just over thirteen miles in an hour and forty-seven seconds. I can’t even describe to you what finishing that event felt like to me. And to make the experience even better, my friend Ryan was there to cheer me over the line. I will never forget that night for as long as I live.
To say that I’ve come a long way since my days back in Great Falls would be an understatement. I’ve come further than a lot of people in their first year of running would. It took me a while to finally feel okay saying that out loud, because for a good while people have been telling me that, but I refused to acknowledge it.
Look, I’m humble. I’m nowhere near the best. But I damn sure want to be. I know that I have a long way to go, and there are probably thousands if not tens of thousands or more out there better than me. But I also know that out of those thousands, I’m at least one of the ones who refuses to stop at “good enough.” I owe it to myself to see this through to the end, wherever that end may be. I want to be able to stand up there on a stage someday in front of people and tell them this story, and help them see why it’s so important that you never stop fighting.
Why do you never stop pushing yourself a lot today to be a little better tomorrow? I want to travel to events, meet new and interesting people, and hear their stories. Like you, I want to be a way for people with a story to tell, to tell it, and let the world hear it. I want to be successful so that I can help the world be successful too. Because despite what anyone may tell you, I believe that we all deserve to have a success story. And to all of you out there trying like hell every day and giving it your all.
I am proud of you, and you should be too.
Thank you for your time and patience, because I’m sure this was probably one of your longest interviews to go through and I barely touched on a fraction of what there is to say and the finer details of these experiences. There’s just too much to cover all in one go… Heck… Maybe someday I’ll write a book.
We all face challenges, but looking back would you describe it as a relatively smooth road?
A smooth road? I don’t believe that there is such a thing. As I’m sure you could tell just from my backstory alone, it’s always been a bumpy road. But I’ve learned how to adapt as we all do, and little by little that road is getting easier to travel on.
Besides my life in general, in running, I’ve had several injuries already, thankfully none too major to overcome with just rest alone. Two of my most notable would have to be my iliotibial band issue a month before my first 5K and my arch issues leading up to my first half-marathon that still persists even now.
With the IT band flare-up, it was a matter of beginner error. I pushed myself too far and too fast and paid the price. I kept trying fight something that I thought could be “walked off” or in my case ran through. It was in May, a month before the Governor’s Cup 5K in Helena, Montana. I had just gotten back from a not-so-fun trip. A memorial service for that same friend I mentioned prior, Shane Skinner. My friends and I, a year later, finally got together to pay our respects. It was one of those trips that carry mixed feelings. On one hand, it’s nice to see familiar faces, but the reason you’re there kicks you in the stomach the minute you walk through the door.
When we returned, I of course had a lot on my mind. So I did what most runners do, and ran through my feelings. I ran fast and hard. Faster than I ever had before. My steps were perfect, my breathing was synchronized. Eventually, something washed over me. The feeling was euphoric. It was one of those moments that some describe as a “runner’s high”. I felt so good that I ran for five straight miles without pause, and when I got done, I wasn’t even winded. I felt invincible. Until a day later when my knee stiffened up and almost cost me, my first official, 5K finish. There’s more there, but I’ll shorten it by saying I learned when to push and when to stop and I came across the line sprinting. I learned a lot from that experience.
But evidently, I haven’t learned enough, because for about two months now I’ve been battling some pretty nasty arch pain flare-ups that I can’t seem to figure out yet beyond resting when it happens. The month leading up to that race in Vegas was one of the most frustrating months I’ve had as a runner. Distances that once were a breeze became painful. Then I noticed that my arch was collapsing on one foot when I stood, prompting me to start researching into it like I was Doctor House. I must’ve tried fifteen different shoe stores and ten to twenty different shoes, several arch supports, and all types of braces.
I started taking daily ice baths, researched and incorporated new stretches and running form techniques into my routine, set up weekly chiropractor visits, and even bought myself one of those fancy massage guns. Short of some magic ritual, I’d say I tried it all… Finally, after some new shoes, and a lot of money down the drain I think I may have figured it out But from that, I learned how determined I was to make things happen, even if it drove me to the brink of insanity. The day after that half-marathon was no walk in the park, but it was a lot better than it used to be so I can only hope that I’ve started to figure it out.
Only time will tell.
Thanks for sharing that. So, maybe next you can tell us a bit more about your work?
Right now job-wise, or where I’m at in my professional life, I am not happy. Rather I’m feeling unfulfilled.
But that’s okay because I know it’s not where I want to be. So I’m fighting to change that. I will say though, that it’s difficult to do so in my situation when there aren’t many “jobs” out there for someone like me.
See, it’s hard for me to say exactly what it is that I do or who it is that I am because I’m so much more than just one singular thing that can define me. I run races and hope to be able to someday compete on a professional level or even make it to the Olympics. So maybe a coach will take interest in me? I listen to those who need to be heard and speak to those who need to hear. I try to encourage and motivate people to be the best they can be every day. In that regard, I hope to be able to tie my running races in with that and start motivational speaking sessions when I travel to these events and maybe even build a running team of my own for those who want to be a part of it. So maybe I myself will be a coach or a trainer of some sort? I also love writing, so like I said earlier, maybe I’ll even write a book. Or maybe two.
Maybe I’ll do it all together somehow, someday. As long as I can have a positive impact on this world and be a part of something greater.. I’ll be happy. All I can do is keep giving it my all, and hope that when the time is right, the opportunity will reveal itself to me.
Until that happens, maybe it’s best to say… I’m a human on a journey to self-improvement, who hopes to inspire with my words, while simultaneously teaching how to put those words into action. You can do anything that you want to do. But first, you have to get up and MOVE.
Can you talk to us about how you think about risk?
To me, without risk, there can be no reward. That’s not to say you shouldn’t err on the side of caution, however, because some risks aren’t worth taking if they could be detrimental to your personal progress. Several times in my life, and especially so now, I take risks. Moving from state to state like I have several times over, sometimes with as little as six hundred dollars to my name has been risky. I’ve had a few people tell me that doing what I did took a lot of courage, especially with having to start all over again. Some have even said that they would never have done what I did. But those risks led me to the point I’m at now, and every time I step into the gym or out onto the race course, I’m taking a huge risk.
One wrong move, one ankle twist, a slip, or a pain that I try to push through could mean months off of my feet, which would in turn set me back a great deal and possibly even permanently hinder my growth toward furthering my career in the sport itself. But at the same time, if I didn’t take those risks, I wouldn’t be here right now. I wouldn’t be fifty pounds lighter, I wouldn’t be faster, or stronger than I was last year or even last month, and I surely wouldn’t have just completed my first half-marathon in Las Vegas! So to me… Risk is just another part of life. We assess, weigh our options, prepare accordingly, and commit to a choice. What happens next is the result of our actions. From those results, we will learn and grow as an individual, and maybe even get the chance to educate others too.
Contact Info:
- Instagram: @damienrunsalot
- Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/damien.lovria.5
- Twitter: @damienrunsalot
- Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCn4ute6-WSlXv1VcBWZ0Jtg
- Other: https://www.facebook.com/damienrunsalot?mibextid=ZbWKwL
Image Credits
Ryan Marvel, Wesley Harton (All Nation’s Healthcare 5K), FinisherPix (Rock n Roll Vegas), Kowalski’s Strive 10 Miler, and Great Falls IceBreaker
