I knew I wanted to write this letter when Assistant Professor of Psychology Nancy Frambes, ’87, mentioned it during the first day of positive psychology, and I knew exactly who I wanted to write it to. During the last couple of weeks of class, Frambes explained that this letter should express how a person has impacted your life and the gratitude that you feel for them, and that would be followed up with a gratitude visit. That meant reading the letter to whoever you were addressing it to, either in person or over the phone. However, I was unsure on how I would carry out this requirement, unless I visited the cemetery where Ben Mourer, ‘07, was buried, spoke to his wife or read the letter to another coach. I soon realized the best outlet for this letter would be The Campus. After a short conversation with Milo Watson, ‘26, and Anna Westbrook, ‘26, the possibility of publication became a reality.

There are a multitude of things that I am grateful for due to Mourer’s coaching and who he was as a person. One of those things is the fact that I am still running on the cross-country and track teams at Allegheny. I started my cross-country journey in seventh grade, and I genuinely thought I was going to stop running once I completed high school. During my senior year, running felt more like a chore than something that I was doing for fun, and that was not how I wanted to view my running. I thought taking a year away from running and trying to do it recreationally would help. However, my mind quickly changed when Mourer showed up at my senior Western Pennsylvania Interscholastic Athletic League race, and he came to talk to me, and probably a couple of other individuals he hoped would be interested in Allegheny’s team. It was honestly the worst race I had all season, but he still came to recruit me onto the team. That is something that I think about often, and if he had never visited me that day, I probably would not have been at Allegheny. I probably would not be running right now either.

Mourer was a very understanding and accepting person. He knew my deadname, since I was still going by that until I came to college, but as soon as I let him know I was going by Oliver, he made the switch without any hesitation. He was very open about me changing my name, so I knew that I could be open about my transition as well. That made it so much easier for me to have a conversation with him about me starting testosterone in the spring semester of my sophomore year. It was during the indoor track season, and I had gone through all my outlets and resources to make sure that I was not violating any NCAA guidelines by getting the gender-affirming care that I needed. Mourer was double-checking everything as well, and he was trying to keep me updated and vice versa. There was a point in time when we had to have a conversation about which team I would be on. If I stayed on the women’s team, then they would have to be considered a mixed gender team. That classification would prevent the team from being able to compete in the Presidents’ Athletic Conference championship and any further competitions. That was the dealbreaker for me. Mourer had the same thought process, so he asked me if I was ready to make the switch and be on the men’s team. I was nervous, but I knew what I wanted to do. He fully supported my choice, and he made the switch quickly after our conversation. He was very excited for me to start my medical transition, and his excitement is something that made me feel hopeful for my future on the team. He wanted to see what I could do, and so did I. At that moment, I was determined to see where my new limits would be after starting hormone replacement therapy.

His acceptance, understanding and patience are what make me grateful that I had him as my coach. He could have told me that I could not start HRT, or he could have said that I would have to wait to do so. But, no. It was a quick letter sent to the NCAA and a switch on the Track and Field Results Reporting System, and I was all good to go. Those moments are what make me want to continue to be myself today, and I am going to be unapologetic about it. I know if he were here now, he would be proud of me, and he would be cheering me on. Over the course of being on testosterone for about a year and two months, my easy runs have gone from being 8:30 pace to being 7:30 pace or under. I have gotten stronger while racing, and I am learning to take more risks. I just got a new 800-meter personal record (even if it took me until my junior year to get it). I could not have done that if he had not supported me throughout that beginning process.

Regarding how supportive he was, he would always try to schedule individual meetings with everyone on the team. During my meetings with him, he would always ask me how I was doing mentally because he was aware that I struggled with my mental health (and I still do). He took the time out of his busy schedule to talk to us, to talk to me. He wanted to know how everyone on the team was doing, and he would always ask me if there was anything he could do for me. If there was nothing he could do, he would just listen, and that was enough. He was very committed to the team and what we all stood for, and he wanted us to be dedicated. However, he also wanted us to be okay and feel okay, or as okay as we could be. He understood how mentally taxing life could be, so if we ever needed some time away, he would tell us to take it.

I miss Mourer, more than I express to myself and to my teammates. He made a huge impact on my life by just being himself, and that is something that is extremely special to be able to do. I wish he were still here, and I wish he could have seen all of us run on our home course during the PAC race this past fall. I wish he could have seen me run at regionals, even if I was in last place. I wish he could have seen me finally break the 2:30 wall in my 800. Even if he cannot be here physically, I know that he’s looking down at all of us, and I know that he’s proud of me. No matter what the future holds, he taught me how to stay on the grind and how to get through things when they get tough. If there is one thing to take away from all this, it should be to never settle.