Back to the Front
by
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“Run, just run, it’s so damn simple.”
Dance to the music of life, stop thinking, tap your feet to the robustness of your soul, be raw, be savage, pulse with confidence and roar as you run down your prey. Leave the remains of the vanquished to the Vultures that are flying high overhead or sitting on fence posts in the cornfield eager to begin their carnage. Run, fly on with the serenade of the wind blowing through your hair and into your ears as your nostrils flare and the brittle leaves send forth their crisp chorus that amplifies your quick, steady steps across the earthen paths.
Slack-jawed and squinty eyed, the arm levers drive in short but rapid thrusts as the hands relax and the breathing provides accompaniment as you, the wolf, advance from tree to post into the open field toward the crowd, the cheers, the words of the announcer, the chute, and soon, very soon, rest and relief—the job having been done to perfection, not for you, but for the team. Run until the beast in you has been tamed. Run until you’re once again ordinary and able to co-exist with those humans from a lesser God.
Hannah wasn't buying any of this.
Squatting down in front of the white chalked starting line that was hiding beneath long grass on the JV practice gridiron, Hannah was clawing at the ground like an ancient ancestor foraging for roots. Clutching clumps of long grass in each hand, she twisted and yanked it out of the ground over and over while mumbling to herself.
“She’s so afraid to disappoint you,” said Julie.
I pulled Hannah aside earlier and told her that the race against arch rival JE was already over. No competition. “Hannah, this is no big deal today. I can’t tell you anything but we’re fine, okay? I know things I can’t tell you. It’s our secret.” I was lying but her dad told me that she’s become immobilized by pressure. We need to give her an out.
My lie hadn’t stemmed the tide of fear that was welling up inside her. I tried again. “It’s all individual today Hannah. No team
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About the Book
This story is raw. It’s real. It alternately bleeds death, exposes the rise of unbearable doubt and offers hope to good kids who dared to believe in themselves and the team. The teens, some who were sage veterans and others who were rookies, tried to defy the pop-culture norms, embraced hard work and readily accepted sacrifice to become the Skaneateles cross country team. And that 2006 squad had something to prove. An insider’s story like this has never been told. Interspersed is the somber letter from the state penitentiary, e-mails from an Athens Olympian and heart-wrenching e-mails to the coach that drip with grief and bravado on lonely nights when dreams can seem to either fade-away and die or grow more real as belief becomes bolder and wins are guaranteed under the cover of darkness. This is New York State Cross Country—and it doesn’t get any better. Nothing has been left out. One was imprisoned for killing a childhood friend. Two others faced arrest in an incident involving alcohol that jeopardized the girls’ 14-year unbeaten streak. One poetic soul was senselessly eliminated from the human gene pool. Another was a wiry-haired and ever-smiling national champion, Olympian and high school superstar intent on breaking the 4-minute mile. His story is told here for the first time. What happened during the 2006 Skaneateles Cross Country season is revealed intimately and starkly in jaw-dropping detail. Excited to have their story told, the kids were all anxious about being caught naked in such a personal and public way. The legends who paved the way had state and section titles galore and it was from that long shadow that the 2006 team sought to escape as they vowed to write their own chapter. Don’t be too judgmental. With luck, this could be you.
About the Author
“Our goal is to make sure that the championship has to go through us.” For the better part of his storied career, the retired history teacher did just that. From inauspicious beginnings, the Skaneateles girls won four state titles and earned regional ranking by Marc Bloom in the Bible of XC, “The Harrier”. The boys were named co-champions in 1994 behind Olympian Jonathon Riley. Coaching his two sons, Coach Reed came to understand the delicate balance between academics, athletics, and the need for sleep. “Follow the rut,” he preached, meaning, follow the footsteps of predecessors who cleared their plate of extraneous activities and made it to the NY State Championship. Reed was all about fun but he didn’t mind if disappointment set up residence in a kid’s home for a few days. “Every time I watch a race,” says the coach of 67-straight seasons, “I’m humbled and uplifted by the human spirit I see from these gutsy kids. This generation has game.”
“Jack Reed created a dynasty of excellence while at Skaneateles and remains one of the premier coaches to emerge from
Bill Aris
Head Coach,
NIKE champs '08, '07, '06