Not a spectator sport

As we are still down a sports writer, I jumped at the opportunity to cover the Iowa High School State Cross Country Meet in Fort Dodge last week.

I was a cross country runner in high school, and the sport has always been something I’m passionate about.

This was my first time attending the state meet in Iowa, as I ran in Wisconsin. It’s been awhile since I’ve attended a cross country meet, but even across state lines, the atmosphere is nearly identical.

One of my favorite parts of cross country is that it’s not a spectator sport - it’s a participation sport. As I walked to find my spot for the boys race, fans ran around me cheering on the girls. Grandparents, coaches, little siblings, all of them ran from spot to spot to find their runner. It’s the most dedicated fan base in all of sports.

The sounds of cheering, cowbells and the announcer updating spectators on the status of the runners in the lead was eerily similar. If I closed my eyes, I could almost imagine myself back in my high school jersey.

I went out for cross country in seventh grade. I’m not really sure why I did - maybe because my dad ran cross country and encouraged me to go out for it. I honestly don’t remember.

I quit before team pictures. We ran what we call the “garbage loop,” an almost 3-mile route, and I was out. I was not about that life.

That year I ran the mile in gym the fastest I had ever ran it, and I did it without stopping. I was so proud of myself. I wondered how much I could improve if I ran for an entire season.

I went out again my eighth grade year and made it through the season. I was OK at best.

In high school, things got serious. About 25% of high school students were in cross country. More than 30 boys and 30 girls in a school of around 240.

In the summer, we had “run-togethers” twice a week hosted by different families. I still remember my first run together. We ran five miles. I came home exhausted. I had never ran so far in my life.

Every year before the first race, the team runs time trials to figure out where everyone is at and who will be on varsity for the first meet. I expected, and everyone else probably expected, me to be middle of the junior varsity team.

I ended up placing sixth on the team - enough for the seven-person varsity squad. I still remember I passed a fellow freshman on the final hill before the finish and she was convinced I had missed a loop. I don’t blame her. No one, including myself, expected anything of me.

After that race, I was hooked. I ended up placing second in our conference that year. We went on to be four-year conference champions and four year sectional champions. I ran at the Wisconsin State Cross Country Meet all four years.

I was voted most improved my freshman year and most valuable my sophomore year. An injury my junior year set me back although I remained on varsity throughout the season.

My senior year was the most amazing and devastating of the sport.

Both our girls team and boys team were unstoppable. We were both ranked top two in the state. The girls team had myself and another senior as the top two runners - we finished first and second in conference that year. Then we had “the pack.” Coined by the local paper, the pack was four girls who ran together and passed runners as one.

You could see a runner’s fortitude crumble as four girls from the same team passed them all at once.

They even had to change conference rules as we had the first junior varsity runner earn All-Conference. We had eight runners in the top 15.

Come to the state meet - the day we’d been waiting for. The boys ran first - my now husband on the team. We stood watching the scoreboard, waiting for team results to load. Then, to our euphoria, it came up with Darlington in the top spot.

More motivated than ever, we took our spots behind the start line. I hate that course, I always have. We all gave it everything we had.

As I ran down the final stretch, a girl from Spring Valley passed me. I’ll never forget that moment. Because cross country isn’t like football or basketball. You don’t know what the score is. You don’t know what you need to do to win until it’s already over.

Spring Valley beat us by two points. Had she not passed me, we would have been state champions. I still remember the headline - “Silver lining soothes Lady Birds’ broken heart.”

That was 10 years ago, and I’m still not over that loss. But there’s something profound about learning how to pick yourself back up and keep trying.