The Woodberry Harrier 2010: Volume 1

Prologue

            In the middle of Dog Days, when the air thickens and the creeks dry up and the grass dies, I start to glance at the horizon and wonder if I can rouse myself for another year.   The very thought of all the hurrying and scurrying and working and worrying is enough to make me reach for my iced tea and sink deeper into the porch swing.   I wonder a moment at myself for getting so madly involved in something as small (in "The  Big Picture") as a high school cross country season--over and over again, year in and year out.    In the world's terms, there is no simply logical reason.  But the heart has its own reasons, and its truth has nothing to do with things like cost-to-benefit ratios.  (Bacon says of "Truth," she may well "rise to the price of a pearl, which showeth best by day," but she will not "rise to the price of a diamond or carbunkle that showeth best in varied lights.")

            And we were not at camp for half a day before I was reminded that the heart was right again.    How many times do I have to be reminded that a cross country season is not a "season" at all?  When we enter it rightly and dwell in it fully, we enter forever and dwell in a timeless time where our rituals and trials conjure things eternal:  friendship, brotherhood, hard work and shared striving,  the humming awareness of being awake and alive here and now.     Of course Truth never comes dressed in words.   She just shows up out of the blue like an old friend looking no worse for wear laughing when you open the door.  She arrives in little, out-of-the-way moments like this:

            We are driving in the van to the drop for a run we do (and love) every year,  and the guys are arguing with me about where we started last year.   They remember one place, I, another.  We are all adamant.   Driving away,  I realize that the excitement---and the real fun---of the argument had nothing to do with being right and everything to do with arguing about a shared experience, about our life and times together one weekend a year out in a far corner of the Virginia hills on a road we have discovered, where we never see anyone else.

            We are heading to West Virginia on a warm, clear afternoon, and we have the highway to ourselves.  We are crossing the Jackson River, which flows from the mountains to the West down through the pastures on either side of the road, Dwight Yoakam is singing Buck Owens' songs, and I am delighted that the guys have not complained about it, that they seem to be liking it.  I venture a look in the rearview, and they are all---every last one of them---sound asleep.   There have been times when I would have despaired to see them missing scenery, but an easy peace settles on me.  This morning they sat through a long talk and worked out hard and stretched and fixed lunch and washed dishes, and now they have settled into a shared contentment and ease.  What is it about sleeping children and dogs that soothes the soul?

            I am in the national forest pedaling as fast as I can to meet the runners whom I have let out 45 minutes earlier on top of the mountain.  It is later than I planned, the cove is already darkening, and I am feeling that old panic rise.  I am ready to start counting heads as they pass me.  I am imagining injuries, wrong turns, late searching in darkness.  Then I see heads bobbing down the long green tunnel, and in minutes they are passing me all at once in a giant cluster, not a long string but a gliding, smiling, mass. 

            We have finished a big meal, and there is noise and movement in every corner.  One boy is sweeping and another is kneeling with the dustpan.  One boy is wiping off the kitchen counters and another is following with a soapy rag.  In the dish room one boy is scrubbing and one is rinsing.   Two more are mixing Gatorade:  tasting, mixing, sneaking in sugar, debating, tasting again.  Chatter hums like electricity:  movie lines recited, opinions ventured, stories told, laughter on cue.

            Back on campus, we entered the dreary days of orientation and the beginning of our weekly routine.   On Saturday we kicked off the season in Fredericksburg at The Chancellor Invitational, which is a good meet on a decent course.   The highlight of the day was watching Kevin handily win his first big invitational.  He ran very well (and earned himself his first filmed interview after the meet).   (By the way, you can see that and follow rankings, results and competition on Milestat.com.)

Here are the results:

Chancellor Invitational
Loriella Park, Fredericksburg
4 September, 2010
7th place out of 20 teams 1-5  spread:  2:40 1-7- spread:  2:55
Runner	Time	Place out of 183
Bennert	16:28	1st	a 14-sec. course PR---and his first big invitational win
Grantham	18:28	41st
Laws	18:52	49th	a 17-sec. course PR
Garrison	18:57	51st
Winston	19:08	61st	a 2:34 course PR!!!!!
Trudgeon	19:19	74th
Shelton	19:23	78th
Flynn	19:25	81st
Exum	20:53	133rd
Gimbert	DNF
Rafield	DNR

            And on Tuesday we ran in the Ragged Mountain Cup, which had been postponed the week before because of the heat.   We were a little flat after a hard day on Monday, but Kevin and Hagood both earned coveted Ragged Mountain T-shirts, and Conor Flynn almost made it into the top-25 as well.   Here are the results:

2010 Ragged Mountain Cup
A Team :  5th out of 30 Teams B Team: 7th C Team: 8th 1 – 5 Gap:  1:37 1-7 Gap:  1:42
Runner	Time	Place out of 120
Bennert	10:16	3rd
Grantham	11:40	22nd
Flynn	11:47	27th	a 16-sec. PR from '09
Gimbert	11:52	33rd
Laws	11:53	34th
Garrison	11:56	38th
Trudgeon	11:58	39th
Shelton	12:11	44th
Winston	12:21	57th	a 1-sec. PR from '09
Exum	12:45	71st
Rafield	13:04	84th
Worseley	13:53	109th

 

And the day after Ragged Mountain, the regular routine began.  It is always a pleasure to introduce new members of the team to our places:  the "Battle Field trail" across the river, "The Wall,"  the entrance woods loop, the river trail, Arrowpoint, "Dump Loop," all the terrain they will be able to run blindfolded by the end of the season.    

            On Saturday we went down to St. Chris to run in the first meet they have ever hosted on their campus, to mark their homecoming weekend.  They had laid out a fast, flat course, and we had some impressive  times.  Here are those results:

Woodberry Forest (20) vs. St. Christopher's (40)
5000 meters on St. Christopher's Campus
11 September  2010
A Team :  1st out of 2 Teams 1 – 5 Gap:  1:14 1-7 Gap:  1:28
Runner	Time	Place out of 25	Notes
Bennert	17:09	1st
Laws	18:10	3rd
Winston	18:14	4th	a 14-sec. all-time PR!!!
Garrison	18:17	5th
Grantham	18:23	7th	a 5-sec PR from Chancellor
Rafield	18:35	8th	a 1-sec. all-time PR
Gimbert	18:37	10th
Trudgeon	18:38	11th
Flynn	18:39	12th
Shelton	18:42	13th
Exum	20:14	19th	a 39-sec PR from Chancellor

But the truth is that we could not completely enjoy the times at St. Chris after we saw Trinity's times from that morning at FUMA.   They won that meet, beating even Albemarle, and their times (even when converted from 3-mile to 5K) were amazing.  My friends in Richmond tell me they trained as a team all summer with real discipline and passion, and it certainly shows.  I don't believe they are more talented, and I know they are not tougher, but we know now that we must work with incredible focus and dedication to catch them.   I think we are ready to do that.