Thanksgiving on the Mountain, Vol. 4

For what Joe pronounced was the fourth year in a row, our family celebrated Thanksgiving on Monteagle Mountain, in a house on Tennessee Avenue, in the center of Sewanee's campus.  I've gotten to know Ted, the owner of the house, well enough that he texted me this fall to ask if we wanted the house, again, for Thanksgiving this year.  Someone else wanted to rent it but he gave us first dibs, which was incredibly thoughtful.  

It's been a bit of a hectic fall, although November at work was relatively light for me after a 5-day trial I had scheduled went away when the underlying case settled.  I'll pay for it in December, though, as I am about to get slammed based on what I have on my calendar.  The point being is that it was nice to get away to the Mountain for a few days and spend time together, as a family, with nothing scheduled.  No work meetings, no practices, no games.  Just family time. 

As I've written many times before in this space, for me there is something rejuvenating about spending time on the Mountain.  Monteagle or Sewanee.  Life slows down, so much so, in fact, that I often lose track of what day it is.  That's a nice feeling because in my normal life, everything is scheduled down to the minute or so it seems.  Drop off at school, meetings, court, mediations, pick-ups from practice, games, etc.  Run, run, run.  Not just for me but for all of us.  

Jude and the boys drove up Tuesday evening, after work.  I worked late and hadn't packed, so I stayed in Nashville.  I had to finish up a couple of projects Wednesday morning, so I didn't actually get away until early afternoon on Wednesday.  I could feel myself relaxing on the drive up, though, especially so as I got off I-24 at the Monteagle exit.  Home.  

Jude's parents joined us for Thanksgiving lunch on Thursday.  While Jude and her mom heated up the food, including a turkey courtesy of Martin's BBQ, ham, and various sides, Jim, the boys, and I watched football on the television in the living room.  Unlike in past years, the miracle of streaming allowed us to watch all of the pro and college football we wanted.  

After a bountiful meal and desserts from Meridee's Bakery in Franklin, we hung out with Jane and Jim.  To avoid driving after dark, they left mid-afternoon to drive back to Nashville.  That night, we watch more football and ate leftover, both Thanksgiving traditions.  

Friday was a classic day on the Mountain, on campus, for us.  JP got up early and went for a six or seven mile run.  Joe and I ran three miles together, a mile or so of which was on a logging trail I had never run on before.  We finished with a couple of laps around the Sewanee soccer field across the street from our house.  Later, we all went to the Fowler Center.  I played basketball with JP while Jude played tennis, indoors, with Joe.  Then, we switched, and I played basketball with Joe while Jude played tennis with JP.  Still later, JP, Joe, and I got in some work on the Sewanee baseball field while Jude hiked the Fiery Gizzard.

We also watched Talladega Nights:  The Ballad of Ricky Bobby, which the boys loved.  Because things so often come full circle, I remember when Jude and I saw that move at the Green Hills movie theater in 2006 with a bunch of the frisbee crew on opening night.  The theater was so crowded that Jude and I had to sit on the front row.  That was before JP was born.  It's hard to recall the details of those days with any clarity.  That was our life before children.  It was ephemeral.  

Joe and I watched a couple of episodes of Andor on the Disney Channel.  Joe loves all things Marvel and Star Wars, unlike JP.  I like that Joe has his thing, separate from JP, and that he and I share it.  It was fun, snuggled up on the king size bed downstairs with Joe, watching Andor on my iPad.

Sunday morning, Jude and JP headed back to Nashville early.  Joe and I walked to church at All Saints Chapel.  We were greeted by Rev. Peter Gray outside the church when we walked up, which made me feel like it was going to be a good service.  And it was.  The Episcopal Church is so special to me.  It's where I was baptized - years ago - at St. Paul's in Franklin by Rev. Bob Cowperthwaite.  The homily that Rev. Gray gave, about kindness, resonated with me.  Joe and I talked about it on the walk home.  All Saints Chapel is such a beautiful church and the intimacy of the service - maybe 10 or 15 people there - made our time there even more memorable on Sunday morning.  

There is so much I love about Sewanee and, really, all of it was encapsulated in our annual Thanksgiving holiday visit.  

 

The Best Weekend Ever

Is it possible to identify the best weekend of your life?  

The memory dims over time.  Then, of course, there's recency bias.  I'd like to think I've had a lot of great weekends in my life.  But I'm not sure I can think of one that tops last weekend.

Jude and JP traveled with the MBA varsity cross country team to Cary, NC, for the NXR Regional Championship.  I stayed with Joe, whose Armada soccer team had a tournament in Murfreesboro.  

It was great to have some one-on-one time with Joe.  It always is, actually.  He's special.  So funny, so happy and still, so innocent.  As I've written before, there's a sweet spot for boys, I think, that runs from ages 10 - 12.  Still impressionable and not yet cynical, mostly because if you're lucky, the harsher realities of life had yet be set in stone.  There is a lack of emotional complexity, I think, at that age.  Things are good or they're bad, happy or sad, etc.  Most everything is black and white, not grey.  

Friday night, Joe and I went to the USN high school production of The Wizard of Oz, mostly because our next door neighbor, Erin Joyce, was starring as Dorothy.  We also wanted to see Olivia Westfall, JP's former classmate, whom we had heard stole the show last year in Willie Wonka and the Chocolate Factory.  

After an early dinner at Central BBQ - nothing to write home about - Joe and I checked in and queued up early, so we would be first into the auditorium and in line for good seats.  Our plan worked to perfection, as we ended up on the front row, next to Erin's mother, Maureen, and her guests.  Joe's classmate, Bruce, sat next to Joe.  

To say we were dazzled by the performance is an understatement.  Erin was magnificent.  I wasn't surprised, not really, because for several years I have said that Erin will be president one day.  Since we have known her, she has been precocious, thoughtful, intelligent, responsible, well rounded, and accomplished.  

Still, to see Erin up on stage, performing, was breathtaking.  I mean, Erin was Dorothy.  She inhabited the character so wholly, so completely, that at times, Joe and I forgot that she was our next door neighbor and that we'd known her since she was 10 years old.  Her facial expressions alone as other characters spoke or sang demonstrated an intensity in her performance that was marvelous to observe.  Her singing, too, was exquisite.  I couldn't stop smiling as I watched Erin perform.  Amazing.

Joe and I saw Olivia Westfall, whom I have known since she was in kindergarten with JP, before the show. She said hello a little shyly, then posed for a photo with Joe, after which I talked to Olivia's mom, Annie.  Annie and I grew up and went to high school together. 

Having spent a brief moment with Olivia before the show is part of what made seeing her on stage, performing, as the wicked witch of the west, so startling.  The transformation from the Olivia I have known for so many years to the cackling, green skinned, frightening witch was something I will never forget.  Joe and his friend, Bruce, were astonished and a little frightened when she appeared on stage for the first time in a puff of smoke.  I did not see a trace of the girl I knew.  She looked and sounded completely different, which was part of what was co captivating about Olivia's performance.  Quite literally, she was a different person on stage.  

It was and night to remember.  Joe enjoyed himself immensely, which was awesome, because initially he has some doubts about spending 2 + hours at a play.  He loved it, though, and I did, too.   

For the soccer tournament, Joe's Armada team was divided into two squads, Red and Blue.  Joe played goalie for the Red team.  For perhaps the first time, he appeared completely comfortable in his role.  In both games on Saturday - two wins for Armada - he played decisively, confidently, and aggressively.  He made good decision with the ball and, really, just owned the position.  He was a leader from the position, which is what I think you want your goalie to be.  Joe was vocal - certainly, not anything new to him - and he communicated precisely where he wanted his defensemen to be on every play.  

It was by far the best I've seen Joe play as a goalie.  As I texted to Jude and JP, in NC, Joe played like a boss.  Coach Thomas called Joe the MVP of the day after the second game and I think he was right.  Joe was proud of his performance, as he should have been.  At one point, he stopped a penalty kick, guessing correctly that the right footed kicker would kick the ball to Joe's right.  His stop fired up the team and the parents.  Maybe for the first time, I could see Joe playing more soccer, at goalie, down the line.  Who knows?

The team played well, offensively and defensively.  Coach Mario's influence appears to be taking hold, as the boys passed the ball well to each other and played a game that looked like, well, real soccer, even to a novice like me.  The beautiful game?  Maybe.  Certainly, it was more beautiful than so many of their other games.  The boys were aggressive and physical and really shared the ball well. 

On Sunday morning, Armada Red lost, 1 - 3, to a good team that had one outstanding player.  Joe allowed a soft goal in the second half, which disappointed him, but it was a good outing.  He wasn't quite as sharp as the night before but it was a good, close, and competitive game.  Joe shed a few tears after the loss which I was okay with because he desperately wanted to lead his team into the championship game for the first time and it didn't happen.  

Joe and I drove back from Murfreesboro straight to Dose on Murphy Road, so I could have my morning coffee and he could have hot chocolate.  As we settled in, Jude began texting us updates from the cross county course in Cary, NC, as the teams were warming up then gathering at the starting line.  I tried, unsuccessfully, to find a live feed on the internet.  As we sat in Dose, Jude texted me that the race had started and MBA was in 7th or 8th place, with Farragut in 3rd place.  Then, crickets.  It was like they were crossing the dark side of the moon and had lost all radio contact.  

Joe and I nervously sat at our table waiting on an update from Jude.  Finally, I texted her.  She wasn't sure where MBA was in the race but she had heard from one of the others that one or more of McCallie's runners had struggled and maybe left the race.  That turned out not to be true, although one of McCallie's runners did collapse running up the hill on the home stretch to finish the race.  That actually happened.

Shortly after the race finished, Jude called me.  She excitedly told me that she and the other mothers had run into Coach Russ, who was beaming.  Unofficially, MBA had finished in 2nd place, beating Farragut and McCallie (both state champions).  I was momentarily stunned.  Awestruck, really.  However, based on past experience, I didn't want to celebrate until I someone gave me the official results.  It's very easy, especially at a race like the Nike NXR Regionals with 264 runners, to get incorrect information on who finished where, how many points a team has, etc.  

I texted my friend, Austin, who ran cross country on scholarship at Notre Dame and is well connected with the local, regional, and national track communities.  He already was on-line, on the Nike NXR Regionals website.  He called me and affirmed that MBA had finished in 2nd place and by a considerable margin over Vestavia Hills.  Austin's news clinched it for me and I grinned at Joe in disbelief.  

"They did it!" I said.  "They qualified for Nationals in Portland, OR!"  

I'm not sure who was happier, Joe or me.  I hugged him tightly and we laughed.  Nationals!

In part because we had so much to be thankful for, I made the decision on the spot that Joe and I would try to make it to church at St. Patrick, even though it meant we would arrive a little late.  We rushed home from Dose, changes clothes, hopped in my truck, and beat feet to St. Patrick, 10 minutes or so away from the house.  

As I sat in church on a glorious Sunday morning, at the end of a perfect weekend, I kept thinking about how much I have to be thankful for.  I'm so blessed to have the family I have and for my boys to have the success they are having, at school and in sports.  On top of that, they're such great boys.  After communion, my cell phone buzzed and I looked down and saw that it was JP calling.

I nudged Joe and told him I would be right back.  Hustling to the back of the church and outside, I answered the call.  JP, as excited as he gets, told me he was in the tent after the race signing up for Nationals.  He needed to confirm my e-mail address to make me the contact person on his paperwork.  Just talking to him, I could tell how proud and happy he was, not just of his performance (15:53), but of the MBA team's, as well (four runners under 16:00).  

I'm going to write more, later, about this team and their amazing performance at the Nike NXR Regionals.  A lot more, probably.  

But in that moment, on that glorious Sunday, at the end of the best weekend ever, I was so happy.  JP and his MBA cross country team is going to Nationals!  Truly, a once in a lifetime experience.  Incredible!

Joe and I stopped for lunch at Dicey's, a newish pizza joint near St. Patrick.  Every few minutes, Joe and I grinned, laughed, and said "Nationals!"

The best weekend ever?  Maybe it was for an old dad like me.

 

NXR Southeast Regional Championship

Last night, on my way to teach my late class at Nashville School of Law, JP texted me and asked if I could take him to school early this morning, leaving at 6:40 a.m., so he could run with his cross country teammates before they left this afternoon for North Carolina.

For the first time since 2010, MBA's varsity cross country team is running in the NXR Southeast Regional Championship Meet in Cary, North Caroline.  The boys will fly into Raleigh, NC, this evening, check into the hotel and have dinner.  Tomorrow, they plan to get a run in on the course to familiarize themself with the terrain and layout before Sunday's race.

Earlier this week, Coach Russ learned that the boys are seeded and running in the championship round on Sunday.  That in an of itself is an accomplishment to be proud of, as only the teams with best aggregate times run in the championship round.  As I've said, this is an unusually deep cross country team, with the top five runners all capable of running 3.1 miles in under 16:00.  I would love - and I mean love - for each of the five boys to run his best race of the season on Sunday.  

Initially, I had a five day trial set to conclude this week, so Jude and I decided she would accompany JP to North Carolina and I would stay in town with Joe.  I'm a little jealous, I must admit, to miss the race since my case settled.  It will be a good getaway for Jude and JP, though, and I'll enjoy my time with Joe this weekend.  Joe's Armada team plays in its last tournament of the fall Saturday and Sunday, in Murfreesboro, so between soccer and basketball, he and I will be busy.  

Tonight, Joe and I are going to USN to see our next door neighbor, Erin, star in the high school's production of the Wizard of Oz.  This morning before school, when Joe began grousing about watching play tonight, I reminded him that perhaps the most important thing to me is raise well rounded boys.  I want them to know that the most important thing in life is not who won the Ravens - Bengals game last last night (that would be the Ravens, by the way, who are having a helluva year).  

I told him I wanted him to grow up and read The New Yorker, like I do, and to have an interest in a wide variety of subjects.  I also told him that yesterday, I listened to a fascinating podcast - Plain English with Derek Thompson - about Chat GPT and AI - so fascinating that I'm going to listen to it a second time.  This morning, I listened to a podcast - The Daily (New York Times) about U.S./China interactional relations.  I shared this not to pat myself on the bag but to impress upon him the importance of being a lifelong learner with an insatiable curiosity about the world.  

Yes, I'm glad my boys love sports, like I do.  It's a currency we trade in, for sure.  I love  that I can and do send JP articles from the Athletic or ESPN.com and that, afterwards, it starts a conversation between us.  Just this morning, we talked about an article I sent him on the cross country dynasty at Northern Arizona University.  It reminds me of the way my mom and I would read the same article in Sports Illustrated then talk about it on the telephone, long after I was grown and living on my own.  It was our currency, too.

But what I really want is for my boys to have opinions - informed, educated opinions - about politics, culture, and world events.  I want them to know that the world is so much larger and richer than which teams are in line to get three wild card playoff spots in the NFC this season.  I can't wait for the time when I can send JP and later, Joe, article or columns from the New York Times, Wall Street Journal, the Atlantic, or Substack.  That's coming and soon, too.  

What a gift it is, indeed, to have the opportunity to expose my boys to the world and all it has to offer.  

As for North Carolina and the Regional Championship, go get it, JP.  It's a great day to run!

Back in the day.

Stomp!

Last week, BGA's 6th grade soccer team beat USN (5 - 1) on the soccer field at the River Campus and after the game, for good measure, BGA's players stomped on the USN log at midfield.  Classy and not altogether unexpected for BGA students (and parents) based on past experience.

What BGA didn't know, however, was that USN's 5th graders - including Joe and his partners in crime, Bennett, Sam, the Amazing Arnov, Rory, Sawyer and a few others - played only 10 minutes in the game.  Joe's class of 5th graders is athletic and has several boys who play on high level travel soccer teams.  Taken as a group, they're the USN 6th grade soccer team's secret weapon, if you will.

Last night, at FRA, Coach Davidson played most of the 5th graders the entire game in the tournament semi-final game, a rematch abasing the logo-stomping Wildcats from BGA.  Different USN players, different outcome.  USN shutout BGA 2 - 0 and in an interesting turn of events, to say the least, I heard the BGA parents complaining on a few occasions about how physical USN was playing.  That might be a first in my boys' decade long history at USN - opposing parents parents complaining that USN students were playing too rough.  I love it!

I hadn't seen Joe and his teammates play in a real game against good competition, on the big field (11 v. 11), until last night.  It was fun to watch even for a soccer novice like me.  Some of Joe's classmates - Rory and Sam in particular - are very good soccer players.  Skilled, physical, strong legs.  Arnov is, well, "amazing," with his ferocious quickness and speed.  Joe and Sawyer, more athletes than soccer players, anchored the defense.  Bennett, tall and agile, is a strong midfielder and physical, as well. 

In other words, this isn't your father's 5th and 6th grade USN soccer team.  With the infusion of the 5th graders, it's filled with athletes, soccer players, and boys that enjoy physical play.  I love that, too.

  

For the first time all season, Joe scored a goal.  Sam hit long ball over the defense and as Joe ran it down, he deflected it with his right foot, enough so that he changed the direction of the ball and tipped it over the goalie's shoulder and into the goal.  From a distance, it was hard to see if Joe got a piece of the ball and there was a question as to whether he was offsides.  The goal stood, though, and after the game, Joe assured me that he deflected it.  I was happy for Joe because as a defenseman, he doesn't get many chances to score.  

After the game, on our way to eat dinner at Pancho and Lefty's in Melrose, Joe told me how much fun it is to play soccer for USN, with his friends.  Apparently, the boys break down the games at school the next day and it's a gas to talk about the game they just played in together, rather than various club or travel soccer games they played in at various locations over the weekend.  Great fun!

While I'm own the subject of Joe, his advisory teacher, John Kleiner, sent him a wonderful e-mail last week, thanking him for being an influencer in their advisory group and among his classmates.  Prepared, focused, kind, and friendly were words John used to describe Joe.  Jude and I were proud, to say the least. Joe is blazing his own trail, I think, which is what we want him to do.  

Tonight, a Belmont U. home basketball game.  Tomorrow, JP has his first basketball scrimmage game, Joe's USN soccer team plays in the HVAC finals against FRA, and Joe has HBC baseball practice.  

Let's Go!

 

Driving Mr. Daisy

I taught my class at Nashville School of Law last night and because we have the late slot, I didn't get home until after 10 p.m.  The boys already were in bed, although JP had texted me earlier to ask if we could leave for MBA this morning at 6:25 a.m.  He wanted to leave from campus for his morning run before school because, well, he's JP, and that's what he does.  Grind.  

As we left the house and walked down the sidewalk to my truck, I asked him if he wanted to drive.  "Sure," he replied.  JP has had his learner's permit for several months but he normally drives Jude's 17-year old Honda Pilot, which is going to become his car when he turns 16 in March 2024.  He's only driven my truck a handful of times.  My guess is that since we were leaving earlier than normal and there wouldn't be as much traffic, he thought it would be an idea time to get some seat time in the big rig.  

It's an odd and unsettling experience, for me, to ride in my truck with JP driving.  Most of that is because by nature, I'm a driver and not a passenger.  I hate to ride with anyone.  It's a control thing, I know.  I've always felt may inclination to drive, rather than ride, is based on my late birthday (July) which meant all of my friends were driving before I did.  By the time I got my driver's license the summer after my sophomore year of high school, I was sick of riding with others and have no control over where I went or when I could leave.  I vowed to always drive once I got my license and I've held to that for the most part over the past 41 years.  

JP's a pretty good driver, fortunately.  Still learning, of course.  He's a little too cautious but I like the fact that he's not overconfident.  He'll learn like we all do as he gains driving experience.  As a parent, of course, I just want him to be safe on the roads.  I think Jude and I will ease him into driving on his own by starting late this spring or early this summer, after school is out.  Short trips in the neighborhood and not a lot of night driving.  That's my preliminary plan, anyway.  

Sometimes, like this morning, I find myself wondering where the stroller days went and how we got here from there so quickly.  It's trite to say, or write, but it really does feel like only yesterday that I was rolling JP through the neighborhood in the Baby Jogger City Elite stroller.  Those were some of the best days of my life to be sure, wheeling into Bongo Java or the 12South Tap Room on a Saturday afternoon as JP slept  comfortably in the stroller.  

I felt such a sense of rightness, as if for once in my life, I was exactly who and where I was supposed to be at that point in time.  Nothing made me feel more like a father than wheeling JP through the neighborhood on a Saturday or Sunday afternoon, smiling and nodding as I passed other pedestrians.  Those were different days in the neighborhood, of course.  There were very few children to be seen and even fewer strollers.  12South was not 12South.  It was a real neighborhood then with a real neighborhood feel to it, unlike now with overpriced boutique ladies' stores on every block and the sidewalk full of tourists or bachelorettes and their companions.  

JP and I went everywhere in the City Elite.  Everywhere.  It makes me more than a little nostalgic these days when I go into the basement and see it sitting, forlornly, around the corner.  It's a reminder of one of the best times of my life, one since gone.  I can't bring myself to give away the City Elite, although I've thought about it.  I've looked on line and Baby Jogger doesn't make the model anymore, which is a shame.  

Time.  It stretches and elongates, and it disappears.  So fleeting.  So precious.  

The days are long and the years are short.  Never more true than this morning. 

These are the Days

There are times when I feel an urge to pinch myself as I marvel at my great good fortune to have the boys I have.  This is one of those times.

Jude and I are blessed, quite literally beyond measure, that God gave us JP and Joe.  Our lives have been enriched in countless ways, big and small, by our boys.  JP and Joe, combined, are our North Star.  The center of our universe.  With a tip of the cap to Mary Lou Lord, our compass is always set on our boys.

Yesterday morning as he was sitting down for breakfast, Joe looked at me and asked, earnestly, if I had any plans after work.  

"What do you have in mind?"  I responded.  

"I was wondering if we could go to the gym and get some shots up or maybe go to D-bats for a baseball workout?"  

"Absolutely," I said.  

Joe smiled, contentedly, happy with my response, and turned his attention to his breakfast.  I walked back into the bedroom to get dressed for work, also content, now that I had something to look forward to throughout my work day.  

Later, I left the office early amidst a light day and picked Joe up at school.  I had reserved one of the larger batting cages at D-bats.  Joe and I worked on hitting for an hour.  We made some adjustments to his swing.  He worked hard and it was a struggle at times but the put the work in, just like his brother did at the same age.  When Joe got frustrated after a couple of bad swings, I stopped, and quietly talked to him about the important of failing, and learning, while we're trying different things in the cage.  I told him the work is the reward.  He nodded and we got back to work.  

After Joe and I got home from D-bats last night, I walked upstairs to check on JP and see how his day at school had gone.  He was at his desk, grinding, doing homework.  He looked up and told me he had just gotten the e-mail confirming he made the freshman basketball team.  I was happy for him because he missed tryouts due to cross country practice in the week leading up to the state championship meet and had practiced a couple of day with the team at Coach Dodson's suggestion.  I'm not sure that basketball is I JP's long-term future but for this year, anyway, I thought it would be a good idea for him to take break from running an play a different sport.

Speaking of running, the MBA cross country team is traveling to Cary, NC, next weekend to run in the regional meet for the first time since 2010.  Leaving Friday midday and returning Sunday.  It's a big deal for the boys and the school for them to run in the regional meet.  

Because JP is JP, he has gotten up at 5:30 a.m. the last couple of mornings, before school, and gone for a run.  Five miles yesterday and six miles this morning.  All on his own with no prompting from me.  Why? Because he doesn't want to miss out on any training in advance of the regional meet and he has basketball practice in the afternoon, after school.  

Before I left to take JP to school this morning, I followed her into her closet in our bedroom.  Smiling and shaking my head bemusedly, I asked her if she ever thought about how rare it was to have a boy - a teenager - who works as JP does and is as driven to succeed, in everything, as JP is.  We shook our heads, laughing, and acknowledge our great good fortune.

I love that phrase.  Great good fortune.  

Two boys that want to work.  In school and in sports.  Two boys that are kindhearted, gentle souls who enrich our lives in every imaginable way.  

 

State!

On a beautiful early November day at Sanders Ferry Park, MBA's varsity cross country lost the state championship to Chattanooga McCallie by 8 points.  Beating McCallie - the four team state champs - was always going to be a tall order.  Yesterday, it just wasn't to be for MBA or any of the other challengers from across the state.  

MBA's runner up finish was impressive with three runners in the top 12.  Jack Wallace (7), Samuel Trumble (10), and JP (12).  An eighth point deficit is not a lot, obviously, but McCallie is a strong cross country squad and there's no shame in finishing second to them in a meet that could have turned out differently with a break here or there.  

I missed the earlier race at Sanders Ferry, so it was my first trip there.  It's a beautiful park nestled along the banks of Drakes Creek in Hendersonville.  The cross country course undulates thought the park, so it's not an easy course by and stretch.  Two laps, too, which means the runners see each hill not once but twice.  

I arrived early, about 8:30 a.m., and walked part of the course.  It was chilly but not cold and I was comfortable in my joggers, pullover, and running gloves.  Most of the school has arrived and were assembling their tents and setting up camp near the starting line.  I got JP and Joe some swat - screen printed hoodies and t-shirts - and got ready to watch the varsity girls' race.

There's always a palpable feeling of nervousness - anticipation, really - before a cross country race.  You can feel it and see it on the faces of the athletes, parents, and coaches.  It was more noticeable before yesterday's race or so it seemed to me.  There was more at stake and for many athletes, it was the final race of their high school careers.  

I bumped into Jude, Joe, and he parents on the inside portion of the course after the varsity girl's race, which saw two Father Ryan young ladies finish 1 - 2.  Impressive.  Jude and her parents were comfortably ensconced in camping chairs and Joe was bouncing around the course, excited to be missing a day of school and to watch JP race.

After speaking to them for a moment, I walked up the hill and over to a pavilion with a view of the river on the back side of the course.  I wanted to be alone with my thoughts, as is my wont before JP's races.  I sat on a picnic table, closed my eyes, breathed deeply, and mediated for a few moments.  Then, after a silent prayer, I walked down to a spot I had identified at almost the one mile mark.  

A few minutes alter, I heard the starter's pistol fire in the distance, and I started the stopwatch on my Garmin.  As the leaders rounded the corner, I saw Sam Trumble running with them in a group of seven or eight.  I saw Jack Wallace, too, tall and lanky, easily distinguishable among the other runners.  Somehow, I never saw JP, Mitchell, or Gabe in the pack of runners that ran by next, still bunched up after the start.  

I hustled across to the back side hill and I was able too see JP, Mitchell, Gabe running comfortably together in what was becoming a smaller group of runner behind the leaders.  JP looked comfortable but intense.  Focused.  He looked the same when I saw him come up the hill near the finish of the first lap of the course.  No recognition as he ran by me and I yelled for him.  He stared straight ahead, running strong along with his teammates.  

One of memories I will take from this season is that of JP, Mitchell, and Gabe running side-by-side, as they did in the last three races.  There's strength in numbers in cross country races and to watch them run together, stride for stride, one senior and two freshman, was special.  I hope they remember it, too.

On the final pass across the hill before the home stretch, JP had pulled away from Mitchell and Gabe by few yards.  I ran down to the finish line and watched the leaders finish.  I leaned out to video JP's finish while I tried to avoid the runners as they rounded the final curve on the inside of the course, sprinting to the finish line 15 yards to my left.  

I saw JP running toward me, alone, with a McCallie runner trailing behind him but not gaining on him.  I yelled for JP, he flashed by, and just like that, the race was over.  

JP finished 12th in the state.  15:57.  

I walked over the finishing chute, greeted JP and the other MBA runners I bumped into, then walked away, alone in my thoughts for a few minutes.  I was proud of JP and proud of all of his teammates, too.  What a season!

After the award ceremony, I found Samuel Trumble and Mitchell Chaffin, the senior co-captains and team leaders, and shared a brief moment with them.  As my voice choked with emotion, I thanked them for their leadership, mentorship, and for showing JP the way.  They made him feel welcome this season and gave him the freedom, I think, to develop as a runner and competitor.  He looks up to both of them so much.  It's meant the world to him, I know, for Samuel and Mitchell to treat him as a peer, as a friend.  

I think Samuel and Mitchell established a bond with JP that will last long after they graduate this May.  I think - I hope - they feel good about entrusting to JP and Gabe their legacy of hard work and leadership to her passed on to other, younger MBA runners in the years to come.  In many ways, I think that's a large part of what being an MBA student and athlete is all about.  

Leadership.  Legacy.  Tradition.

I'm proud of JP and I'm proud of his teammates.  

State!

It's the morning of the State Championship Cross Country Meet at Sanders Ferry Park in Hendersonville, TN.  I'm having coffee and a quick breakfast before I head over to the park for the race.

I dropped JP off at MBA to catch the bus a few minutes ago.  On the way to MBA, we talked about it being just another race.  3.1 miles (5k) he could run anywhere.  He just happened to be running it at Sanders Ferry.  I reminded him to run his race.  Then, I said what I say to him before every race.

All you got.  

I told him I loved him and I was proud of him.  And, just like that, JP got his bag from the backseat, and walked into the school to get his gear together.  Proud.  Eager.  Ready.

As I drove through the parking lot, I saw JP's coach, Roderick Russ.  Great teacher, great coach, great family man, great guy.  I think he is as excited as I am.  It's a special group of boys.  He reminded them of that last night, at the team dinner.  He told them that no matter what happens today, it won't change the bond they will have together for the rest of their lives.  

I couldn't agree more.  Win, lose or draw, what a cross country season for JP and his teammates.

My only hope, today, is for every one of them to run his best race.

State!