How To Survive Cross Country Preseason

My name is Destiny Foster, and I am a Cross Country preseason camp survivor.
Okay, so it wasn’t bad enough to actually kill me, but let me explain something to you. There are two things I genuinely dislike and sometimes even fear: clowns and cross country. I know exactly what you’re going to say, and I’ll respond in the phrase that I have a feeling will get me through college all in itself. “Why do you do cross country if you don’t like it?” My answer: “I don’t know; I’m crazy.” That being said, I can only hope that many other lunatics like myself partake in the hellish 9 days that is preseason camp. This is how to survive preseason.
You’re going to move into the on campus apartments, with your parents nipping at your heels and acting one of two ways: as if you’re moving away for good, completely ignoring the fact that you’ll be home in a week and a half, or as if they can’t wait to get rid of you. When you get into your room, there’s going to be another athlete who you’re going to size up by the looks of her leg muscles – don’t hesitate to tell her you’ve already stalked her Milesplit.com stats and that you know what she ran on May 26th, 2014. You’ll also notice upon your walk to your room that the average person on the team probably weighs about 110 pounds soaking wet. Keep walking, lie to yourself by saying you’re going to have a salad for dinner, and move on.
Your first unofficial practice will be the sketchiest thing you’ll ever take part in. You’ll have to spread out in small, insignificant-looking groups to hide from the athletic department, because you’re technically not supposed to start inflicting massive amounts of pain on your body until Monday. Find out who the fastest girls on your team are, and do not, I repeat DO NOT run with them on this day, or any day during preseason. As friendly as they are, and believe me they are sweethearts, the worst possible thing you could do is go for a 5 mile run at the same pace as the NJAC Rookie of the Year title holder. You’re going to look up mid-run and think to yourself: “Why does it feel like I’m having a heart attack?” Keep running, and cherish this first run, because it’ll be the easiest one of your whole preseason.
You’ll meet a couple of your coaches, but not all of them. Coach Curll will most likely be stranded in another state because his RV gave him trouble. Your first impression of coach Resch, which will definitely be a good one, will uphold itself forever – he is as friendly, sarcastic, and inwardly tough as he seems. You’ll receive your first of many motivational speeches from coach Parker, and you’ll immediately feel as if you can easily bench press a medium-sized car the second she finishes. Her words will get you through every workout, every meet, and every mile.
You’re going to sit through seemingly endless seminars about topics ranging from the importance of drinking excessive amounts of water to a thousand reasons why salt is a good thing. You’re going to register yourself as an official NCAA athlete, and you’re going to feel an unexplainable sense of entitlement while doing so. However, this process entails writing your name so many times that it looks like it’s spelled wrong after a while. Keep writing; it’ll be over soon. On the bright side, your privileges as an athlete include waving off the front desk workers at Big Blue when they ask for your ID because, “I’m with Cross Country,” is code for, “I’m not just a sporadic gymgoer.”
There will come a day when you have to do “bowl repeats” at Holmdel. If you don’t know what the Holmdel bowl is, try to visualize a right angle covered in rocks and dirt. Now, imagine running up that right angle multiple times in one morning. If you’re not scared yet, you should know that you’re about 87% more likely to twist your ankle running on this course than you are at any other time. That being said, the Holmdel workout will be one of the best ones of your life. You’re going to leave with pain in muscles you weren’t even aware you had, but you’re going to limp away with a sense of accomplishment and knowledge that you, my sweaty friend, have just dominated the bowl. No worries, the Osprey bus is air conditioned. However, do the others around you a favor and always have deodorant in your bag. No amount of central air can remedy the damage 40 plus runners post-workout will do to your nostrils.
You’re also going to partake in a lip sync battle. Do what I did: dress up as Lil Wayne (cornrows, grills, and a permanent snarling lip) and rap explicit material in front of your coaches and their children. This, by the way, will be the first time coach Curll will see you, in all your pretentious thug-looking glory, and he will never forget you henceforth.
You will discover random little things about yourself that you either didn’t previously know or didn’t care to find out. For example, you actually do enjoy high socks with sarcastic phrases or woodland creatures embroidered on them. You’re going to be physically and emotionally exhausted by 7 PM every evening, and there is no more effective way to reach your social limit for the day than to spend 18 hours straight with people just as extroverted as yourself – or better yet, trying to coax the introverted out of their shells. You’ll have at least twelve missed messages by the end of every day, and you’re going to be way too exhausted to answer these people. Unless they gave birth to you, do not answer them. Enjoy the company of those physically within proximity of your aching body.
Finally, on the last day of preseason, you’re going to be subjected to possible death by time trial. Coach Resch will have made up his mind 16 different times about the length and location of this course. There will be whispers of the top 18 making the team, and talk of cutting the unfortunate stragglers. Just run your race, and enjoy the free bagels afterwards.
Preseason was both a challenge and an adventure. The idea of subjecting young adults to a certain amount of pain daily to ween out the weakest seems like an initial step toward genocide, but I guarantee the pain is worth the memories you’ll make. My apologies for the cliché. You’re going to be stronger, faster, and significantly more exhausted upon leaving camp than you were when you first walked in. More importantly, you’re going to leave with 40 more friends than you had before, even if you don’t realize it right then. The team is there to help you and provide dry humor in times of need. Take advantage of their constant availability to you – not everybody gets to call these people their teammates. You will survive preseason if you follow all of my advice. Happy running!

Destiny Foster