I’m tired. I’m filthy. I’m sore. But God help me, I am over-joyed.

Conceive of a time, a place, and a context, wherein you experience mild euphoria, and unparalleled worth.

Imagine a place, that no matter how old you become, nor how impaired you seem, you can understand on an atomic level, what it means to be human. To be a product of a transcendent engineering ability, unmatched by the hands of man.

If you can, would you visit it frequently? What would it mean to you where you’re not there? Would you take the chance of showing up, even if you felt displaced, or awkward. Because if you know of such a place, the displacement and awkwardness, don’t really exist. Because they can’t.

I know of such a place. I know of a feeling, an aura, and a condition upon which I reap the sense of existentialism that I can only hope to convey, or at best share.

I ran thirteen miles in fog this morning. And I felt quite able. I had no acute pain, albeit, I was painfully stiff. My organs were unaccustomed to the running, and I felt sick for most of the run.




But I finished it, and it gave me hope towards for fourth of November.




I then traveled to the New England Regional XC Championships, at Franklin Park, Boston, MA. It is an event as pure as the dust, and air, and earth that the thousands of feet impact upon. I know this course well. But I also know the emotion, the pain, and the suffering that exists in these orange and brown colors, amidst the sweat and tears and vomit. It is a culture wholly independent of the majority of this country. Because even in the most free nations, the most expressive people are often slaves.




Cross country is a social abolitionist. It shatters the boundaries our society has bestowed upon us; Fast food, fast culture, fast results. It requires a hardened physical constitution, and even harder state of mind. It relies on a preponderance of courage over timidity. And it is not a sport which one can expect to relieve themselves from.

It is often man against himself. Against the earth. Against everything God has given him, and moreover, everything He has not. It is a challenge of the mind’s control of the body. But in this challenge of body versus mind, of society versus the individual, lies liberation. In this tiny channel of pursuit of athletic prowess, lies the infinite ability to break a finite restriction.

Other sports, in comparison, are mere extensions of Cross Country. The body is the means by which other sports are exhibited. They rely solely on cardiovascular strength, as the heart only pumps blood in a single direction. The simply ideal of running, ensures success at other sports. Cross country is to sport what an ignition is to an automobile; Without which, the body cannot machine forward. Cross Country is the apex of sport, because it is the only one that ensures all others.

Regardless of your avocation, if it be active, sedentary, solitary or en masse, if you have a fraction of the satisfaction this little sport brings me, you live a grand life.

I believe in Cross Country.