A Break in the Clouds
Every time that I see your face
It's like cool, cool water running down my back
~ Jayhawks
Cool drizzle and, after last nights rain, it looks like West Philly got a good scrubbing down. What was a good Baptist deluge last night tapered into a Catholic sprinkling this morning as it washed away the city's sins.
Ran out to Cobbs Creek and down the bike path to Warrington and around. Legs were still sore this morning, deep down sore as in a) I pushed too far yesterday, and b) muscles are growing. This isn't the time for either of that, so today I just cruised and hope that the legs will enjoy the r&r they'll get from my sitting behind a desk the rest of the day.
Running down Warrington I saw a black cat lying dead in middle of the road.
Easy 6 miles in 45:07.
I've been writing so much at work lately so I will keep my writing to a minimum here. In doing so I will return to an occasional theme that I've been thinking about this fall - cross country. I contacted one of the guys I know on USP's cross country team and it looks like I'll be running a bit with them again this fall. Also, like I mentioned before, I'll run some meets with the PACTC folks, including Masters Nationals. I'm looking forward to all that, but it also seems like I'm chasing something that I won't get, like a runner ahead of me in the distance.
Mike, who I mention occasionally here as a friend and running mentor, has been sending me some great emails riffing off of stuff that I write on this blog. One of these emails was some thoughts he had on my writing about cross country. I'd like to post some of it here, not only to share but also to keep it for the record, as I'm bad about hanging onto old emails. He writes:
. . .
One thing to remember is that it is all about position, especially when running as a team member. Time is meaningless. Scoring is simple, your place is your points, add up points from first five finishers on each team, low score wins. A perfect score is 15 points. In championships, sixth and seventh men do not count in computing their team's score, but their places count to displace runners on other teams behind them that are in those teams' top five runners.
Lots of strategies unique to cross-country that road racing cannot quite replicate. Going up a hill, you try to take off after the hill is cleared. When you make a sharp turn where there is not much room visible behind you, you "check out," i.e., try to open up some distance on runners behind you while they momentarily cannot see you. You try to save something for a kick at the end of the race if you are a kicker, if not, you have to run away from the kickers so that you are too far ahead when they start kicking.
Very often you have to get out of the start quick, may be a wide start that narrows quite a bit and stays narrow for awhile. There, you have to get position before the course narrows. Van Cortlandt Park (located in the Bronx) is famous for this kind of start.
VCP is sort of akin to the Yankee Stadium/Fenway Park of cross-country courses. Belmont Plateau is also well-known, featuring Flagpole Hill, Parachute Hill and "Sure-Kill" Hill, though Sure-Kill is not part of the recent versions, and that was the hardest hill of all. . . .
I think what makes cross-country special is the fact that it is yourself and at least six others, and you are all trying to do the same thing as well as you can, yet you know that your top three can run great, and if your next four flop, you can lose the meet (at least a meet with three teams or more). So you are concerned about the welfare of all your teammates. You also have this incredible desire not to let down your teammates by letting up. I was always a better runner as a member of a team than I ever was on my own.
I think the most distress I have been in after races has been cross-country races. Yet the feeling after running one well is equally satisfying.
I like this alot; in explaining the sport he also captures what I imagine to be the spirit and the attraction of it. Thanks Mike.
It's like cool, cool water running down my back
~ Jayhawks
Cool drizzle and, after last nights rain, it looks like West Philly got a good scrubbing down. What was a good Baptist deluge last night tapered into a Catholic sprinkling this morning as it washed away the city's sins.
Ran out to Cobbs Creek and down the bike path to Warrington and around. Legs were still sore this morning, deep down sore as in a) I pushed too far yesterday, and b) muscles are growing. This isn't the time for either of that, so today I just cruised and hope that the legs will enjoy the r&r they'll get from my sitting behind a desk the rest of the day.
Running down Warrington I saw a black cat lying dead in middle of the road.
Easy 6 miles in 45:07.
I've been writing so much at work lately so I will keep my writing to a minimum here. In doing so I will return to an occasional theme that I've been thinking about this fall - cross country. I contacted one of the guys I know on USP's cross country team and it looks like I'll be running a bit with them again this fall. Also, like I mentioned before, I'll run some meets with the PACTC folks, including Masters Nationals. I'm looking forward to all that, but it also seems like I'm chasing something that I won't get, like a runner ahead of me in the distance.
Mike, who I mention occasionally here as a friend and running mentor, has been sending me some great emails riffing off of stuff that I write on this blog. One of these emails was some thoughts he had on my writing about cross country. I'd like to post some of it here, not only to share but also to keep it for the record, as I'm bad about hanging onto old emails. He writes:
Most serious runners that I have met that started young, started in cross-country. Partly because there were no limits on how big a team you could have, some schools had as many as 100 runners. Except for championship meets (seven runners per race) everyone could run. It also takes care immediately of whether you are tough enough physically and mentally to be a distance runner in the first place. Plus, cross-country kicks off the school year, track ends it.
One thing to remember is that it is all about position, especially when running as a team member. Time is meaningless. Scoring is simple, your place is your points, add up points from first five finishers on each team, low score wins. A perfect score is 15 points. In championships, sixth and seventh men do not count in computing their team's score, but their places count to displace runners on other teams behind them that are in those teams' top five runners.
Lots of strategies unique to cross-country that road racing cannot quite replicate. Going up a hill, you try to take off after the hill is cleared. When you make a sharp turn where there is not much room visible behind you, you "check out," i.e., try to open up some distance on runners behind you while they momentarily cannot see you. You try to save something for a kick at the end of the race if you are a kicker, if not, you have to run away from the kickers so that you are too far ahead when they start kicking.
Very often you have to get out of the start quick, may be a wide start that narrows quite a bit and stays narrow for awhile. There, you have to get position before the course narrows. Van Cortlandt Park (located in the Bronx) is famous for this kind of start.
VCP is sort of akin to the Yankee Stadium/Fenway Park of cross-country courses. Belmont Plateau is also well-known, featuring Flagpole Hill, Parachute Hill and "Sure-Kill" Hill, though Sure-Kill is not part of the recent versions, and that was the hardest hill of all. . . .
I think what makes cross-country special is the fact that it is yourself and at least six others, and you are all trying to do the same thing as well as you can, yet you know that your top three can run great, and if your next four flop, you can lose the meet (at least a meet with three teams or more). So you are concerned about the welfare of all your teammates. You also have this incredible desire not to let down your teammates by letting up. I was always a better runner as a member of a team than I ever was on my own.
I think the most distress I have been in after races has been cross-country races. Yet the feeling after running one well is equally satisfying.
I like this alot; in explaining the sport he also captures what I imagine to be the spirit and the attraction of it. Thanks Mike.
posted by seebo | 8:43 AM
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