GPHS fall sports ended roughly one month ago. In this article, Max discusses what he believes to be the most underappreciated fall sport: cross country.
Five thousand meters is the duration of a high school cross country race. 3.1 miles. A length that most people could not even bear to jog. Cross country runners, however? They run the entire distance without ever stopping. The determination of those who participate in this sport often goes unsung in the halls of Grants Pass High School; the presence of other fall sports, such as football or soccer, takes up most of the attention from our local sports fans. Perhaps the nature of cross country itself bores people. “It’s just running!” some may say. Sure, it may just be running, but is running not so brilliantly interesting? Is such outstanding endurance and tenacity not the pinnacle of athletic capability?
I run cross country. I am number six on our school’s boys varsity team, with my fastest time this season being a 17:19 5000m at Portland’s Rose City meet. What follows is my best attempt to describe how that race felt.
The course is fast, largely composed of long, grassy downhill stretches, with very few uphill climbs. In addition to that, it is a three-lap course. The first mile consists of one lap on the course, the second mile is two laps, and so on for the third. I put on my spikes and line up at the start with the other varsity boys. We wish each other good luck; today, all of us are trying to achieve a new personal record. The gunshot rings. We are off running.
It takes some initial bravery to even begin with cross country. Practices can be exhausting, races even more so. An athlete is susceptible to scrutiny from others and, furthermore, from themselves. Running reveals to themselves and to others just how long it takes before they begin to tire. It reveals just how bad their form may be, and it reveals how much better or worse of a runner they are than those around them. It often goes understated just how daunting this can be. Randi Stuart, head coach of Grants Pass High School cross country, believes that this is precisely what makes long-distance running so special. “You can’t hide from it. All your vulnerabilities are exposed, and you have to face them and work through them. It is amazing to watch individuals work through that.” This facing of fears that nearly all distance runners experience in one way or another is one of the most liberating feelings in the sport. It truly cannot be stated how wondrous of a thing it is when these hurdles–both mental and physical–are surpassed.
There are hundreds of runners on the course. It is imperative that I do not start off too slow, or I will linger too far behind the other runners and potentially get trapped behind those far slower than I am, and it is equally imperative to not go out too fast, or I will quickly tire. I am running over three miles, after all. Pacing is important for long-distance races. Unfortunately for me, I am very bad at pacing.
We reach the first mile marker. My split was 5:22. That seems too fast. I may get tired soon; only time will tell. The first mile never really hurts in a race, but the second mile always hurts the most; it is when fatigue begins to set in, and when one’s motivation may start to falter. This is typically where I start to be passed by those who pace better than me. Each time I get passed, I fight. I never make it easy; I ignore the pain and speed up, catching those who thought they could catch me. Ideally. I sometimes lose the battle and watch as my opponent travels further and further away, slowly disappearing from the narrower vision created by my irresolute focus. This does not deter me. Why would it? What matters is finishing the race strong and courageous, having put in as much effort as physically capable.
That is what a race boils down to, after all. Determination and drive can carry a person to heights that they never thought imaginable. GPHS junior Benjamin Glass said that “You don’t have to be the fastest, or the strongest. You just have to be the toughest.” Glass is one of two Grants Pass athletes to make it to the State Championship meet this season. “I felt really happy when I qualified for State,” he said. “I’d been trying since my freshman year. It was a culmination of a lot of good things.” Wholehearted dedication to the art of distance running brings about immense results. Even if one cannot sprint particularly fast or lift a very heavy weight, the endurance that comes from consistent effort reigns supreme in the realm of long distances. The ability to silence thoughts such as “I can’t do this,” or “this hurts so badly” becomes the philosophy that allows for everything else to fall into place. It all depends upon consistency and a brilliant refusal to quit.
If this is not already made obvious, it is disingenuous to say that cross country is simply running with no substance. It goes beyond the races. Runners travel as a team, and they score points as a team. The performance of every single person matters. As such, words of encouragement often ring out before, during, and after practice. They persist until the very minute before a race starts and continue to be echoed after a race’s conclusion. GPHS freshman Stella Williams, the other Grants Pass athlete to qualify for the State Championships, cited the District meet when asked about her favorite moments from this season, and was careful to stress the importance and appreciation she holds for her teammates. She said, “Districts was great because I was proud of myself, and the team…” The sense of community created by cross country is a truly fantastic thing; it must be heard to be fully known. Those who do long-distance running are “a different type of people,” as Williams put it–fiercely determined in themselves but also determined in their team as a whole. A legion of people whose morale is fueled simply by being in each other’s presence.
I hold my head high as I finally complete the second mile. The end is fast approaching; only one and one-tenth miles remain. I speed up ever so slightly. Now is my turn to start passing other racers. This course has many downhill stretches, and I do very well going downhill. Half a mile now remains. Then a quarter mile. I am close to finishing, and I still feel strong, despite the fatigue and lactic acid coursing through my legs. I give everything I have left, pushing as hard as I can. There are two hundred meters left. I can almost see the finish line. Now one hundred, and the end is directly in front of me. I start to sprint, catching as many people as I can along the way, legs pounding against the grass, arms swinging wildly yet still controlled, breathing intensely, ignoring everything around me: all that exists is myself and the approaching finish line. I cross it, and nearly vomit. My legs hurt, my chest hurts, even my head hurts, but I feel fantastic. I set a new personal record, after all.
So, is cross country really that uninteresting of a sport? Given all the behind-the-scenes teambuilding and the endless mental work, does our school truly not owe any recognition to our runners and what they do? Stella Williams said, “We’re so overlooked. I one-thousand percent believe cross country deserves more recognition.” Benjamin Glass agreed, stating that “Cross country gets no recognition ever.” To neglect the sport is understandable; not much information can be gathered from merely watching a race. Other fall sports are full of action; indeed, spectators can view the entire event from start to finish-- see its peaks and see its valleys, all of which are filled with excitement. The spectacle of cross country is far more subtle. To appreciate cross country, one must think further than what they see. They must fully consider the athletes and their individual stories, their unbreakable courage, their tenacity, and the elation that comes from finally crossing the finish line.
Interview with Benjamin Glass
Interview with Randi Stuart
Interview with Stella Williams