I have always loved track more than XC. I am the opposite of Ben Furcht's penntrack account bio (xc>track. Like Ricky Bobby, I prefer going fast. If I had things my way my friends will tell you that I would rather run all my works and even some long runs on the track that out on the roads or the fields. I'd rather go head to head in a battle of raw 400 speed than toil away for 5,000m at Belmont Plateau. But I would never give up cross country season to have another season of track. Why? Well, coss country has an element that track can not ever hope to match. Cross country is truly a team sport, bringing runners together to win and lose as a united force. The courses are different from week to week so in most cases, times are out the window. You run for the six other guys going to battle with you every week to try to place as high as possible as a team. In my four years of track I never felt any real bond with my fellow sprinters and jumpers and throwers, but I'd take a bullet for the guys who toed the line with me in the fall.
Perhaps a tad over dramatic, I doubt I would take a bullet for Ian McGrath, but I think you can see my point.
In 2009, I had the privelge of being chosen as a captain for the Upper Dublin cross country team. What made this honor so special was the simple fact that I was elected not by my coach, but by my teammates, whose respect I appreciate beyond words. However, the task that faced myself and fellow captains Ryan Desch and Ian McGrath (he was close enough to a captain to be counted as one) was not easy. Our team had just lost the greatest runner in school history (Mike Palmisano), two of the gutsiest runners I have ever seen (Paul Reilly and Sam Stortz), and two rare talents in Matt Lorenzo and Pat Reilly. We returned only our 7th runner from the 2008 5th place state championship team. Needless to say we were on the sharp decline.
But this didn't mean we didn't set our sights on big goals. We wanted to prove to everyone that Upper Dublin was still a name to be reckoned with. However, we didn't do much in the early races to show it. We got slammed by North Penn, and rocked at Carlisle by pretty much everyone. But we were growing. Newbies Pete Schartel and Francis Ferruzzi were showcasing some talent, and a solid 1-5 pack gave us hope for a league title.
Every day in practice, we warmed up together. We joked around, made fun of everyone's little differences. No one was spared the sharp axe of comic taunting. I was a nerd, Francis was 6 years old, Desch was the dude, Ian was even more of the dude, Charlie was a devil worshipper, Mitch's hips didn't lie, and Todd was a mass murderer with multiple dead hookers in his closet. But in workouts we were all business. Everyone had something to bring to the table to help the cause. Some of us could take the pace in a difficult workout and grind it out up front to help everyone hit the pace. Others had speed to help kick it at the end. And still others just had experience and the wise advice that came with it. Overall, from June to October we toiled in blazing heat, pouring rain, and thunderstorms that scared even the likes of Tanzer. In that time we shared a rare combination of body fluids: blood, sweat, tears (although I think I was probably the only one who cried when none of my favorite runners accepted my friend request), and, in McGrath's case anyway, vomit out on the roads and trails of Upper Dublin.
So when our moment finally came to reach our goals and make a name for ourselves, naturally we had a story book ending? The little engine that could won the league championships and lived happily ever after? Unfortunately, no. With great love also comes great loss. At Lehigh that day Upper Dublin lost to Wissahickon by just 4 little points. In the final 200m straightaway our team lost approximately 10 points between our scoring five. It was heartbreaking, easily the saddest moment of my high school career. To feel like I had let down those other guys with whom I had sacrificed all that time with friends and family. With whom I had woken up at 8 am to go run brutal hill workouts. With whom I had shared so many laughs at the IHOP by the movie theatre after those same workouts. Needless to say it felt good to go back into the cornfields after the race and just break things.
But running has a way of surprising you. Nothing is guarenteed as we knew all too well from our League Championships. The next weekend at the District Championships we went out with one goal: to leave satisfied with our season. We still had a chance to show District One Upper Dublin was no joke. We were still fit and in the best shape of our lives. So we ran hard. During the first 200m I found myself leading a group of my teammates in the lead pack with guys like Brad Miles, Sam Bernitt and Tom Mallon. Nick Scarpello ran by with some type of war cry. It was a new day. We had a chance to do something. But then by the mile marker I heard a 5:15 mile split. Yuck. The muddy mess that was Lehigh had clearly slowed things a little. As I passed two miles I knew my time had to be slow. I could see no one else from the team. But this was it. This was the end of my season. I couldn't let those guys wearing the UD jersey down. So I ran like people were chasing me to the finish. The time wasn't a PR but I felt I had at least given it my all. I walked into a group of teammates with disappointed faces and legs covered in mud and sweat. I thought although our team didn't accomplish our goals, we still never gave in to the pain, and ran the best we could.
But nothing in running is ever guarenteed. It turns out everyone was historically slow that day. So slow in fact that the Upper Dublin team finished 10th at Districts. In my mind a very respectable finish for a team that seemingly returned no one running in the fastest district in the state. What made it even more impressive to me was that we finished that high without a single individual qualifying for states. We ran as a true pack, a true team, and that's what led us to victory.
I have a lot of great running memories like breaking 2 and running at the Penn Relays and indoor state championships, but none of those memories are as special to me as what we accomplished that day at Lehigh. The picture of the seven of us, mud splattered and fatigued standing arms around one another, sits on my dresser now and will sit on my college dresser for the second straight fall. It is a constant reminder of the bond of hard work, determination and friendship I shared with my entire 2009 team. Yes even you Andrew Zeng. That is what cross country has that makes it so special.
It may not seem like a big deal, but to us, it justified everything we had done for 4 years.
Good luck this season gentleman.
etrain
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