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Fall ‘77. We are away in XC on a 2.7 mile course that runs close to the river area at the beginning. Never ran their before, but I had won my first XC race against these guys the year before. We are both the worst teams in the area. It rains heavy for 2 days. They have like 30 kids in this race. Looks like the junior high team is out as well. Pistol cracks and we head for the river. Damn every kid over 4’ 2” is ahead of me and as we get to the river it’s because you have about 150 yards of boards to run on in the water from the flooding. They get to the boards and just kick back. I launch off into the water, but don’t take the lead until about a half mile to go. That’s how it works. It took me that long to get past everyone. We lost that meet. Good on them.

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We had guys that were maybe middle packers who made a career of sand bagging until the end in XC and then did their best Filbert Bayi at the end and ran kids into the ground. And we loved it.

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I own a copy of Bloom's "Cross Country Running" book from 1978. It made a lasting impression on me. It is an unabashed love letter to the sport.

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