Reigniting the Spark (UCC 1979)

The Oregon Waffle! You could have felt stepping on a grain of rice.

One of the most pivotal moments in my life occurred on a quiet Sunday evening in July 1979. I received a phone call from the cross-country coach for nearby Umpqua Community College, asking if I was interested in being on their team.

Understand that it had been my dream for years to run for a college and right there on the phone was a coach offering to make that dream come true.

Of course, I said "no", adding that I was burned out on running.

WTF?

A little back story helps. I wasn't especially proud of the final months of high school. A big part of that included having a lousy track season that I was certain had wiped out any real chance of running in college, The few times I donned my Oregon Waffles since graduation were half-hearted jogs, culminating in an ill-advised eight-mile effort on a hot Saturday afternoon that convinced me I was completely done with running.

That was until I hung up the phone. Once I'd put that receiver down, my mind was immediately bombarded with a multitude of questions. Was I really done with running? Could I actually pass up such an opportunity? Could I live with myself if I did?

Secret Training

I'd received a workout schedule in the mail a couple weeks earlier from UCC. But since no one had actually reached out to me, I'd dismissed it as another form letter.

Before going to bed that night, I dug it out of a drawer and read though the next week's workouts. Tomorrow would be 5 miles in the morning with 3 later in the day. By this time, a decision had been made. Even if zero chance existed of me making that team, I had to at least put forth an effort. Without a word to my parents or friends or anyone, from that Monday forward, I religiously followed every workout listed. Two runs each weekday with a long one on Saturdays and Sundays off.  That meant getting up earlier before work for the morning run and tackling the afternoon heat once I'd gotten home for the second one.

The calendar also listed a time trail on the last Saturday in August. Six weeks to train for one final shot at my dream.

It goes without saying that nearly every segment of my body from the waist down hurt like they had never before during those first several days, a painful reminder of how far I'd let my conditioning fall. But those aching muscles did not stop me. By the start of that second week, the soreness began to subside. From there, it lessened each day until every run felt more and more comfortable.

Of greater significance, as my body eased back into running shape, pointless reflections on those final months of high school were nudged aside by thoughts of my future. What would it be like if I made the team? Who would be my teammates? How would going to community college differ from high school? How many cute girls would there be? Would they like me?

As the self-pity dissipated, a more positive mindset took hold. One that received a boost each day that those hills weren't quite as tough as the day before and when I felt my legs moving faster on those fartlek's. Within a few weeks, I felt better than I had in months.

The view of the eastern end of my hometown from a familiar training route.

The Time Trial

The big day arrived with me making the fifteen-minute drive to Umpqua Community College. There weren't as many as I'd expected. Most of whom I recognized. Now seriously embarrassed over my response on that Sunday call, I had no idea how to talk with this coach who clearly had not expected me to show up. (No, I wasn't smart enough to call him back to say that I was going to be there.) I timidly huddled into the far corner of the back seat as he drove several of us to the start of our race.

It was just as well since the coach talked the entire drive to a runner in the passenger seat. This guy had been a star the previous year at a nearby high school, slaughtering me in a 3000-meter race a few months back. With his eyes barely on the road, the coach made it clear to this guy that his tuition would be covered and to contact him if he had any problems. I just tried to shrink lower into my seat.

The time trial itself consisted of running four miles out and back on a narrow, minimally traveled highway.  Leading us would be an elite runner who'd graduated from the college, after securing every long-distance record. 

I just didn't want to be so slow that I didn't get a ride back to my car.

However, to my complete amazement, once we started, the other runners did not immediately leave me coughing in a cloud of dust. I was actually able to keep up. Nearing the first mile, I even felt strong enough to pass one of them. Less than a half mile later, I moved ahead of another runner. And so on. Having ran alone for weeks and living in a time before Garmin watches, I had no idea about my conditioning. I kept expecting the other runners to yell "Psyche" before blazing past me.

But that didn't happen. By the time we reached the pylon where we turned around, the only runner ahead of me was the elite guy. Even more surprising, although I knew I was working hard, my pace felt comfortable. At this point, I dared to believe that I could hold off a challenge from those other runners. With half a mile to go, I realized that I was really beating them. 

Even after all these years, I cannot recall many more moments that provided the sheer elation of winning that time trial.  As icing on the cake, on the return trip, I was the one the coach talked to nonstop about paying my tuition, helping out if I had questions and so on - even though I was still in the back seat. His neck had to hurt after turning around so many times.

My dream of running cross country in college had become a reality.

UCC - Where I spent two years faithfully bleeding green and white!

What That Meant Then and Today

As excited as I was, I was also realistic. Our full team had not been present for the time trial.  We had one other talented freshman coming as well as the top runner from the previous season. For that matter, I’m not sure the elite guy even broke a sweat leading me.  A reminder that even community college would indeed prove far more daunting than high school.

But I would be part of it now.

Those next several weeks introduced me to a remarkable new world. I got to know those other runners, becoming teammates and friends with former rivals.  I also met athletes from other sports, many like me, delving for the first time into college.  By the time classes commenced a few weeks later, I already knew a number of people at the school, including several of my professors.

I've no idea how my life would have turned out had I not decided to go out on that early morning run in July.  But when I think of the directions running has taken me since then, the people I’ve met and relationships forged, I can't imagine a better future.  I also know that without the stubborn determination to push ahead with my training, I’d have never found have similar reserves of fortitude that guided me through future challenges.

That 1979 season of cross country at UCC was also a memorable one - a story to be shared another day. 

Something tells me that I'm not alone in this. I suspect many of us have similar experiences. You are welcome to share them below or on Facebook.

The Winchester Bridge - a narrow pathway we rarely ran, but when we did, it was always a quick pace for fear that there wouldn't be room for us, another car and a log truck!