Laying it All on the Line

As a father, or at least as the kind of father I am, there is no greater joy than watching one of my sons compete.  Not win or succeed, mind you, but compete.  

To put it all out there and see what happens takes courage, discipline, confidence, leadership, and faith.  I hope I have imbued my sons with all of those characteristics.  Why?  Because those are some of the things I believe will help them have a rewarding, productive, and successful life.

Yesterday, in 90 + degree heat, I had the privilege of watching Joe compete for the MBA junior school cross country team in a meet at Ensworth High School.  It's my least favorite course the boys run on because there is no shade, it's two laps, and the course is, well, flat and boring.  It doesn't feel like a real cross country race.  It feels like a bunch of kids running in a field.  

Pretty quickly after the start, a group of three - including Cullen Weaver (one of my favorite boys and one whom I've known forever) - broke away.  An Ensworth boy, a USN boy, and Cullen.  Joe was in the second group, running 10 yards or so behind the first group when I saw him at what I think was about the half-mile mark.  He didn't look particularly comfortable, so I was thinking it might be a difficult two miles for him.

When the boys completed the first lap and approached me again, the first two had pulled away and Cullen was in third, 20 - 25 yards behind the two leaders.  Joe and the second group of runners had fallen back a little further and were spreading out a little bit.  Joe was running with two boys from MBA, in positions 8 8 - 10, in the rear of the second group.  As Joe passed me, he was staring straight ahead, focused.  I've seen that look on JP in many races over the years.  

The boys turned right and ran under the bridge, which is the part of the course I call the dark side of the moon.  Few spectators.  Desolate.  No contact.  You wait, and wait, and wait until, at last, the boys emerge, turn right, and run the final quarter mile to the finish, which is in in the middle of the field.  A very anticlimactic finish, at that, due to the course layout.

When Joe rounded the corner, he was in the 10th spot, just behind his MBA teammates.  I could see he was spent.  Really fighting it the point of exhaustion, so much so that I asked him if he was okay.  He nodded his head in response, focused intently on completing the race.  I was exceptionally proud of him in that moment because I saw a side of Joe I don't often get to see but one I want to see more of.  Intense and concentrating on the task at hand.  Laying it all on the line.

I ran to the finish line, past it actually, to get the Styrofoam cooler I had picked up on my way to the race.  I had put some iced down bottled waters and a Gatorade in it, which I knew Joe would need after the race.  When I got to the finish line, JP was with Joe, which was a nice moment.  I poured some ice cold water over Joe's head, gave him the bottle, and congratulated him on a well run race.  

I was happy for him when he learned he ran a 12:44 - a PR - 15 seconds faster than last week.  Progress!  He was proud, too, as he should have been.  

Does Joe love to run cross country, and to race?  I'm curious about that and I don't know the answer.  Not yet, anyway.  Time will tell.  For now, though, I'm proud of him for the work he's putting in, every day, and the courage he is showing in toeing the line every week at a race.

After the race, after Coach Reynolds addressed the boys, he said, "Joe Newman, where are you?  Break us down!"  

Joe pushed through to the middle of the group of the hot, sweaty, exhausted boys and yelled "1, 2, 3 . . . Go Big Red!"

I nodded, smiled, and fought back a quick, unexpected tear as I stood on the periphery of the group of boys.  

JP, with retired USN cross country and track coach, Zaf Ahmed, a legend in the Nashville running community.  

Where to begin?

Yesterday, I picked Jude up at the airport in Jacksonville shortly after 1 p.m.  I drove her to the house, then I went to Publix to pick up a few things for dinner.  Since the elite high school boys' race didn't run until 7:45 p.m., I figured the restaurants would be closed by the time we got back.  No doubt, we'd be hungry, so it made sense to cook something after the race.

I was nervous about after work traffic, on top of which the Jaguars were playing a preseason football game at home last night, so we decided to leave about 5:00 p.m. for the drive to the Cecil Field golf course.  My concern was that a 30 minute drive, with traffic, could turn into a 1 + hour drive.  I can't imagine anything worse than flying to Jacksonville for a cross country race, then to miss the race because of traffic.  

I'm a nervous traveler in every way.  That's the kind of thing I worry about.  

The problem, of course, was that we got to the race a little early, around 5:40 p.m., roughly two hours before the start.  After picking up JP's race packet and setting up our camping chairs in a shady spot under some trees, we sat in the Jeep Grand Wagoneer for a bit with the air conditioner running full blast.  It was hot and very humid, and the last thing I wanted was for JP to be wandering through the for two hours in the energy sapping heat.  

After a half hour to 45 minutes, JP announced it was time to warm up, and off he went.  As Jude and I got out of the truck, my stomach was in knots.  There were runners, and parents of runners, everywhere.  Two kinds of parents, really.  Their children had finished their races.  Others, like me, who weren't smiling- or weren't smiling too much - were waiting for their son or daughter to run.  

I was really, really worried about the heat.  It was stifling, although not quite as bad as it had been a couple of hours earlier.

At JP's request, I stood behind the elite high school girls as they waited for the start of their race at 7:15 p.m.  When the horn sounded and they were off, I moved up and stood on the starting line, feet spread wide, to save a spot for JP as he and 300 + other boys warmed up in front of me.  Other parents and coaches did the same thing.  I had a very nice chat with a lady from Niceville, FL, whose son was running in the elite high school boys' race, as well.

As it got closer to race time, the boys starting filling in at the staring line and things began to get more and more crowded.  The more crowded it got at the starting line, the hotter it got, too, with so many anxious, keyed up boys crowding in together.  The tension was palpable.  

As JP took the spot I had saved for I'm, I told him good luck and began to walk off the course.  Looking over my shoulder one more time, I could see that he already was being enveloped by teams on both sides of him.  Running alone in a race against teams of 7 - 10 boys put him at a real disadvantage, especially at the starting line.  I also could tell that, really, there were too many boys in the elite race.  350 runners!  Far too many for the course in my my view.

What I later learned, and this is from JP, is that right before the race started, Richard Fannin (the race director), slotted an entire team next to JP, which was unfortunate.  They surrounded him, more or less, and he didn't have a straight line to the front of the pack when the race started.  As a result, in the full out spring the first 200 yards of the race to get to where the course narrowed, he got squeezed out of the front group.  Which, of course, meant he had to expend a lot of energy to get back up front.  That's the way he saw it, anyway.  

I figured that was what had happened because when the lead groups of boys passed by me before the first mile, I couldn't find JP anywhere.  I sprinted across the course - it's two loops - to just before the halfway point.  I waited, and waited, and waited.  Every course seems to have the "dark side of the moon," the place where you wait for what seems an interminable amount of time to get a glimpse of your son.  Those minutes seem to take forever.

When the boys passed me, JP was in the top 10.  He was staring straight ahead, intensely focused.  There was a group of three up from, including Armando Cruz from Belen Jesuit who ultimately won the race in the second fastest time ever at 15:06, and it was clear JP wasn't going to catch those guys.  Still, I wanted him to hold his spot and finish strongly, and that's exactly what he did. 

I ran to the finish, which is slightly uphill, and waited.  When he rounded the final turn, 200 yards or so from the finish line, he was second in a pack of four runners.  He held off the two guys behind him and tried to catch the runner in front of him, who crossed the line a whisker ahead of him.  I loved, and I meant LOVED, his finish.  He kept his foot on the gas the entire race, which was huge.  It would have been easy to slack off just a tad when he realized he wasn't going to win, or set a PR, and he didn't do that.  Far from it.  He pushed through to the very end of the race and finished strong. 

In the end, JP ran a 15:44.  Initially, I think he was a little disappointed with his time.  He quickly became philosophical about it, though, recognizing that getting an early race in against such tough competition would help him get ready for the season back home.  Moreover, finishing 6th our of 351 runners is impressive, no matter how you look at it. 

After the race, while we waited for the awards ceremony, JP talked to his coach, Roderick Russ.  Listening to him talk to Coach Russ and debrief about the race is, in many ways, what it's all about.  Coach Russ has been so supportive of JP over the past four years.  

Later, as we walked back to the truck, JP mentioned how glad he was he had run the race.  While the time wasn't as fast as he had hoped, he felt like the race prepared him for the season ahead.  I agree.  

Keep going.

Cecil Field Summer Classic

Before the season, JP and I decided it would be good for him to run an early race, in August, before MBA's cross country season officials starts in mid-September at the Chickasaw Trails Invitational.  After poking around a bit, I found the Cecil Field Summer Classic in Jacksonville, Florida.

Flat, fast course.  A very fast field, with the best teams from Florida, South Carolina, and Georgia.  Belen Jesuit (Miami, FL), my pick or the best cross country program in the south, year in and year out, is running.  Perfect for JP to try to put a fast time up on the board early in the season.  

The race director, Richard Fannin, has been tremendously helpful to us.  He worked with JP's coach, Roderick Russ, to enter MBA as a team, although only JP is running.  It's cool, though, that JP gets to represent the Big Red at the meet.  As the only runner from Tennessee, he's carrying the banner for the Volunteer State.  

This morning, we left the Airbnb and drove to Cecil Field.  At one time before President Clinton decommissioned it, Cecil Field was the largest Naval Air Base in the United States.  The boys are running on the old golf course at the base, which should be perfect for fast times.  Flat.  Mowed low.  Two laps.  

Richard greeted JP and I when we arrived at the course this morning.  He was gracious enough to drive us all the way around the course, so JP could get a feel for it.  Such hospitality, which we really appreciated. 

It will be interesting to see how JP runs tonight.  Race time is 7:45 p.m. for the elite high school boys.  It's hot now, in the high '80's.  I'm hoping in the next three hours, the temperature drops into the '70's.  That would be ideal.

I'm proud of JP for toeing the line, yet again, and running run such a strong field.  I hope he runs well but it's early and there is a long season ahead.  That's what we're hoping for, anyway.

MBA Cross Country Breakfast and Run

Yesterday, Jude and I hosted the 49th annual MBA Cross Country Breakfast and Run at our house.  Truth be told, I'd had my eye on hosting this event since JP was a freshman.  Part of the reason we wanted a screened in porch was to be able to comfortable host events like this one.

Traditionally, it's an event that officially kicks off MBA's cross country season and the start of school, which for JP and Joe, is tomorrow.  For the past week or two, we've been been working to get the house cleaned up and decluttered, no small task for us.  Friday night, all of us were up until past 11 p.m. taking care of a few final chores in anticipation of the 50 or so people that would be arriving early the next morning.

Yesterday morning, I got up at 6 a.m. and went for a quick walk.  After grabbing coffee to go at 8th & Roast, I went to Publix to pick up a few last minute items for the party.  More bags of ice, paper towels, etc.  Just before 8 a.m., Roderick Russ and Win Bassett arrived.  The boys began trickling in shortly thereafter.  They walked around back and set up shop in the seating area under the deck.  The boys dropped off their water, cell phones, and for a few who were driving, their keys.  

After they stretched, they ran in two groups.  JP, Gabe, and the older, stronger runners were in one group.  Joe ran with the underclassmen a junior varsity runners, who weren't going to run as long as JP's group.  Coach Russ and Coach Bassett - both in tip top shape - ran with the boys, as well.  They left about 8:30 a.m, which gave us a little extra time before the parents began arriving.

MBA Cross Country 2026

In my mind, I had hoped to be in good enough shape to run with JP and the guys a few times this summer and, maybe, on the breakfast run.  That didn't really happen, though, as I've not had the most consistent running year to date and, by far, most of my runs have been three, or may be four, milers.  On top of that, I don't want to get in JP's business.  Running with his teammates is special and something that belongs to him alone.  He needs that outlet, I think.

Parents began arriving a little after 9 a.m., bringing the food and drinks they had signed up for one the Sign Up Genius that Jude had created for the event.  Friday night, she had covered the ping pong table on the deck, and it worked perfectly as a spot for all of the food.  And it was a ton of food!  Sausage and egg casserole, 111 sausage balls (courtesy of Jane White), fruit, tater tot casserole, Chick-fil-A, donuts, bagels and cream cheese, and on and on.  

As the younger boys, including Joe, began trickling in, they grabbed a Gatorade or bottled water from the cooler I set out front on the driveway.  Orange slices and bananas, too.  All needed because it was damn hot with the temperature set to hit 100 degrees (again) later in the afternoon.  In the backyard, the boys began to play corn hold and toss the frisbee.  A few of the boys found the blitz balls and bat JP has set out the night before.  And, boys being boys, the back yard was quickly filled with shouting and laughing as the boys played together, seemingly without a care in the world (even though the start of school was two days away).

Coach Russ suggested the adults start eating as the older boys began to return to their house from their longer run.  Soon enough, the adults were standing in groups on the screened in porch, eating breakfast and chatting amiably.  The boys got their food and went downstairs where they could sit, eat, and talk about . . . well, whatever it is that boys talk about.

At one point, as all of the other boys played in the backyard, I saw JP, Gabe, Calhoun, and Win sitting together in the shade under the screened in porch.  All seniors.  Cool in the way that you can only be at the beginning of you senior year of high school, when the best of year of your life is staring you in the face.  It's a once in a lifetime feeling, in a way, at the very beginning of a once in a lifetime year. 

JP, Win, Gabe and Calhoun ('27)

About 10:30 a.m. or so, the party wound down as families departed to enjoy the last weekend of the summer.  It was a wonderful event that I'm so glad we got to host.

What I'll remember most, though, is a moment I shared with JP at the end of our driveway before the party, as we waited for his teammates to begin to arrive.  As he stool there, shirtless, in the best shape of his life, I told him I was proud of him.  Not only for his accomplishments but for the hard work, the practices, the dedication, the discipline, the leadership.  All of it.  

"Enjoy this year, JP," I said.  It's going to fly by.

"I will," he replied.  "I will."

  

Feeling 60

Thursday morning, after Jude got up, I rolled over in bed as I was waking up and as I turned my head, I heard a crunching sound in the right side of my neck.  Kind of like one of those plastic toys toddlers play with that they stretch and pull to hear the noise it makes.  I felt it, too, and worse still, my neck immediately began throbbing painfully.

My first thought was that I'd herniated a disc in my cervical spine.  That's still my fear, sine I'm still in quite a bit of pain, three days later.  If I want to look to the right - for example, when I'm driving - I have to turn my entire torso to the right.  I've been taking ibuprofen like they's candy, which has helped a bit with the pain.  Yesterday for most of the day, I wore a Salonpas patch on the part of my neck that hurts the most.  It loosened up some but, this morning, as I drink my coffee at 8th & Roast, there is a dull, aching pain in the right side of my neck.

So far, there is no numbness or tingling in my arms, hands, or fingers, which is a good sign, I guess.  Still, my right shoulder is a bit sore, which I guess is somehow related to whatever it is that I did with my neck.

I think what scares me is immediately after I felt, and heard, the cracking in my neck, it felt tired.  It's hard to explain but that's the way it feels when my low back issues flare up.  My back feels tired, then extremely sore, which can last for weeks.  I have low back pain every day, which I've learned to live with, because it's not been debilitating pain since the flareup I had a decade ago.  It's just something I live with.  I'm not sure I could live with pain in my neck, every day, like I have now.  

I suppose I'll make an appointment with a neurosurgeon next week to get my neck looked at, although I'd rather not.  I don't really have time and I sure as hell don't want to hear that I've herniated a disc and I'm looking at surgery.  A cervical discectomy and fusion at C-2/C-3 or C-3/C-4 is not something I want to deal with.  Not now, not ever, if I'm lucky.

I've been 60 years old for one month today.  Let's hope this is not a preview of what my 60's are going to be like.

The Firsts Shall Be Lasts

Yesterday, JP left for his fourth and final cross country camp in Alabama.  It's the first of so many lasts for him, and for me, this year.  

I vividly remember when he went to his first cross country camp - led by seniors, Mitchell Chaffin and Samuel Trumble - and ran well in the two mile time trial.  His performance surprised many - head coach, Roderick Russ, and his older, upperclassman teammates - but it didn't surprise me, not one bit.  Having taken a look at high school race times from the previous year, I knew JP (and Gabe Guillamondegui) would run with the varsity as freshman, and run well.  And that's exactly what happened.

JP's performance in the time trial, at camp, as a freshman, announced his arrival on the cross county landscape at MBA.  That's the way I see it, anyway.  I hope he runs well in the time trial this week, too.  I want JP's final cross country season to be everything he wants it to be, particularly after he was injured last spring during a large part of the track season.  

JP met his MBA little brother last week, a seventh grader from Brentwood Middle School.  When I went to junior high (7th - 9th grades) there in the late '70's, it was called Northside Junior High.  Still the Vikings.  Still green and gold.  A full circle moment to be sure.  JP, a senior, meets his little brother for the first time, much as he meet his big brother at MBA for the first time five years ago.

For every season, turn, turn, turn . . . 

JP's school books arrived in the mail the other day.  Even now, they're sitting, boxed up, on the dining room table.  I eye them suspiciously every time I walk by the dining room, knowing those damn books are doing to dominate his attention soon enough.  He's got, roughly, two more weeks before he begins the last year on the Hill.  It's all so hard to believe.

     

Down From the Mountain

Still processing the tragic death of Glen Hansard in a motorcycle accident two days ago, I'm sitting on the back porch of the house on Florida Avenue in Sewanee, Saturday afternoon, postponing my departure.  Jude and the boys left yesterday and, actually, I have the house until tomorrow, but I need to get home.  Reality awaits.

Our family needed this weeklong getaway to the Mountain, as the summer winds down.  I know Jude would have rather gone to Santa Rosa Beach but Sewanee made more sense.  Shorter distance to travel and the need for the boys - especially JP - to have a place to train for cross country made Sewanee a better choice, I think.  

We had a great week together, one I will remember for a long time.  I had to work more than I would have liked, especially yesterday, but we had plenty of down time.  We played hearts almost every day.  We played bananagrams (a first for me).  We watched movies - Good Will Hunting and The Town.  We all read, a lot.  The boys finished their summer reading for MBA, while Jude and I read for pleasure.  I finished The Topeka School (Ben Lerner) and Guide Me Home (Attica Locke),  both good novels.

Every morning, JP went for a solo run and Joe and I ran together.  What a joy for me, as a father and an avid runner, to see my boys up early and running every morning while we were on vacation.  Really, for me, it doesn't get any better than that.  Running with my boys in my favorite place in the world.    

Joe's cross country coach set a goal for the boys to run 100 miles this summer.  Joe left the Mountain, yesterday, with 94 miles in his pocket.  After his three mile run at home this morning, he's sitting on 97 miles.  Tomorrow, he will hit 100, and hopefully I will get to run the last three miles with him.  Quite an accomplishment for Joe.  

Joe's body has begun to transform this summer, as he's gotten taller, something he's been waiting to happen forever.  He's thinned out, probably due to the running.  On top of that, I can see him being more careful about what he eats, which is a sign of his growing maturity.  My youngest boy is growing up.

We ate at our favorite restaurants.  High Point, Shenanigan's (twice), Papa Ron's, Judith Tavern, and Shakerag.  The Mountain Goat Market was closed for two weeks of summer vacation, so that's the only one we missed, as it turns out.

As always, I can't get enough of the Mountain and Sewanee.  I would move up there tomorrow if I could.  This house on Florida Avenue is my favorite.  It's my third time staying here and it feels like, well, home.  It's around the corner from the football field, which was cool since MBA's football team was at Sewanee for camp this week.  It was nice to sit on the back porch and listen to the practicing in the mornings and evenings. 

If I could figure out a way to take a year off work and live her, on the Mountain, I would do it.  I really would.  

For now, though, time to pack up and head down the Mountain.