Never underestimate the power of a woman, I always say, especially a little girl with long legs, the oxygen uptake of Godzilla and a heart as big, bigger than most National parks.. When I run the boys and girls together, everybody runs faster. Everybody.
In college we would always top off our long runs by passing the women’s dorms. I remember some ferocious sprints. Just the nature of a young healthy animal. We have a great tradition of distance running here in Oysterville and over the decades there’s been a few ladies on Rayfield’s varsity squad, I can tell you that. Other coaches look at me like I’m crazy, right up until one of my girls beats one of his boys in a dual. Of course, rather than have a girl on their teams, they drop us off the schedule.
Racing’s not who you are, but how fast you go. Every once in a while, almost accidental, I find myself being politically correct.
I start the kids off with a distance that is longer than anything else they’ll ever have to race the rest of the year. Everybody always tries to work up to something, so I got to wondering what would happen if you took a different approach, maybe lowered your standard. Achievement builds confidence, it’s simple. I ask something that will never be asked of them again and then make it impossible to fail. And it’s a new angle. Kids these days have heard it all by the time they get to me.
Always begin my little spiel with a really lame joke that invariably draws a great amount of laughter. I chalk it up to hysteria. Probably praying they don’t fart out loud.
This is not a race, I tell them. This is an adventure. Think of it as a very fast nature hike. You will have a good time. You can trust: I am a coach, I tell them. Puking is allowed.
Got to the park early, measured and marked the course myself. Basically flat. I like to keep it simple so nobody gets lost. I use a loop course because you can offer more support to the athletes, more advice, water, encouragement, porta-potties. And the fans, mostly mothers and fathers, get a better view. You don’t just coach the kids, you have to coach the parents. I put up speakers and blast inspirational music. Could be Chariots of Fire or Kurt Cobain, I don’t care. Just so long as it’s got a good beat and you can to it.
Insist the high school’s cheerleaders make an appearance at every meet, too.
We call ourselves The Hole In The Wall Gang because the key to success on this course is getting through that narrow opportunity between those rocks. A hard place. Starting out, you have to sprint to the head of the pack like it was the end of the race itself. there’s no other way. Kinda demonstrates the importance of a proper warmup. And then your best tactic is another burst of speed after getting through the wall. Get in front and stay there.
That’s asking a lot, I understand that. What we call good coaching, if you got the horses.
***
I jumped the wall.
There was nowhere else to go.
The hole in the stone wall was blocked solid and I could see the front runners starting to disappear into the distance, so I just went for it. Landed hard, fell to my knees, without even thinking I was up and chasing after them.
***
Jumping the wall?! Oh, yeah, there’s another way. Hadn’t really thought of that. The red number 23 bolted up out of a cloud of dust like Michael Jordan had decided to switch careers again and sprinted after the leaders. A natural born tactician, I chuckled to myself. Suspected the steeplechase might eventually be the Rocque kid’s best event.
My top guys came by about how I expected, the older, faster boys on front. Sissy Isaccson, our top girl, not far behind. Brooks showed up looking like a big pile of dog doodie, but he had managed to get ahead of the entire jayvee squad, which was running together as an expression of team solidarity.
Actually, I think they were all in equally bad shape after goofing off all summer. You are only fourteen years old once in this life. Thank God.
***
I picked up my pace when we came by the crowd at the starting line. Hope I didn’t look as bad as I felt. Pretty sure I fooled them.
Slowed down as soon as I got out of sight. About then I realized I hadn’t run this far for a long time. Maybe not forever. Decided I’d better take inventory. Dry throat, heaving chest, pounding heart. Check. Lungs sucking, stomach churning, sweat pouring. Right. Arms pumping, legs aching. Yeah, I’m running. Are we having fun yet? I started after the girl.
She almost broke my heart. She didn’t make catching her easy. Every time I came within striking distance, she would take off. I tried to focus on her back, pretend I had a lasso around her, pull it shorter. Every time she’d stretch the rope out longer and longer. Couldn’t let the rope break.
When we came around the loop the second time, all I could hear was everybody hollering. Yelling “Go, Sissy!! Run, Sissy, Run!!”
That made me mad.
TO BE CONTINUED!
Hope you haven’t missed the first two parts of this tale.
This is Part Three.