Glossary of Terms for this story:
“8K” – short for 8000, or the number of lightning bolts observed before the race finally started.
“5K” – short for 2.96 miles, or the calculated tangential distance of this race.
“Bandit” – an unregistered runner who, just for the fun of it, “tags along” with the race leaders at 4:39 per mile; custom observed among Kenyan runners.
“Claw” – a golfing term that means either (a) the fifteenth hole on this particular course, or (b) by association, the course itself. Also: slang for local (city) law enforcement (C.L.A.W.), members of which were forced to eliminate a criminal involved in a series of home invasions just off the USF campus on the afternoon of the meet.
“FLR” – Acronym for “Fool for a Lightning Rod; sums up the mentality of standing around during a severe thunderstorm taking photos on a golf course.
“Invitational” – a footrace, usually involving runners, families of runners, coaches of runners, timers, and spectators, none of whom were actually invited. More to the point, the schools pay for the privilege of being “invited.” (Hence being reluctant to leave in the case of inclement weather.)
“Lightning Arrestor” – Pseudonym for Tom Izzo, famed Michigan State Basketball Coach, who, on Saturday, used his popularity among Spartan students to clear out the stands at a Michigan State-USF Football Game during a severe thunderstorm in East Lansing, Michigan.
“Lightning Monitor” – computerized device that has the effect of slowing human heart rate and causing athletic inactivity for long periods of time.
“Mixed Race” – a mass of humanity in spikes that brings tears to the eyes of a golf course’s head groundskeeper.
“Sit-in” – What your Grandma and Grandpa did--along with their college chums--“back in the day” when they were mad at “The Man.” A more modern term might be any one of the various “occupy” movements.
“Supersenior” – a (former) college runner who, once his eligibility has expired, extends his career as an unregistered runner. (also: see bandit)
“Timing, Half-Mile” – with a generous gift of one sheaf of printed material, saving a correspondent 2640’ in walking distance to obtain race results,
Doom and Gloom
Driving towards Tampa, the sky ahead looked pretty much like that scene from Ghostbusters, where Zuul decides to pay a visit to Dana Barrett. In this case, the “visitor” to a number of women’s apartments near the USF campus had a more modern name. Although that situation was taken care of by the city’s law enforcement (“CLAW,” for short) a few hours before the meet, the atmospheric part (Gozer the Gozerian) was still taking up sky-time in an end-of-the-world scenario.
The invitational’s schedule called for two races: a women’s 5K at five, and a men’s 8K at 5:40. However, a series of thunder-boomers chased everyone inside, and by 4:00 the teams were already well-sequestered in the Claw clubhouse. For the next three hours, it was a scene of relaxed determination; athletes sat inside, studying the local radar on the screens of i-phones, while coaches hung outside, staring skyward in a real-time version of the same.
The NCAA Lightning Guidelines (pages 112 through 114 in the 2013/2014 NCAA Men’s and Women’s Track and Field and Cross Country Rules) require a 30 minute suspension of activity after a lightning strike (within six miles, give or take). But here was a situation where a severe thunderstorm was generating one after another, each of which “reset the clock.” The wait seemed interminable…which it nearly was. The fate of the meet and its participants were caught between “shock and a dark place.” At 7:44 PM the sun would set, and darkness would soon follow. No light, no run.
Nervous coaches exchanged doomsday plans: “What could they do to us if we just ran,” and “I know a place nearby….” Saturday morning road race, anyone?
The image of whole teams lounging around a golf clubhouse will no doubt remain in most people’s minds long after the meet itself intermingles with a hundred others as “the sit in.” Perhaps the term might not resonate as well in the 21st century as it did in the 20th, but the effect does.
At six-something, a final countdown by an impartial lightning monitor gave official verification that the storm had, temporarily at least, passed. An announcement confirmed that warm-ups would commence at 6:30 PM, and a single “Mixed 5K” at 7:00. And so it happened. At seven, 288 charged-up collegians jammed onto a starting line designed for half that many, hundreds of spectators appeared out of nowhere, and the referee set it all in motion.
What no one expected was that the three runners in the lead would go through the mile in about 4:20. Incredible talent? Extraordinary effort? Super-senior pacing? Either one of these, or the huge mass of humanity sprinting for an opening on a wide-open golf course created a serendipitous situation where every single runner set a PR…or might there have been an intrigue afoot?
Speculation is that the leaders began to follow tangents that weren’t intended to be part of the race route, and since no one within striking distance wanted to be at a disadvantage, everyone else followed suit. And so it went on, right down the line. Oh well, we all know that cross country isn’t exact.
What’s in a name?
Shakespeare probably never ran cross country (the kind of clothing they wore in those days no doubt prevented it). However, Sir William would have appreciated the irony of naming a golf course “The Claw at USF.” Maybe he would have put it in a play about a maelstrom and hundreds of stranded travelers: “Oh Claw, wilst thou ever be underfoot?”
In consideration of the home team’s mascot, “The Bulls,” I would have gone with “The Horn,” or “The Hoof.” The promo might have read “Run with the Bulls at ‘The Horn’!” Or maybe,
“Hoof-It with the Bulls!” “The Claw” seems more like something you’d see up in Maine (see: http://www.smosh.com/smosh-pit/articles/8-discontinued-college-mascots.)
All Mixed Up
Actually, the race itself was pretty exciting. Certainly, from the perspective of its participants, it was far better to think you’re running really, really fast, especially after worrying whether you were going to run at all. And who can complain about a well-placed short cut or two? Take this point of view from Matthew Ady, who competed for Stetson:
“I loved it. The mob scene helped me a lot. I was able to pick out a lot of people to pass. It”—the short course—“was kind of annoying, but I extrapolated it in my mind and I think I still had a 20 second PR. And (now) I know I can do it again.”
The leaders were probably too busy running fast to be concerned with exact distance. They went past the mile marker, such as it was, in 4:25.
“I didn’t believe that,” said FAMU’s Elias Chesire, whose open mile PR is 4:19.21. “There was something wrong.”
“I was surprised,” added his teammate, Kevin Marindich, “but I guessed it was short.”
“At the moment that I hit the mile, I knew I was just training,” offered former Embry-Riddle “super-senior” Evans Kirwa.
Kirwa, interestingly enough, went to high school with Chesire: Kapsabet High School, in Eldoret, Kenya.
“I just had to go on pace,” explained Elias.
“We were just running together,” said Kevin.
“I was barely hanging on,” said Evans.
Although they ran in tandem the whole way, Marindich was first in 14:28.11, Chesire second in 14:29.07, and Evans Kirwa didn’t finish at all, as far as the official results sheets show.
Team results were split into an All-College and a Division I category. In the All-College scoring—8 teams total--Embry Riddle (3-6-7-18-26-27-32) tied with Florida Southern (1-5-16-17-21-29-30), each with 60. However, by virtue of their sixth place finisher (27th place vs. FS’s in 29th), the Eagles prevailed. Nova Southeastern was third with 82 (8-9-13-24-28-39-41), just clipping St. Leo, with 83 (2-4-12-31-34-35-36).
In Division I—five teams—Florida Atlantic (3-6-10-11-13-18-24) underscored Florida A & M (1-2-7-20-26-32), 43-56. FIU was third with 67 (4-5-16-19-23-27).
Not long after the start, the women’s winner--Anne Marie Blaney—became lost in the crowd, which might have been the best of all circumstances. Interspersed among so many men, it no doubt added to the need for maintaining a rock-solid pace, and focusing on what was ahead, rather than behind.
“I think the boys helped,” Anne Marie agreed. “I didn’t know where the rest of the girls were—my competition—because it was just a mix.”
Blaney, who has run lifetime bests of 17:39.10 in cross country (3A District 6 Championships on November 9, 2011) and 16:40.31 on the track (Florida Relays on April 4, 2013), has a new college cross country PR—16:50.19—such as it is.
“I hear it was .2 off,” she said.
This is her second win here; as a freshman, Anne-Marie also won in 2012 (18:36.59).
“I won here last year, so of course my goal was to win again. The competition didn’t change much, except my sister, Catherine, was here. She runs for USF. It’s her freshman year. I was worried about her beating me; she was my competition for the most part.”
But this year’s race itself was quite different.
“It was hard, with the delays. I didn’t think we were going to race. It”--the race itself—“wasn’t that difficult, because it was flat, but the muddy grass made it harder to push off the ground.”
Still, Anne-Marie dominated—by 30 seconds over the eventual second place winner (Jelena Tancic of St. Leo in a time of 17:23), and her sister Catherine (11th in 17:48).
Tampa won the All-College team category with 31 points (3-4-5-9-10-11), followed by St. Leo (1-15-17-26-33-38-42; 92), then Embry Riddle (2-19-20-27-29-30-31; 97 points). Nine teams scored.
USF led the DIs with 35 points (3-6-10-11-13-18-24), then came UCF (1-7-9-14-19-28-29; 50), and in third, FAU (2-3-20-21-22-23-24; 68). Five teams here.
Footnotes: It is quite deflating to an athlete who runs an all-out race, only to have a possible PR snatched from his grasp due to circumstances beyond his control. It is very important to the athletes who run Florida Cross Country that the sponsors of meets add legitimacy to their events by measuring them accurately, and also assuring full communication with the timers.
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