(This piece is
for my book-in-progress titled See How We Run: Best Writings from 25 Years of
Running Commentary. I am posting an
excerpt here each week, this one from August 2001.)
You don’t run
cross-country for flat, fast courses accurate to the inch, or to set PRs. You
don’t run cross-country to have every step watched, as in a track stadium, or
to mix with the masses, as on the roads. You don’t run cross-country for the
glory, since in U.S. schools it shares a season with King Football.
You run
cross-country for the purest of reasons. You run to test yourself against other
runners on whatever surface and terrain nature provides – on a course where no
car can go, and where your family and fans can catch glimpses of you only by
running from point to point. You run with teammates in a race where everyone’s
result helps or hurts the team score.
Cross-country
tests your love of running and racing for their own sake, not for PRs you might
set or attention you might grab. Once you’ve fallen for the fall sport, you
never stop loving it.
A large majority
of my autumns have passed since I last ran a full cross-country season. My
final race for Drake University was the worst. In the snowbound NCAA meet I
trailed all but a few of the finishers. The pain of that race, of failing the
team (by not scoring), and of ending a college career this way, soon eased.
But the fond
memories of those seasons remain, and I eagerly refresh them each fall at my
favorite running event of the year. It isn’t a big-city marathon or a major
track meet in my hometown, but the Oregon State High School Cross-Country
Championships.
Marc Bloom wrote
in his magazine, The Harrier, after
an emotionally overcharged Olympics, “At least we’ve got the warm and cuddly
cross-country season to make us feel better.” He loves the running that high
schoolers do in this season, since he has coached as well as written about
them.
Marc’s first love
is mine as well. The best day of the year to be a running fan in my home state
is the first Saturday in November. All sizes of high schools run their state
meet on the same course, in six races lasting as long in total as my slowest
marathon.
This is a
gathering of kids who often are ignored or misunderstood at their own schools
during King Football season, and where the runners outnumber the fans at most
of their meets. Now they come together with runners like themselves to be
appreciated for all they do.
Oregon’s
state-meet crowd is large by cross-country standards. That’s because each
runner brings along an average of two family members and friends. The viewers
care about that runner’s race almost as much as the runner does, and they dash
about the course to grab glimpses of their special athlete.
This is a
feel-good meet to watch, if not to run. These runners all seem to start at a
dead sprint, and pay later with pain.
Standing close to
the course, I feel some of what they feel at an age when feelings run to
extremes. I hurt for those who think they’ll never recover from an imagined
failure. And I celebrate with the winning individuals and teams who think they’ve
conquered the world.
If you ever ran
cross-country and want to renew those memories, or if you want to see what you
missed by not being a young runner on a team, go to a high school cross-country
race. These kids will leave you feeling good about the sport’s future as well
as their own. They’ll show you that competitive running in its purest form is
still in great shape.
UPDATE FROM 2014
Even while
coaching young runners in recent years, I’ve never guided any through a
cross-country season. Maybe that’s just as well, because my teams might not
have succeeded in the way that running success is usually measured.
I would have made
this season a respite from the time obsessions of road and track racing.
Cross-country distances would have been odd and approximate. We would have
marked no miles and shouted no splits.
The
home course would have been hilly, rough, sometimes muddy and always slow. Competition
would have been pure – runner against runner and against the elements, not the
clock.
[Hundreds
of previous articles, dating back to 1998, can be found at
joehenderson.com/archive/. Many books of mine, old and recent, are now
available in as many as three different
formats: (1) in print from Amazon.com; (2) as e-books from Amazon.com and
BarnesandNoble.com; (3) as PDFs for e-reader devices and apps, from Lulu.com.
Latest released was Going Far. Other
titles: Home Runs, Joe’s Journal, Joe’s
Team, Learning to Walk, Long Run Solution, Long Slow Distance, Marathon
Training, Run Right Now, Run Right Now Training Log, See How We Run, See How We Run, and Starting Lines, plus Rich Englehart’s book about me, Slow Joe.]
No comments:
Post a Comment