Running: 1991 Cross Country

(This is part 12, preceded by 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10 and 11.)

I've spent a lot of time perusing my old running journals as I've written this multi-part retrospective. I can't express how eye-opening it's been to read what the 17-year-old version of me was thinking, versus how I remember that part of my life almost 20 years later.

I didn't realize it at the time, but during the summer of 1992, I transitioned from the up-and-coming runner to the one everyone else chased. For nearly two years, I'd been obsessed with the beating certain people and winning a state championship. Now, I'd beaten everyone on my list, won two championships and had a hard time focusing on new goals.

I worked for my dad's roofing company every summer of high school. Most days, including Saturdays, the work lasted from 6 a.m. to around 5 p.m. The money was great, but it did my running no favors. Between mid-June and mid-August (when cross country practice started), I averaged 88 miles of training per week. So, that's 50+ hours of outdoor construction work, plus at least 10 hours of running, every week. It was too much.

But, again, I didn't realize it at the time. I opened my senior cross country season by winning our home invitational, which was my first-ever cross country victory. I placed third at the Park Hill Invite, behind Missouri's top two runners, Randon Richards and Sam Wells. At Leavenworth, I ran my only poor race of the year, finishing fourth. I was ill that week, but my journal entry for that race was unforgiving: "…was close to winner at end, but wimped out and didn't go after him."

After Leavenworth, I bounced back with wins at the KC Metro meet and Blue Valley Invite. Randon got me again at the STA Fall Run. But I went undefeated the rest of the season. I won the Eastern Kansas League meet by a minute, after which Bishop Miege's coach (a friend of our coach) approached me with some advice. He'd heard I jogged a few miles before school each day and suggested I stop because it was probably tiring me out. I replied, "With all due respect, coach, I just beat your best guy by a minute. I think my routine is working pretty well."

I capped the season with a regional title (and course record) at Blue Valley, then a 25-second win at the state meet in Manhattan. (That meet was delayed a week due to snow/ice and we ended up running on the roads at Tuttle Creek Park.) All told, six wins and three more top-four finishes. I didn't lose to anyone from Kansas. Pretty good season, especially for someone who didn't (and never did) see himself as a good cross country runner.



I wish I allowed myself to have more fun that season, though. I approached every workout and every race with this feeling that I had to be "on" all the time. And that kept me from enjoying the ride as much as I should have. Beyond what I accomplished individually, our team went from not qualifying for state in 1988 or 1989 to becoming a serious title contender in 1991. We finished in the top three at seven of our nine meets. It really was a great group of guys.

There's this piece of video that sums the season up for me. I'm standing on the podium at the state meet, along with two teammates who placed in the top 15. And I look like I'd rather be anywhere else. Partly because I don't care for that kind of attention. But mostly because I was already thinking about the next race.