Cross-Country Running

They call it "shagging out," or "The Shag." It happens mostly in high school cross-country just before the start of races and (as near as I can determine) mostly in northwestern Indiana, where I live. The Shag is practiced at meets like the New Prairie Invitational, which each September attracts approximately 2,000 competitors from 90 different schools. New Prairie offers eight separate races, all of which begin with runners shagging out. As a result, The Shag exists as a ritual, a ceremonial opening statement, a taste of more to come. It's like at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway several hours south, where they say, "Gentlemen, start your engines," after singing, "Back Home in Indiana." When I was coaching cross-country for the local high school a decade ago, I used to love being part of The Shag. I still enjoy watching it.

Here's how it works: A few minutes before the start of each race, the runners stand nervously on line in pre-assigned boxes, awaiting instructions. The starter, starting pistol in one hand, stands atop a ladder glaring down at them. Their coaches hover anywhere from 50-to-100 meters before the line. Several hundred meters further away, spectators wait cordoned behind ropes for The Shag to signal that the race is about to begin.
"Shag out!" the starter finally commands.

The young runners sprint to their coaches, forming circles for final instructions and a school cheer. "Go Devils!" "Gettum Trojans!" "Rah! Rah! Rah!" Then, pulse rates properly raised, they jog purposefully back to realign themselves in their assigned boxes. Within a minute, they are off and running: 4,000 meters for girls, 5,000 for boys.

Cross-country usually is not considered a spectator sport. While track meets and marathons at least attract token coverage, cross-country rarely gets seen on TV. Yet events such as the New Prairie Invitational (like age-group soccer games) often attract respectably large crowds. Figure out the numbers: 2,000 competitors times two parents plus siblings, friends and a few fans of the sport, people like me who love the sight of runners in brightly-colored uniforms darting in and out of trees resplendent in their autumn hue. Arrive late at New Prairie, and you have to scramble to find a parking place. Doug Snyder, head coach at the high school, estimates that 5,000 attend the Invitational each September with another 9,000 attending state-qualifying meets on the same course later in the season.

"The Invitational has one of the best fields in the state," explains Snyder, "and that does attract the dedicated fans, many of them recreational runners. In basketball, fans are stuck in the bleachers, but cross-country provides the same energy level as a World Federation wrestling match. The spectators run back and forth to different viewing points. When the leaves are changing, where would you rather be on a sunny Saturday morning?"

"Cross-country on the high school level probably peaked in numbers around 1980," claims Marc Bloom, editor of The Harrier, a newsy publication that focuses on cross-country. "The sport got a spurt when girl teams were added. It's one of the few school sports where girls and boys train together, often under the same coach."

UPS AND DOWNS

The sport has had its ups and downs lately, both literally and figuratively. Consolidation of schools caused some drop in numbers on the high school level. Soccer programs, many of them also held in the fall, attracted students that might previously have become "harriers" ( a nickname for those who run cross-country). According to the National High School Federation, 181,915 boys and 155,529 girls participated on cross-country teams during the 1999 season.

On the college level, athletic directors, more interested in minting money from football and basketball teams than providing athletic opportunities for students, have forced coaches to limit the size of teams. But age-group cross-country is thriving. Many runner-parents want to direct their children toward an activity healthier than sitting in front of a computer or hanging out at the mall.

Yet relatively few of the runners who recently have made 5K races and marathons so popular seek the opportunity of racing through the woods, or even training off road. That too may change, as increasing numbers of RRCA clubs offer cross-country as an attractive alternative to their usual steady diet of road races.
The Jacksonville Track Club recently reinstated a popular cross-country race (The Ravines Run) that had been canceled when the golf course on which it was held changed owners. After the ownership changed a second time, the new owners actually called the club and asked them to resume the race for its publicity value.

"We obviously didn't want to run the race with golfers on the course," says race director Bob Fernee. "We finally chose 7:00 p.m. on a Friday night in May. There was still ample daylight, and it gave runners time to get there from work. We ran on the front-nine, which by then was empty, doing two laps to get five miles. Actually, the course was probably a quarter-mile short. Offer a course 10 yards short in a road race, and the complaints would be many and loud. In cross country, nobody cares because relative times mean nothing."

The race attracted 165 runners, far from the 10,000 that participate in the Gate River Run, Jacksonville's major road race, but cross-country frightens many away because courses often are perceived as being too challenging for recreational runners. Admittedly, the sport offers more an Epicurean meal than fast food. At one point in The Ravines Run, runners had to duck through a hole in a hedge less than five feet high and run stooped over for several strides. "Jacksonville is known for flatness," says Track Club president Doug Tillett, "but we found a few mounds and gullies to add to the challenge."

The New York City Road Runners Club offers not one, but an entire series of cross-country races, running from September through November in historic Van Cortland Park, site of the fabled ICAAAA Championships, an important collegiate race. The course features a climb up Cemetery Hill guaranteed to test the quads of even the best trained, then a descent over a rocky path where a misstep can result in a painful fall. I speak from experience having tripped one year when the (then) National AAU Championships were held in Van Cortland. I had just moved into the top 10 in the last mile when my spikes caught on a rock. I was back around 50th place by the time I picked myself up off the ground. Despite this being a painful competitive comeuppance for me, I look back on my fall with nostalgia.

The New York City RRC's cross-country meets attract everyone from youngsters to master runners with several thousand participating during the season. The club also sponsored the World Cross-Country Championships at Van Cortland Park in 1984.

"We sponsor cross-country races because it's good for the sport," says New York RRC executive director Allan Steinfeld. Despite being a sprinter, Steinfeld ran cross-country while attending City College of New York. Like most East Coast collegiate runners, he considers Van Cortland Park hallowed ground, like the route from Marathon to Athens. "My only regret is that many runners who compete on the roads never discover the beauty of running through the woods. It's a shame."

INCREASING THE DIFFICULTY

Fear of the unknown and fear of injury still keeps recreational runners from running cross-country, either in races or in training. Granted, for those who train only on smooth and flat pavement, the uneven and hilly courses found on many cross-country races do pose some risk. Not all races are held on smooth golf course fairways. Organizers, who often participated on cross-country teams in high school or college, diabolically often put extra effort into increasing the degree of difficulty.

The New Orleans Track Club's Great Spillway Classic Trail Run bills itself (with 1,000 participants) as the "largest trail run in the South." The course description on its entry blank is not for the faint-hearted: "A scenic (and FUN) 3-mile cross-country course. The race begins at Spillway Boat Launch Pavilion and continues atop the Levee for about 1 1/4 miles. That's the easy part, then the course downs the levee into the Spillway. Along the way, one (encounters) hard sandy surface, watery troughs, plenty of hairpin turns, mud, green slippery slime, perhaps a log jump or bypass and heavy forest canopy."

Understandably, many recreational runners opt to pass when faced with such a challenge, which is unfortunate because cross-country offers many scenic options for those not afraid to muddy their shoes. The least-trod trail often is the prettiest trail, providing scenic venues that less adventuresome athletes never see. Perhaps more important, moving your training from hard pavement to soft trails can help you avoid injuries and increase your speed so that when you do run those more popular marathons and 5K races, you can improve your performance.

The sport of cross-country is not for everybody, but perhaps it should be.

Hal Higdon, one of the RRCA founders, is a Contributing Editor to Runner's World and the author of 34 books. For training schedules and to ask Hal questions, visit his website: halhigdon.com