This weekend, I finished my first season as a cross country mom.
It’s a sport like no other.
Brace yourselves.
It’s a sport where spectators run from viewpoint to viewpoint to cheer on their kids and their team.
If you’ve never seen spectators running, it looks something like this:

Coaches are also running.
Sometimes (or if I was honest, oftentimes), people don’t know where the next viewpoint is, so we run after someone who looks like they know.
Sometimes people run in different directions.
It’s the craziest sport I’ve ever seen.
I saw one parent on a bicycle.
That’s sensible, but somehow less cool-looking than being out of breath and sweating.
Because, even at my age, I want to look cool.
So, I’m out of breath and sweating.
You can tell who the devoted spectators are.
They’re the people running all over the place.
By the end of the race, we got a workout too.
So, take that, you football and soccer fans,
sitting on your bleachers,
enjoying food and drinks,
socializing
while we sweat and pant.
Then, there is the meet time.
Namely, getting on a school bus at an ungodly hour of 6:30 in the morning to go to Wenatchee, Leavenworth, and Manson.
Different weeks, of course.
May I say that it’s cold and dark, even in September?
One kid showed up with a pillow.
Talk about home field advantage.
Kids not only have to bring a packed lunch, but a packed breakfast.
Then there’s the actual race which, depending on the distance, doesn’t last more than 15-20 minutes.
People drive two hours in one direction to watch a 15-20 minute race.
Well, it’s more if you count the warm up, said one parent.
I did not drive to Wenatchee, Leavenworth or Manson, but I did drive to Oroville. After sprinting to different viewpoints but still unable to see most of it, the race was over.
I consoled my daughter, who was a second behind another runner.
I couldn’t catch up to her, mom.
That’s what it comes down to sometimes. A second.
I hugged her as 42 runners followed her across the finish line.
Look, I said.
Thank you, she said. I don’t know what I would have done if you weren’t here.
That was worth the two-hour drive to Oroville.
There is no turning back once you’re in the race.
No substitutions because you’re tired or not running well.
No time outs.
You have to carry your own weight.
Your performance isn’t dependent on anyone else’s.
It’s just you, the terrain, and the other runners.
It’s a sport where people push their bodies to their limits.
You can see the pain in some of their faces as they cross the finish line.
I can’t help but be proud of every single runner in the race, on every team.
I cheer them on.
My hat goes off to anyone that can run 1.5 or 3 miles.
I never liked running.
As I grew older, I became sedentary.
My mind raced while my body sat still… reading, typing.
Do eye and finger movements count?
I know if I keep this up, I won’t be able to run at all.
I participated in a fun run this weekend.
I loved it.
I want to run for myself.
I want to support our kids, every one of them, that run five days a week and sometimes a sixth day for competition.
They deserve our respect and support.
In running, everyone is a winner.
The challenge, as in life, is to finish the race.
To finish strong.
Next season, come run with us.
See you on the field.











































I loved your opinion piece on the thrill of cross-country. Unconventional and thrilling for sure! Kudos to these dedicated kids and their loyal fans!
Thank you, Pauline!