October 18, 1979 (Thursday)

Chapter One: Pre-race

From running log:
Cross country RACE. 1979 SCC cross country championship on Tomah Hiawatha golf course. 1 mile warmup, 3 mile race. 0.1 cooldown. Slight breeze, a bit humid, 65F ... (to be continued)

30 years later:
I think you can imagine how hard it was to concentrate on classroom instruction on this day 30 years ago. The entire cross country season was about to come down to the race we had made our goal. What did we care about quadratic equations or the geopolitics of the Cold War? Huh?

We dressed quickly and got onto the yellow bus to drive us up the interstate highway to Tomah. We were, as usual, a bit of a motley crew in our mis-matched gray sweatsuits and various Baraboo-themed warmup jackets. Having seen the course recently, all we needed to do was warmup, stretch, and get to that starting line ready to rock.

By tradition, the boy’s team sat in the back of the bus, the girl’s team in the front. When we parked in Tomah, the girls all piled off, but the boys stayed behind for just a minute. That minute would be Coach Briscoe’s defining moment.

Coach Briscoe was a nice guy. He wasn’t really a runner, and his coaching was (for all practical purposes) something more akin to babysitting. He was there, we did the work, he made sure everyone was accounted for. I’m sure he wasn’t much more than 5 years older than most of us. But he definitely enjoyed that season, and always had a ready smile and a look of pleasant surprise about him. All of this only added to our success.

On that bus, we were eager, intense, and nervous … probably a little too nervous. We had put a lot of pressure on ourselves, and now it was time to perform. As a coach, what do you do with that situation? Coach Briscoe made his decision. I don’t know how long he’d planned his speech, or even if he did. But it was brilliant in its simplicity, honesty, humor, and connection with popular culture.

All he did: gesturing along with his words, he stated, “Well, I don’t have a can of Schlitz beer here, but if I did I would pop it open and say ‘go for the gusto’!” We broke into roars of laughter, he smiled and walked off the bus. It was a familiar and somewhat silly ad campaign that we’d all been subjected to countless times on television. Meaningless, irreverent, and perfectly-timed. Nicely played coach.

We piled off the bus charged with emotion but with a smile which helped us relax and focus. A bit of jogging and stretching, and we headed to the open field and the starting line.

Chapter Two: The Race

From running log:
... I hit the halfway point in 7:37, then gave it all I had ... (to be continued)

30 years later:
The starting line was a crowded mass of teenage boys, forming a sort of multi-colored swash of wiggling humanity across the green grassy field. Alternatively hopping in place, stretching, or dashing out and back to stay warmed up, we were counting down the seconds to the gun. Looking left and right, I saw all of the familiar faces, each concentrating in their own way. It was an intense moment.

At the crack of the gun, we were off. Just over my left shoulder, I heard Chris Kelly grunt out something like "for Charlie!", but for me it was already Jim Boehm and myself storming to the front. This photo was taken perhaps 15 seconds into the race:

You may need to click on it to enlarge, but you will see that Jim Boehm and I have already bolted to the front, and looking right behind us you see my teammates Chris Kelly, Todd Crary, and Moose McGann have jumped out fast too, inching ahead of Mike Bennett and his teammate Terry Murphy. Right behind them you can see Ben, Nellie, and Ken who have also leapt out of the gate. Think we were a little fired up?

I ran the first lap hard but under control. As was my style in the conference, I ran from the front and forced everyone else to try to match my pace. The Tomah course was a firm surface with short grass, no mud or puddles or steep hills. I felt strong and in control. As we ran up the hill right before the finish area (end of lap one), I surged slightly, and only Boehm and Bennett could hang on. We were 1.5 miles into the race, and we had run 5:05 per mile pace. Here is a photo of the leaders as we ran by:

I have the lead, with Boehm as always right on my shoulder. Mike Bennett is hanging on, but you can see by his downward gaze that he already suspects that he won't be able to keep up with our pace. Chasing behind is (in order) Jim Angus from Reedsburg, another runner who had come on strong near season's end; then his teammate Matt Klecker; followed by Terry Connors of Wisconsin Dells; and Baraboo's Moose McGann. Like most runners, I never once looked back to see what was going on behind me, but if I had done so this would have looked exactly as I expected, except perhaps for the strong showing by Angus. The race was half-over, and it was time to determine who was going to win and who was going to crack.

The second lap became a bit of a war of attrition. As Boehm and I continued to apply pressure in our standard one-two "punch", some of those behind began to fade. To his credit, Angus kept running hard and got past Bennett, who had begun to fall victim to his too-strong early pace. Harry Haslanger had advised me to stay behind Bennett for the sake of the team; instead, I had run him into the ground for the sake of the team. He pushed himself gamely, but would end up in 7th place on the day. Another victim of going out too hard for his fitness was my rival Terry Connors, who would also fade on the second lap and end up in 11th place.

I had no idea what was going on behind me. All I wanted was that win, to cross that line first. With about 1000 yards to go, I finally stole one quick glance over my shoulder at Boehm. I learned two things. One, he looked tired, his cheeks were red. Two, there wasn't anyone else within striking distance. As we neared that final hill before the finish, the same one I'd surged on at the end of lap one, I put my chin down and just did it again. It was too much for Boehm, he relented a step, then two, then three ... suddenly I couldn't hear him breathing behind me anymore. I crested the hill and opened up into the fastest kick I could muster.

My lungs were on fire. I wasn't breathing so much as gulping for air, in audible groans. I didn't care. No way was anyone going to pass me now ...

Chapter Three: The Finish

From running log:

... and finished in 15:39 for FIRST PLACE! I'm #1 in the conference, beating Boehm by 8 seconds ... (to be continued)

30 years later:
I did it! All of the hard work, all of the worry, all of the focus, and all of the emotional turmoil of a team without Charlie. This was, for me, vindication + accomplishment + effort + joy. I had imagined this moment over and over again, played it out in my head. I had reminded myself over and over what I wanted to do and how I would do it. I had set my mind on a goal and I had acheived it. I was exultant. But wait, cross country is a *team* sport ... what was going on behind me?

I knew Boehm would be second, and turned to shake his hand while still in the finishing chute. He was a good kid, he congratulated me and said he had given it everything he had. We had both run our best three-mile times ever, and in a sense we had done it together. I'd run 5:13 pace, he'd run 5:16 pace. It was a hearty handshake, we had respect for eachother. I let go of his hand and headed back to the finish line and then up the course a few yards to see what would unfold in the team race. Here they came: Angus in 3rd, nice race. Then Larry Massen, the Adams runner whose teammates had tried to deliver him a race earlier in the year by blocking the course, well done - I never expected that of him. In 5th was Matt Klecker, his ever-present and slightly sideways smile firmly in place. Right on his heels was our own Todd Crary, literally flying down the hill and across the line, nearly running Matt over in the finish chute. Wow! Then Bennett and Murphy from Portage, uh oh. Next came not one, not two, but three runners from Wisconsin Dells: Novy, Gelhaus, and Connors (sandwiched around McGinnis, the runner from Tomah who would not count in the team standings because his school did not field a full team). It looked like the team competition was going to be close. Within the next 16 seconds, it was a torrent of sprinting finishers battling across the line. We managed to get four more guys across the line: McGann, Nelson, Queniahan, and Kelly ... and Portage brought two more and Dells one more. It looked like we had it! The crowning glory for our team was the furious finish of Ken Nikl in 23rd place, out of a field of 42 runners. We'd put our 7th man right behind Portage's fifth man, and ahead of the fifth man from the Dells, not to mention we'd put all 7 of our guys basically in the top half of the field. Outstanding.

Chapter Four: Post-race

From running log:
... The team kicked a$$, finishing 17 points better than Portage. WE ARE THE CHAMPS!!! It was for Charlie, man.
1 Hegley 15:39 (wow!)
6 Crary 16:11 (wow!)
12 McGann 16:28 (wow!)
14 Nelson 16:34 (wow!)
17 Queniahan 16:39 (wow!)
19 Kelly 16:44 (wow!)
23 Nikl 17:01 (wow!)
This is a damn good team, one to remember. Crary ran the race of his life, and Nellie ran really fast. Moose ran so hard he almost passed out at the finish! I set the course record. It feels great, what a job by everyone. BHS might give us a little recognition now, even Schnetz at the BNR. YEOW!!

30 years later:
In the nervous moments at the finish area, you rely on your coaches who have frantically tried to record the places of each finisher ... and both of our coaches had us calculated as the winners. We grabbed cups of hot chocolate and posed for a victory photo, resplendent in our crummy cotton warmups:

First row: Crary, McGann, Hegley, Nellie

Second row: Queniahan, Kelly, Nikl

We were number one!

The top seven runners were named "All Conference" and we posed on the hillside for our photo:

Missing from the photo was Larry Massen, I'm not sure why. I blinked at the flash bulb, oh well ...

As we filed back to the bus for the drive home, arms draped around each other, we basked in the glow of accomplishment, and tasted the bittersweetness of having to do so without Charlie.

I will post a few more related post-race comments next, but to end this lllooonnngggg post I will simply append the results of the race (in wonderful mimeograph!), including the JV race (Baraboo runners had finished 1st and 2nd with McCannon and Toman) and the girls Varsity race (Baraboo won that one too, with Shannon and Dori going one-two individually and leading the team to a hard-fought, close victory over Portage). Stay tuned for more stories and reflections soon.