The Beloved Community

"Life's most persistent and urgent question is: What are you doing for others?"

Martin Luther King Jr's words were never hollow. He walked his talk. He put his life behind his preaching.

With those words of Dr. King, this week we will culminate what has been a wonderful season. We attempted to do some big things, and with your help, your great attitudes, your financial investment, we have been able to accomplish them.

Our theme this season was "Competition and Community". As I wrote in a newsletter a couple months ago, the two at face value seem mutually exclusive ... opposites. If they are, that's fine, but like so many things in life, opposites can sometimes attract and complement each other.

With this paradoxical theme as a guide, we tried to bring the teaching and legacy of Martin Luther King, JR to bear on our season. We talked often about the things he said and did, the way he lived his life, the way he changed our country. We had the huge privilege of traveling to a part of America where he lived and worked and affected lives. To walk on the sidewalks and in the parks where he took on the system of racial injustice with little more than "soul force" was incredibly moving. It was a powerful experience for all of us, one that we won't ever forget.

King's goal of creating a "Beloved Community" was his purpose. That concept was based on an ancient greek word for love, called "agape." Agape love, King explained was “overflowing love which is purely spontaneous, unmotivated, groundless and creative”… "the love of God operating in the human heart.” He said that “Agape does not begin by discriminating between worthy and unworthy people…It begins by loving others for their sakes” and “makes no distinction between a friend and enemy; it is directed toward both…Agape is love seeking to preserve and create community.” http://www.thekingcenter.org/prog/bc/

This Saturday we will have an opportunity to "show love for others for their sakes" to help create a "beloved community" in a simply act of love for other people, people we have never met. Our run-a-thon will raise money to help an organization dig drinking water wells for folks in Africa that can't afford to do it on their own. We're calling it our "Digging Deep" project, we're calling on each of us to "dig deep" into our own reservoirs of conscience and ability to do what we can to help. Saturday morning we will also be collecting used running shoes to donate to the homeless of Riverside.

I encourage each of you to do your part.

An Angel In The Park

Kelly Ingram Park is in the heart of downtown Birmingham and was ground zero for the Civil Rights clashes of 1963. A small square block in size, it’s a quiet place today, sitting amid skyscrapers and office buildings. Trees, young and old, poke through the grass, green and brown. The park is not in great shape, its tattered edges speak of a long history torn and stitched by alternating times of neglect and care. Kitty-corner from the park stands the majestic 16th Street Baptist church, clad in brown brick. A couple-dozen concrete steps lead up to it’s front doors.



When we got out of the vans, church bells echoed off the walls of buildings. It was Sunday morning after all. The streets were silent, few cars and even fewer people could be seen. Birmingham was sleeping.

We purposed a visit to Kelley Ingram to finish out our tour of Alabama’s civil rights landmarks. It was in this park and specifically at the Baptist church on the corner that all was not quiet in September, 1963. This was the flashpoint of a clash that echoed even in the silence of this morning.

Perhaps the same church bells were ringing 45 years ago when the bomb blast cancelled them out. Three men of the KKK threw a stick of dynamite at the corner of the 16th Street Baptist church, killing four girls in their Sunday best, getting ready for Sunday school. The clock froze at 10:22 AM, the face of Jesus was blasted out of a stained glass window. Birds scattered in fright. Sirens wailed. People screamed. Mothers cried. It was noisy that day.

But not today. Today was quiet. The church has long since been repaired. Christians began climbing the steps for worship. Across the street, we walked through the shaded lanes of Kelley Ingram, pausing at the bronze memorials scattered throughout, each one erected to tell a muzzled story of an ugly time.



We were ready to leave, having seen all that we could see when a man on a bicycle approached us. He said his name was Juan. He was a veteran of Vietnam, homeless too -- a personal consequence, he told us, for abandoning King’s dream and listening to the victim theology of Malcolm X. He said he had been at Kelley Ingram back in ’63. He was sixteen then.

With an understated eloquence and a mastery of the details only one who had been there could relate, Juan proceeded to tell his story. With the church on one side and the historic park behind him, this unexpected visitor told of the horror that took place there during May of ’63 when Bull Connor’s fire department trained their hoses on demonstrators, “spraying folks off their feet and off the sidewalk, like leaves down a driveway.” He spoke of German shepherds, being told by the cops to attack the kids. There was pride in his voice when he gave the number of kids arrested that day, (600) and how they overflowed the city and county jails like rivers of injustice. His voice lifted when he described “jumping out of the school house windows across town on word that Dr. King was in town.”

Many of those who were battered there in Kelly Ingram were kids. 14 year olds. Like the 14 year old freshmen athletes from King High who listened to his tales with intention and attention beneath the shade of a tree. Juan’s weathered voice didn’t carry well despite the calm of the city; kids and parents leaned forward on his words.

“I thought you were joking when y’ll said you were from Martin Luther King High School. I looked at this group of kids and thought … hmmm, they’re from a school called Martin Luther King…?” We got a good laugh. Mr. Brooks stated the obvious, “Our country has come a long way.” Indeed it has.

We got Juan’s name on a handshake at the end of his talk. We hadn’t planned this … this collision of time and place at the intersection of Love and hate in Birmingham. Juan was like an angel sent to make the past immediately personal and present in our weekend story of struggle and triumph told mainly by those who had only heard of those times. Juan had lived it. He was there then, and he was there today. Arriving on his bicycle, 20 minutes later he had pedaled away, lost in the shadows of the trees and buildings that cover the bronze memorials that stand quietly telling a story that an angel named Juan has not forgotten.

I have to believe, neither will we.

Remember the Children

If you're an early riser and reading this, I'll post just a bit on what's on the agenda for today.

After a fun night last night at the Harrier Ball, we got back to the hotel a little past 11:00 PM, and everyone crashed. A chance to sleep in this morning was a welcome respite from the hurried pace we've been keeping. Yesterday was a fun day, but it was long.

So today we'll leave around 10:30 and take the short drive to downtown Birmingham for a visit to the 16th Street Baptist Church, which was the site in September 1963 of a horrific KKK bombing of the building on a Sunday morning. Four little girls, three of whom shared the age of our freshmen on the trip, were killed in the blast.

Across the street from the church is Kelly Ingram Park. It was in this park that Bull Conner, the racist "Public Safety Commissioner" brought out the German Shepperds, the fire department with their hoses, the police with their billy clubs and gave orders to clear the park in any way possible. He arrested over 600 children in May of 1963, many of them teens, as King's strategy was to fill the jails with blacks who didn't have jobs to hold and mortgages to pay. The park now has a series of bronze statues placed throughout the park to commemorate those ugly times.

Following lunch, we'll make a stop at the Birmingham Civil Rights Institute, which from everything we've read and heard is an incredible place.

Then it's to the airport, and off for home.

A Great American Meet

We last ran in a Great American Cross Country Festival back in 2000 when they had a traveling road show and moved their East Coast venue to San Francisco's Golden Gate Park for one season. We liked what we experienced then, and treasured the memories.

Today we opened up that treasure chest and dumped a new set of golden moments and memories, as the Festival once again pulled out all the stops to host what is just simply, a great meet.

King's Kids ran well ... it wasn't our best day, but we had enough good races and quality efforts to call it a good day. The weather warmed a bit by mid-day, making the JV races a bit warmer than the varsity races were in mid-morning. The girls varsity finished 8th of 16 teams in the Nike Race of Champions, against a field that was being called "the finest field assembled in the nation this season." When the winner crossed the line in a time of 17:06 for a full 5K, beating the reigning Footlocker National Champion by over 200 meters, you knew the proclamation wasn't an exagerration. There were 7 teams in the race that were their respective divisional and State champions. To say the race was "big" would be an udnerstatement.

The JV girls had the highest finish of the day, 2nd, and brought home a plaque made of wood and carved and finished in the shape of the United States -- a very nice award. The JV boys finished 6th overall.

We're off in a couple of hours to the Harrier Ball for dinner and dancing and fun.

"Been to the Mountaintop"

Just before his death in 1968, Martin Luther King preached what would be a prophetic sermon. As he reflected on the years of civil rights movement, he had come to realize that he had "been to the mountaintop" and that he "had seen the promised land." Sadly, prophetically, he then proclaimed that he "may not get there with you..."

One day later he was dead.

We walked today in the places he once walked. We sat in the pews of the church he preached in. We were in the very room in which he called for the formation of a city wide bus boycott in Montgomery, a civil disobedience that would help to change the civic behavior of the nation. We stood for a photo on the front steps of his church, one block from the Alabama State Capitol on whose steps Jefferson Davis took the oath of office as President of the Confederate States of America in 1861.

This was one day of living!

32 kids from a suburban high school in California came face to face with the man whose name is that school. 3000 miles away from the familiarity of Martin Luther King High, we found ourselves introduced to the Martin Luther King of history. Today we found that his was not just a name painted on stucco and printed on letterhead. His was a name that is carved into the conscience of our nation. From the humblest of beginnings, he mustered his courage, gathered himself and took a place on the starting line of what would become one of the greatest races ever contested on American soil. With the sweat of conviction, the heart of compassion, the power of love, and the focus of a warrior, he won the race.

And we were there today, at the starting line. It felt like a mountain top.

What an amazing experience it was! Our cross country kids were ambassadors of a school from across the country ... and they nailed it! Attentive, respectful, inquisitive and responsive, they listened and learned through an amazing multi-media presentation at the Rosa Parks Institute and Museum. From there we loaded the vans and made the short drive to King's church.


Dexter Avenue is only a few blocks away. On the way up the broad avenue, our kids looked out the windows of the van as we passed a large fountain at one end of the street, a marker of where they once auctioned black slaves. Quickly coming into view at the other end is that gleaming capitol building, a marker of secession; it's white dome towers. Bookends of hatred and injustice.

But there in the middle of the two stands a Baptist church, it's skin is colored red, it's name shares it's street address. It seems inconspicuous at first, as most churches seemingly do. It appears humble and non-descript. But as we walked in those doors, we heard the story of a preacher man who roared the gospel of Love, courage, forgiveness, redemption and justice. His was the ultimate tough love story; of good overcoming evil with good. Those worn pews and walls whispered the aged truths of the Bible: "Love your enemy" "do good to those who persecute you" and "turn the other cheek". Like the best book on the shelf, Dexter Baptist stands between black and white, its red-colored cover begging to be opened and read. It stands: Bookends not necessary.


We lingered. We listened. We learned .... we, King High.

Practice Makes Perfect

My dad raised me on the motto: Practice makes perfect. Somewhat of a perfectionist himself, he drilled it into me, even when I didn't want it.

Well, we made our way to the course this morning for a little practice on the art of perfection. Wasn't hard. Perfect weather. Perfectly beautiful region of the country, and a perfect course for a national level cross country meet.

What a place we are in! Hoover, Alabama (just south of Birmingham) is a pristine community, nestled in forested hills, and their "Spain Park Sports Complex" is a state of the art, "how a park should be built" masterpiece. It has all the requisite playgrounds, eating areas, open fields and lakes, but purposefully built into the park, at the Mayor's request we were told, is a running trail that meanders through the park and into the adjacent woods. One full loop of the course is in the forest, parts so shaded that the sky has to work to get through. I jokingly apologized to the kids for bringing them so far from home to run in such a "horrid place." "Yea, coach" one replied, "we'd much rather be in the dirt and tree-less desert we call our home course!" We all had a laugh. This place is just amazingly beautiful -- that is if you're into tall trees, forest, no graffiti, no trash, clean air and two-lane roads noodling their way through the woods.

The weather continues to be perfect, our practice on the course went great, and we sense a true feeling of anticipation on the part of the kids to let the race be on!

Now it's on to Montgomery, about 90 minutes south of here, to visit the Rosa Parks institute and Martin Luther King's home church and parsonage.

Parents, your kids are behaving well and all smiles! Really!

Southern Hospitality

Our principal, Dan Brooks is along on the trip, and his sister happens to live here in Birmingham, has for 25 years, so she was kind enough to take us up to the Bluff Park Diner for dinner. It's really nothing more than a hole in the wall, perched atop a ridge with a pretty decent view of the lights below. Had we not had a friendly dose of Southern Hospitality, it may have been Denny's for us tonight. We got treated to a treat.

The 40-some-odd party from Riverside entered, while the dining patrons read the writing on the wall and exited. Best for all concerned as we filled the entire place.

Good ol' Southern cookin' was the fare, "meat and three" as they call it. Country fried steak, collared greens, green eyed peas, creamed corn, mashed potatoes and gravy, you name it, if it could stick to the lining of your arteries, they served it. But my, was it good! Only Patrick, who has little else than nachos and fritos in his daily diet complained; Carissa and Rebecca and Kelsi and Danielle sang out in unison, "This stuff is good!" By the laughter and empty plates that littered and clanged around the room, it seemed Patrick was greatly outnumbered.

Sweet Home Alabama!

We're here! And oh my, did we hit the jackpot on weather! It feels like Fall! 70 degrees, zero humidity, and just a hint of the fall colors in the trees. Beautiful!

The 3000 mile, 10 hour journey was as smooth as can be. We pulled out of the parking lot at school at 5:01 AM and were at Ontario by 6:00. The plane left on time, and gave us a smooth flight, save for the landing in Atlanta in which the descent brought some bumps and jumps and nervous oohs and ahs out of the teen section in the back of the 757. Clear skies, great weather, a quick layover and off to the forested Birmingham area. Our initial drive through brings one thought: This place is pretty!

We just got back from a run along a bike and runners path that cut through the forest along a creek which followed a road. Joggers and walkers abounded, and 32 teens and 4 coaches enjoyed a splendid five mile run thru the half-light of dusk, softly filtered through the elms and sycamores. Made one 42 year old coach very thankful to be alive.

It's off to dinner now, a diner on a bluff with "a view of the city" they tell us! Thanks parents for letting your kids be a part of this. One day in and not a frown in town!

Being Busy

I have to confess these past few weeks have been stressful ones. Planning our trip to Alabama, running a home meet, coordinating community service projects have all required a toll. Sometimes I question our sanity as we heap upon our plates more good food than we can possibly eat. Life, liberty and the pursuit of busyness seems to be the new American creed.

But being busy beats being bored. Boredome for me leads to trouble. When I'm bored, I find myself getting into jams as sticky as peanut butter. Busyness, though it can be stressful at times, can - if balanced with other busy pursuits - produce good things.

I'm excited about the closing month of our season. October will bring a long-planned and labored trip to Birmingham, Alabama. We'll race among the best this country has to offer and we'll see the sites that made our school's namesake, Martin Luther King, famous.

At the end of the month, we'll be busy collecting used shoes and money for the homeless in Riverside and the thirsty in Africa.

All good things. All things that take time and work to pull off. Are you busy doing good? Are you busy pursuing noble goals and achievements? I hope so. It's the only busy worth being.

I'd write more, but I've got things to do!

Mileage Matters and Other Stuff

Got to brag on a few folks yesterday, which is always fun for a coach. For the last several years, we've been preaching the gospel of "mileage". Put simply, miles matter. In distance running, if you want to improve and succeed, the route to that destination is long and it's measured in miles, not feet. Likewise, we've encouraged our athletes to keep track of their miles, it's a great tool in the runner's tool bag; it builds confidence on race day when you know how much you've done in preparation for the Big Day.

Well, yesterday we honored with a free pass to Juice It Up the top three boys and top three girls who've steadily logged their miles on http://www.running2win.com/ since Memorial Day. Ethan Park, Nick Hernandez, and Derek Nelson have each gone past 500 miles, while Jenna Kordic, Rebecca Asplund and Stacy Yarbrough have been the mileage leaders for the girls. Great job people! Enjoy your smoothies!

And finally, our Sponsorship Contest was concluded recently and we had four guys end up on top. Ethan Park and Zaid Yousef each collected five sponsors, earning $100 each to the Tyler Mall. Charlie Alvarez and Rafi Perez snagged four each, and their reward will be presented and announced on Monday!

WELCOME TO ADVERSE CITY!

Hell has officially not frozen over. This week proved that. With school starting, temperatures hovering at 105 and above and then monsoonal humidity -- goodness. This one was a tough one.
But you know, tough weeks are part of life. They sneek in usually when things are on cruise control, like a culdesac on the boulevard. Just when you got things nailed down, a hurricane of adversity comes in and rips up the plywood over your windows.

Running can be like this week. You're cruising along and then -- WHAM -- a tough mile jumps on your back like a monkey. Or you think you've got the race won and then -- WHAM -- some dude in black jersey goes by you.

It's tough, but adversity is part of life. The sooner we can accept this notion, the more equipped we are to handle it when it jumps from the shadows with a big "Boo!" It's kindof like Knotts Scary Farm -- why everyone gets the creeps when they know the goolies are gonna jump out at them (that's why they paid money to get in the park) is beyond me.

So let's not get freaked out over a week that didn't go well. The streets of Adverse City are not paved with gold, but there are roads out of town.

Let's hit the road!

Fries, Tumors and Grace

I drove out to UCLA Medical Center on Saturday to visit Patrick in the hospital. It wasn't what I was expecting. Thinking bed pans and tubes in unnatural places, instead my family and I sat in the hospital's cafe along with Pat, his mom, and Charlie's family. The smell of burgers and fries covered the place. Interns and MD's chowed down on food not meant to keep people healthy. It wasn't your typical hospital visit.

I'd imagine Patrick wasn't your typical brain surgery patient however. Cracking jokes and talking about leaving that place, he didn't meet my expecations of a hospital patient, just had my brain operated on kid. True, I've never known anyone who has had their brain operated on, I'll admit, Pat's my first experience, but if Pat's the average let's-take-something-out-'o-your-brain-kind-of-patient, it doesn't look that bad, actually!

In reality it just proves something I've just always thought: Pat's a tough kid. His uncanny ability to race and race hard was evident early on. I have to assume that beyond the grace of God, he's come through this surgery with the same speed he covers a race course. His tenacity has won the day.

We will be patient in the healing process, knowing that one doesn't operate on one's brain lightly. However, as I sat there conversing with a 16 year old just days separated from his brain tumor and smelling lunch and seeing life and listening to his commentary about the fate of our beloved Dodgers' season, I could only conclude this: Remarkable!

Welcome back, Patrick.

Nuf Said

50-some miles run. Lots of team bonding. Stronger team than when we left. A great group of 29 kids over 7 days. Home. 'Nuf said.

Just Desserts

Last night was fun. Each condo was challenged to make their own dessert, with a contest for best taste and best presentation as decided by our judges, the coaches of Chino Hills XC, our condo neighbors and good friends in the sport.

We've staged the contest in past years, but this year took the cake, or so to speak. All four condos put together truly tasteful and creative offerings. Despite the smell of smoke coming from one condo and several hours on the phone with a mom in Riverside by another condo crew, the outcome was stunning and a difficult choice for our seasoned judges.

The winner was from Condo 26, who put together a mockup of Deadman's Pass. (DMP is one of the more challenging runs of the week, yet was wiped out this year due to smoke from a distant brush fire so the dessert creation was as close as we came.) The concoction was complete with candy trees and gummy bears prowling the Snickers trail. My personal favorite was "Mammoth Dirt" - a delicious creation of chocolate ice cream inside an actual flower pot, covered by crushed chocolate sandwich cookies, completed with gummy worms working their way out of the "soil" and an actual daisy flower centered in the middle!

A fun, hilarious night of judging, brown-nosing the judges and good natured smack-talking among the competitors left us with the greatest icing on the cake: we got to eat what we made!

Sean Lee trying to convince the judge that "presentation" doesn't matter. Taste is everything!

Mammoth Dirt

Going The Distance

Long runs are the staple of any competitive distance runner. They are bread and butter, the cornerstone, the groundwork needed for success. "Big Smokey" - a 11.8 and 9.8 mile long run over hill and dale has long been a key workout of our Mammoth camp.

Under cool skies this morning, our kids truly went the distance. For the first time in King XC's 8 years of running Big Smokey, this was the first time we had every runner finish the course, not one "DNF" in the bunch.

The course is a test of mind and body. Rarely does it go flat, only in the last 1.5 miles does the terrain act nicely, but then that stretch turns into a mental war, as the waiting vans look tantalizingly close yet are still so far away. Up the hills and down and across the lonely stretches on the backside of the mountain, the runner is challenged to stay focused, to think of strength and perseverence, to press on.

Reds Meadow

After a day greyed over by smoke blown in from a Santa Barbara brush fire, this day dawned much clearer and bluer, allowing us to get back to our training and on to one of our favorite runs -- the Reds Meadow trail. It was a welcome run after waiting for the smoke to clear yesterday and losing much of our planned workload.

I've personally traversed this trail some 15 times over the years, and the creek hopping, vista viewing, tree dodging jaunt through the woods never ceases to amaze me. It's a relatively easy six miles atop soft, single-track trail over Mammoth Pass and down the hillside into Reds Meadow. But the expanse of the Minaret Range off to the west is literally breathtaking. The woods are quiet except for the chatter of athletes, the symphony of sound breezing through the pine, and the occassional clatter of falling water.

Tradition has called for a wonderful breakfast at the Reds Meadow Cafe, so we again enjoyed all the fixins of a great breakfast, shadowed and cooled by towering Lodgepoles and Ponderosa pines.

A hike down to rainbow falls followed, again it was fun to watch the kids take a cold wade and try to be heard above the din of the falls. Though the water was lower than in past summers, the sight was breathtaking.

The Pyramid of Success

Last night after dinner, Coach Clendenen gave a great talk on one-half of our theme for the week, "competitivenss". She's had the privilege of experiencing high-level sports as both an athlete (she was on scholarship at Cal Poly SanLuis Obispo for swimming), was raised in an athletic home (her dad was the UCR basketball coach for 30 years) and is now married to a caddy on the PGA tour. Her experiences are vast, and she's witnessed some of the best sports has to offer.

What was great about her talk though was really the talking the athletes did. A great group discussion unfolded as groups of guys and gals broke up to talk about the strengths and weaknesses we have in the competitive arena. It was awesome seeing the likes of Charlie, Ethan, Patrick, Larissa, and Carissa leading the discussion, coaxing from their teammates pearls of insight and wisdom and peeling back in moments of candid honesty the veil of weakness. Powerful stuff!

Tieing it all together was Coach John Wooden's famous and well-used "Pyramid of Success." The top of that pyramid is "Competitive Greatness", something hopefully all athletes and teams aspire to. Below it are the building blocks that get athletes to the pinnacle, or as the case might be, the "stumbling blocks" that keep teams and athletes from ever achieving their greatest potential. Wooden's Pyramid is a powerful tool for helping any success-minded group get to their goals. We're promising ourselves to really work toward that this season. As was mentioned in the talk, as coaches, we feel the foundational level of the pyramid has been firmly and successfully laid in place already, good news as we continue to climb upward.

We'll continue to build on that groundwork of "Industriousness, Friendship, Loyalty, Cooperation, and enthusiasm" - all of which we're witnessing in spades this week - to hopefully bring our teams to the peak of competitive greatness by November. That's our goal, onward we climb!

Not Your Average Teenagers

It's pretty remarkable actually when you stop to think about what teens can do when motivated and properly channeled. Seems like sometimes that the stereotypical teen -- you know, the monosyllabic grunting sleeping in wanna-be -- is cast to describe ALL teens. But it ain't true. Hang with some cross country runners you'll be inspired -- these aren't the stereotype. Hang with this group in Mammoth and you'll really be inspired.

Today our group covered nearly 12 miles in two workouts, spent 30 minutes learning a fairly demanding yoga routine, cooperated to prepare and consume three meals together and all with a "can-do"attitude. I say again, it's remarkable!

Our afternoon jaunt took us up to a bluff overlooking town, far too steep for the first mile if you ask me, but a wonderful challenge rewarded by stunning views of the caldera and Mammoth Mtn. Down thru the woods we meandered, finishing with yoga at the park, then to Mammoth Creek for a cooooold stand in the river to ice down the legs. All told, we were on task with our workout for almost 3 hours. Not a complaint. Not a "are we done yet?" Gamers, all of them.

It's a luxury of Mammoth ... having the time to be able to train right. The time to take care of all parts of the body in a concentrated week. From the mind, to the legs, to stretching and yoga, to the biting cold of icing tired limbs, competitive running is a full-body endeavor and only those who discipline the whole enchilada will find success.

Today, I feel we did that. 29 teenagers. 12 miles. 30 minutes of yoga. 5 minutes in a cold river. Pretty remarkable, indeed.

Ahhhh .... Mammoth!

There's just something about the first run in Mammoth. Maybe it's the long drive getting here, maybe the sense of responsibility I feel to get 40 people up here safely, I'm not sure, but whatever it is the traditional first run is always a joy. The Mammoth Rock run.

Can a run be a joy? It seems that here, despite the searing lungs that come from thin air and the occasional boulder that tries to take you down, the simple act of running through the woods, in clean air and 77-degree weather is a joyous experience. It jogs the mind to wrap itself around different vistas, different thoughts. Thoughts of gratitude come easily in places and moments like today.

I'm reminded to be thankful, thankful for health and vitality; and for mobility.

A soak in Mammoth Creek after the run rejuvenated the legs and brought forth laughter and silly songs from the girls. A bubbling team, a bubbling stream .... ahhh, Mammoth. There's just something about it!

The Comeback Kids

Giving up is easy. Pressing on is hard. Successful people aren't successful necessarily because they are talented, they're successful mainly because they don't give up easily. They get pressing on. It's in their blood.

We got to brag on three kids today who pressed on recently through adversity; Chris, Larissa and Brandi. When faced with the obstacle of academic ineligibility this past grading period, they were faced with a choice: Give up or go on.

They chose wisely. Working to improve their grades and their running, the three have come back from an academic brink that has led many-a-teen to athletic suicide and are now not only eligible but they are running better than they ever have and looking like varsity athletes.

Is that cool or what??

May we all do likewise when faced with the same or similar hurdles. We all have a choice: Give up or go on. It's the fine line between success and failure, accomplishment and mediocrity, winning and losing.

We celebrated three winners today.

Long Running Sophomores

Ran a long run today with the lead boys of the team. Haven't run over 7.5 miles in some time, but I enjoyed the chance to push outward again, it's so easy to stay in the Easy Rut, kickin' it and cruising everyday.

Craig Aguilar really impressed me today ... here's a sophomore, missed all of last summer but joined XC anyway, ran sprints (or was it hurdles?) in track and has now just been coming on with the distance stuff. We ran together for awhile, I probably talked too much, but he closed a 100-meter gap between himself and the leaders from about mile six to the finish. Good stuff.

Our sophomore class is a fun group -- young, eager, room to grow, and off to a great start. It's gonna be fun to watch what comes of this group. If this group -- of both boys and girls -- sticks with it for another couple of years, they could end up being something truly special.