Saturday, September 25, 2010

Cross Country

Apple picking, pumpkin carving, and cross country.  That's what fall is.  It's strange, even after all these years, being a spectator at one of these meets.  Not having to worry about warming up, or getting the team cheer in before the gun.

D2 Men warming up for the 8k

For those who never did cross country, it may be hard to see the difference between one of these races and a standard road race or trail race.  But, oh, they are different.  The only thing a cross country meet has in common with your community 5k is that people run in both.  The atmosphere is infectious.  The solidarity of each team contagious.

D2 Men lined up to start.  The driving range dividers formed the "boxes".

Each person is out there to win—even if they know they'll come in last.  The dead silence before the gun is eerie—the tension apparent to even the most casual of observers.

D2 Men starting

You don't train all summer for one race.  You don't have an "A Race" basket into which all your marbles go.  You train for the season.  You race on Tuesday, then race on Saturday.  You race twice a week for two months.  Each race pushes you to your limits.

Leaders of the D2 Men's race

No one wears a costume at a cross country race.  iPods aren't allowed, and neither are watches.  It's you, your team, and everyone else.  Sometimes you know the course, sometimes you just run.

The main pack of the D2 men's race

As you run, you know that each place counts.  You aren't running for yourself—it's for your team.  Those that say running is an individual sport need only to come to one of these meets to see how wrong they are.  Your team provides you the motivation to keep pushing.  Your team counts on you getting the best place you can—for that can be the difference between winning, or going home empty-handed.

This was a HUGE meet with live video up on the screen

You run on golf courses, in parks, around schools, and any place with a soft surface underfoot.  Spikes are the mark of the serious runner, but even those without cannot be underestimated.  You worry about how many times you need to cross a hard surface.  You worry about how muddy the course is—not because you fret getting dirty, but so you can choose what length of spikes to use.

The D2 winner.  He was Canadian—from Regina.

In many ways, you are defined by your number.  Mine was 20'03".  Many were better, some were worse.  You attack each race knowing that the true test—regionals—were coming soon.  That your performance had better improve if you wanted a chance to qualify for the state meet.

An unattached runner, and, considering what he wore, probably rightly so

The weather would cool.  While the first few meets were blazing hot, you considered wearing your tights by the time mid-October rolled around.  

The leaders of the D1 race with the pack not far behind

There are no finisher's medals, no shirts just for competing.  If you wanted a shirt, you bought one.  If you wanted a medal, you won it.  But you don't race for the hardware.  You race for yourself, and for your team.  And you knew that at that finisher's chute, after you've left everything you had out on that course, that they would be there.  The moms (and the dads too).  So you ran—to your mom, and beyond.

—— 
The photos in this post are from the 2010 Roy Griak Invitational, hosted by the University of Minnesota.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

Great description of cross country! I ran cross country for two years in HS and that describes even a D3 high school team! I am definitely one to run for myself and one to race for the freebie tshirt, but I still miss cross country meets!

Anonymous said...

Great description of cross country! I ran cross country for two years in HS and that describes even a D3 high school team! I am definitely one to run for myself and one to race for the freebie tshirt, but I still miss cross country meets!

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