A CROSS-COUNTRY RUNNER IS…….

Between the innocence of boy-hood and the dignity of manhood, one finds an extraordinarily     dedicated creature called a cross-country runner.

He is generally a composite of the American boy…..skinny or heavy, short-legged or long-legged,    long-haired or short-haired, apple-cheeked or sallow, bubbly or shy, wise-cracking or stammering.

Whatever his looks, he lives by the creed of every genuine cross-country runner:  “To run every     second and every mile of every race to the very best of my ability.”

The cross-country runner is found everywhere……slipping through the halls……wallowing through       the crowded winter traffic (generally just at dusk)….groping in a beautiful sunrise on the local golf course….disappearing in the dust of cars on a lonely, dry summer road….pussy-footing along the painfully hot tar roads of July….whipping into whirlpool baths…..intervaling on indoor tracks…..       loping around lakes.

Motorists chastise them, team-mates rib them, coaches criticize them, students cheer them, kid brothers idolize them, girls adore them, alumni tolerate them, football players can’t understand       them, fathers encourage them, and moms worry about them.

A cross-country runner eats like UCLA…..sleeps like Oregon…..thinks about distance running           like the University of Texas-El Paso….but often runs like Pumpkin Center Unified.

He can be observed in a host of unusual activities…..fartleking……over-distancing…..intervaling…..speed working…..hilling….circuiting….peaking…..weight-lifting…..          and, when the pain of it all becomes too much, simply “walking” or “sitting”…..

When he’s not running well (according to Coach), he has too many other interests,  like girls….chemistry….girls….physics….girls….calculus..girls…..just can’t concentrate….won’t  do        his weight-training….can’t dedicate…..or is just a bag of injuries.

When he’s running well, (according to Coach), he is one of the hardest-working, most coachable athletes in school…..is totally dedicated…..will undoubtedly be a state champion….and is just a “physically tough” kid.

To the opponents’ public relations man, he is sure to be a national leader as junior….  run a 1:55,    4:16, 9:21 triple in the spring….and is probably the best distance runner in the history of the conference.  He is Nick Rose, Steve Prefontane, and Mike Boit wrapped up in one.

To his own coach’, for press purposes, he lacks the real killer instinct demanded by great runners…..he has the emotional stability of a playful cricket….the sprinting ability of a large snail….and is as coachable as a mule (though Coach knows all the time he will win state).

To the alumnus, the cross-country runner is a nice kid who simply doesn’t have the background            ….has not developed the distance base….will not go with the competition….can’t run uphill….and   hasn’t the ability to kick like the five great runners on the 1967 team that finished second in the conference and almost qualified for state.

The cross-country runner likes news releases, “video tapes of winning efforts:, recognition of a       victory on the morning school P.A. system plus….medals….ribbons….cheerleaders….flat courses….overnight trips….practice sessions the night before the meets….the nights Coach has         to miss practice….new shoes….rub-downs….pictures in the yearbook….new uniforms….       conference championships….trips to state….and school records.

He is not especially fond of run-offs for seventh man…blisters…shorts that rub…heavy                 running shirts…time-trials…team warm-ups, especially calisthenics…weight-training workouts…  washing his sweats…obnoxious motorists…hilly courses…big dogs…waiting for the race                 (but he lives with these things and has fond memories of them).

No one else looks forward as much to fall or so little to November.

No one else can look at a field of 150 runners and know that he will finish 67^th….

No one else can have so many aches and pains and yet turn in excellent performances when             the name of the game is “the big meet”…

No one else feels defeat as deeply or as personally as the cross-country runner who had devoted           1,500 miles of training in preparation for the big race…

No one else finds the same satisfaction and exhilaration in forcing every part of his body to the           limit.

The cross-country runner is a wonderful creature…

You can criticize him, but you can’t discourage him…

You can beat him, but you can’t make him quit…

You can take him out of cross-country, but you can’t take cross-country out of him…

You might as well admit it….alumnus, fan or coach….he is your representative in the great           international sport of distance running….your symbol of American competitiveness….your totem of fair play and determination.

He may not be a state champion or qualifier for the Olympic team….he is not judged by his color, religion, or social standing….he is measured simply by the democratic yardstick of how fast he         can run, how far he can run, and how much be sacrifices for the good of his team and school.

The cross-country runner is a hard-working, untiring and determined young man.  When you leave      the cross-country course moaning about a second or third place finish in a quality meet, he is the youngster, who, with a smudge of dirt on his cheek, sweat on his brow, pain in his body, and a         tear in his eye, humbles and enriches you with a few simple words:  “We tried.”