Selfishness

I was thinking on the run this morning. I do that on occassion. It's how I role.

What I was thinking about midway through the run -- and consequently mid way through the series of hills we were taking on -- was how easy it would be to give in to the discomfort and pain. How very simple it would be to just slow down and make it all go away...

By mile 5, most of the runners I could see were singletons, the groupings that formed early had evaporated like fog in sun. Hills have a way of doing that.

So there in mid-hill, alone, I'm sure the temptation to slow down and take an easier pace to the peak must have tempted some of you. Right?

Well my next thought went to the team, and it dawned on me that in a team sport like ours, every mile run well, helps the team. Every mile run too slowly hurts the team. It's easy in the midst of a workout where you might be splintered from a group to get selfish and think only of how much you hurt, how much "faster" everyone else is and order up some cupcakes with extra frosting for the little pity party you're holding in your mind.

"Cross country is an individual sport" say the uneducated. Far from it, yet in the midst of training (and suffering) we can convince ourselves that the pathetic pace we're holding, or the bail we just took on the longer route, will only affect ourselves.

It will ... but it will also affect your team.

How? Because your failure to improve makes us less competitive. Because your cutting a workout short may "convince" someone else to go with you. Now we're two people down. On the reverse, when you run hard, you inspire others to do so as well. We get better as you get better.

Selfishness. It's tempting, it's even celebrated in our culture. It's also the worst thing for a team.

As the days stretch out into weeks, I challenge you to conquer your selfishness.

Butterflies

Well on Monday, we'll be at another starting line. This line represents the beginning of our 12th season as King Cross Country.

I've got a few butterflies. I'll be real.

But are butteflies bad? I've had an athlete or two over the years mention to me before a race that they've got butterflies. They say it like they're confessing sin.

While butterflies can create anxiety and upset your stomach and can even rob you of a good race on occassion, they really aren't anything to be ashamed of. They represent something. Something good.

Butterlfies say you care. They say you want -- really want -- a good outcome to what's lying ahead. They say you recognize the drama of sport. They say you want to do your best and can't stomach the thought of doing less than that.

So I'll admit, as I look at the starting line of next Monday morning, I've got a few butterflies fluttering.

I want this season to be better than last ... which is asking a lot.
I want improvement to happen ... in me.
I want to find out how we'll do in league and in CIF ... always tough challenges.
I want us -- you runners and we coaches -- to do our best ... all season long.

So bring the starting line, butterflies and all! Let's get it going!