Since 1919
“Bittersweet is not the right word,” redshirt senior Kent Morikawa said. “It’s …”
His voice trailed away and escaped him, a lump forming in his throat.
For in the world of cross country in which runners are judged by the smallest seconds, the fastest times and the quickest mile pace, time seemed to stop as Morikawa faced the uncomfortable realization that the results from Saturday’s race really did happen.
And so it comes down to this.
For a season that saw the dedication of early September runs through the foothills of Mammoth Lakes; the tireless routine of morning and afternoon two-a-days during the quarter; the loss of standout runners and the rise of strong freshmen; and the experience gained from weekend meets, the men and women’s cross country teams will be defined by a matter of minutes, most likely no more than 25, on Saturday for the NCAA West Regionals in Palo Alto.
And on Saturday’s Pac-12 Championships in Tempe, Ariz., the men and women’s cross country teams fought together and for one another.
In fall 1894, the Yale Bulldogs visited the Harvard Crimson for one of the most violent football games ever played. Dressed in simple uniforms, worn-down cleats and strips of leather around their heads, these Leather Lids (a euphemism for football players back in those days) gathered at the line of scrimmage for what would be known as the “Bloodbath in Hampden Park.”
Many runners, from the novice with tired legs to the expert with strong running form, pursue individual goals: pounds they want to lose, a distance they want to cover or a time they want to beat. And as long as they can drop down one pant size, reach the end of Mulholland Drive or complete the perimeter of campus in a half hour, they will feel accomplished.
The men and women’s cross country teams are heading in opposite directions.
While one has been stringing together strong performances and successful meets, the other has been bruised and battered in the face of increased competition.
Friday’s Wisconsin Adidas Invitational in Madison, Wis was no different.
The No.
Redshirt senior Kent Morikawa looked out toward the Intramural Field from the sidelines, his immobile right ankle wrapped in layers of tape, the rest of his teammates moving purposefully around the field at a 4:45 mile clip.
