How a philosophy major from Harvard became the best college distance runner in the country

On Nov. 20, Blanks became the first Ivy League runner and first Massachusetts collegiate runner to win the NCAA men’s cross-country national championship, in Charlottesville, Va. The 10-kilometer triumph in 28 minutes, 37.7 seconds marked the climax of a remarkable fall season in which Blanks won all five races he entered. Then, on Saturday at Boston University, he took a bow after setting an NCAA record with a stunning 13:03.78 for 5K.

“It doesn’t feel real in a way,” Blanks said. “Winning NCAAs — these are the races we watched in high school, and so it’s weird to have me winning those now.”

How does a Harvard junior become a national champion? As Blanks and distance coach Alex Gibby explained, the victory underscored their journey turning a uniquely gifted thinker into a uniquely successful runner.

“He’s so good with the mental game that I’m not doing a lot of talking,” Gibby said. “I’m not doing a lot of structuring or restructuring. I’m doing a lot of check-ins to make sure he’s hitting the philosophical points that I want him to hit, and then hearing his version of them, and then letting him apply it. I think that speaks to how good his head-game is.”

Blanks grew up in Athens, Ga. His mother, Mary Catherine Smith, helped give him the running bug through local road races, but the family doesn’t have a cross-country background. Blanks chose Harvard primarily for the academics, and admittedly didn’t put a lot of stock into the program fit. Though Blanks was an accomplished runner at Athens Academy, Gibby called him “good in high school, but not great.”

But Blanks’s emotional intelligence set him apart in a sport that can torture athletes mentally. To Gibby, Blanks’s growth was about adding physical and tactical strength to his mind.

“He was so far along the curve as an early competitor that you’re just shaping the physical piece, you’re shaping the strategy piece, and you’re watching him grow,” Gibby said.

Blanks averages 90-95 miles per week over a full season, even with a day off, at a pace ranging from 5:50-6:15 per mile. Sundays are for 20-mile runs. Gibby grounds his runners in “substantive aerobic development,” which can involve work on a bike or elliptical machine, or in the pool.

“There’s no special secret to our training; it’s just that we work really damn hard,” Blanks said. “It pays off in the long run, no pun intended.”

Gibby embraces the science of training. His runners check their blood four times per year to measure protein and red blood cell levels. Harvard’s sports medicine team helps with nutrition. Gibby firmly believes no foods are bad foods as long as the body gets the nutrients it needs, and frequently references books and studies to back up the value of food and sleep.

“I think restriction and eating ‘clean’ are the gateway to short-term careers,” he said. “So when you’re eating and you’re sleeping, particularly when you’re training at a high level, you’re going to be wonderful.”

Blanks can be a harsh critic; he said he ran “like a dumb [expletive]” in his interview following the NCAA cross-country championship. Reflecting a week later, he took a more forgiving stance on his race, but reinforced that every small decision to attack or restrain, even in a 10-kilometer run, has implications on the result.

“It’s harder to focus than you might think,” he said. “When you’re running so hard and you’re hurting so bad, it is kind of hard sometimes to think about those things . . . It’s really hard to make up a small gap when you’re already at, you know, 95 percent of your effort. So it’s definitely something you have to be really focused on, especially at the NCAA championship level.”

Blanks also said after the race that he runs with fear, particularly in the kick to the finish. But he’s flipped that fear into a motivating mind-set.

“I found a way to let that fear have a positive impact on how I run,” he said. “It gets to a point where it’s like, ‘Well, I’m afraid that maybe this move won’t work. So what am I going to do? Well, I’m going to do everything I can to not get caught.’ ”

Earlier in his career, Blanks could run free from the pressure of outside expectations. That was before he set Ivy League records in the indoor mile, 3K, and indoor and outdoor 5Ks, and before his dominant junior year. His spotlight has since brightened.

Blanks signed with agent Matt Sonnenfeldt of Flynn Sports Management just before his breakout victory at the Nuttycombe Invitational Oct. 13, and is receiving offers for name, image, and likeness (NIL) deals. He maintains a quiet social media presence but still tries to connect with the young runners who come to him for inspiration.

Blanks has his favorite Boston landmarks to run to: the Arnold Arboretum in Jamaica Plain, the USS Constitution in Charlestown, the Mystic Lakes in Medford, the Chestnut Hill Reservoir, and along Commonwealth Avenue. More and more members of the Boston running community recognize the NCAA champion while he’s on the roads.

How does he manage that pressure? Blanks said he has twisted the messages of Carl Sagan’s “Pale Blue Dot: A Vision of the Human Future in Space,” added a healthy outlook on nihilism, and applied it to his running career.

“The universe is really big. We’re all just on this little blue dot suspended in space in the middle of nowhere,” he said. “So why would I ever, ever put pressure on myself to win a big race, and what makes that race big in the first place?”

To Blanks, victories such as his national championship are almost a form of art. His races have the ability to inspire thousands of viewers, and that power dwarfs any negatives.

“A lot of people have irrational expectations for me,” he said. “They’re like, ‘Oh, he won this, so he should win this. He should run this time,’ Which I know is not true. I know nothing is granted. So ultimately, my pressure comes from myself. The way I framed it is, it’s just for fun.

“I love racing fast. I know that I can move people emotionally. That’s the thing I’m proudest about of my racing. People come up to me and tell me they cried when they watched my race, or they were screaming at the TV, and that’s what matters to me. Winning in the end doesn’t matter. It’s just me expressing myself in the race.”

Ethan Fuller can be reached at ethan.fuller@globe.com.