Racing in Oregon
Summerville High shows Southern pride in 127-mile relay race on West Coast

By Paul Bowers

Ink contributor - Charleston Post and Courier

Cross country is a bizarre concept to many people.

The practice of running at a difficult pace for long distances serves as a form of punishment in other sports, and as a longtime soccer player, I was a bit skeptical when I started training with Summerville High School's cross country team at the start of summer.

Now, after a rare chance to prove myself in Oregon, where competitive running took off in this country, I know that the sport's many lessons and payoffs are well worth the effort.

No slacking

A sense of anticipation filled the air in May when we received word that our running could earn us an expenses-paid trip to the West Coast. And since many of us had never been, we looked forward to a land covered with redwoods and flowing with Starbucks coffee.

Veteran running coaches Jim and Eileen Kilbreth had just relocated to the school from Spartanburg, and they brought with them an opportunity to participate in the annual Portland to Coast High School Challenge, a sister race of the Hood to Coast Relay, which is the largest relay race on the continent.

As a recent addition to the Summerville High squad, I worked hard to prepare for the qualifying time trial, showing up for training nearly every weekday morning at 6:45 over the course of the summer. We ran about 6-8 miles a day, pushing through local neighborhoods, pounding the Sawmill Branch bike path and tackling the Cooper River bridge on several occasions.

There was little room for slacking under the watch of the Kilbreths, a formidable husband-and-wife coaching combo who led the Spartanburg girls' and boys' cross country teams to numerous state and region titles. Every morning, Mr. Kilbreth arrived at practice sharply dressed and greeted each member of the boys' team with a firm handshake. Mrs. Kilbreth treated the girls with equal respect as she coached them separately. Their strict discipline and positive attitude were exactly what we needed to succeed.

When the summer drew to an end, all the sweat and early mornings finally paid off.

I placed third, qualifying for the co-ed team of six boys and six girls. I still considered myself a soccer player with little knowledge of running strategy, so it would be an understatement to say that I was honored.

As we learned at the informational meeting, the tremendous bill for our coast-to-coast adventure was being paid by Bob Nicolls, a record-holding runner who trained under coach Kilbreth during the 1970s at Lyons Township High School in LaGrange, Ill. Nicolls sponsors the trip every year for his ex-coach's team as a sort of repayment for the valuable experiences he gained.

I'm beginning to understand his gratitude.

The footsteps of legends

On Aug. 22, in the wee hours of the morning, I met with my teammates and coaches for the transcontinental plane ride. Hours later, as we approached Portland International Airport, we flew over snow-capped mountains the likes of which we had never seen. Many of us wasted our disposable cameras on out-the-window shots before we even landed.

Our first order of business after checking into a hotel was a workout at nearby Gabriel Park. The brisk run through winding forest trails was refreshingly easy in the cool, dry climate, especially since we were used to the muggy, stifling heat back home. We were surrounded by trees that looked hundreds of years old, and we couldn't resist sprinting up and down the grassy hill beside the parking lot.

The next day, rubbing jetlagged sleep from our eyes, we made a trip to Eugene to tour the beautiful University of Oregon campus, home of the Ducks. We saw the football stadium, and we got a taste of the campus life (including no shortage of bona-fide hippies). Still, the most fascinating part from a runner's perspective was Hayward Field, the historic facility, where running legend Steve Prefontaine trained and shattered collegiate records in every event from 2,000 to 10,000 meters.

We set foot on the track, where Prefontaine, or "Pre" as the running world affectionately calls him, virtually redefined distance running. Pre was once quoted as saying, "To give anything less than your best is to sacrifice the gift," and runners across the country have adopted this as a sort of motto. In the athletic training building beside the track, memorial items were set up for him and the other athletes who have given the university its high reputation in track and field. As we stared through the glass display cases at all the trophies, plaques and black-and-white photographs, we got a taste of what separates the good from the great.

Another important figure in the history of Oregon track was Bill Bowerman, who has a life-size bronze statue near the track in his honor. He was the coach who trained Pre, helped launch the jogging craze in America and co-founded the company we now know as Nike.

We spent the next day touring the main Nike headquarters in Beaverton, where we learned the history of one of the most successful athletic corporations in the world. As it turns out, Bowerman made some of his first track shoes with rubber soles made in a waffle iron, and business has expanded from there.

Race day

By the day of the race, we were acclimated from daily workouts in Gabriel Park, and we were inspired by the historic places we had seen over the past few days. At 6 p.m. on Aug. 25, when our first runner crossed the starting line, our team's excitement was palpable. Out of 50 high school teams, we were the only one from anywhere east of Montana or south of Oregon, and we felt like we had something to prove to the West Coast, to our coaches and to ourselves.

The process for the relay was somewhat complicated, involving three separate rental vans that we used for transportation to the beginning of each leg. We constantly rotated between vans, and we had it worked out so that the next person to run would be at the trade-off point with ample time to stretch and wait for the previous runner. There was no baton, only an orange slap-bracelet that we handed off at each transition. I was struck by the focus and intensity that overtook my teammates as they drew nearer to their sections of the race.

My first leg was the longest of the race, 7.4 miles of terrain that was rated as "hard" by the race officials. It was my first real cross country meet, but I went into it with confidence. Night was approaching as I started my leg, and I could feel the temperature start to drop as I took off down the shoulder of Highway 30.

I kept up a brutally quick pace for the first five miles or so, but toward the end I felt sick in the pit of my stomach. Fighting back nausea, I willed myself to keep my legs moving, though I slowed down considerably before passing the bracelet to our next runner.

It was on this leg that I learned a much-needed lesson about keeping a reasonable pace, something my coaches and teammates had tried to drill into my head all summer. More importantly, I learned about something I had heard a thousand times in church sermons: Pray continuously.

It's an elusive concept, but I finally discovered what it really meant while I was running in Oregon. On my second leg, a 5.9-mile stretch of road through a heavily wooded area, I prayed nonstop. It was about 2:30 a.m. when I started running, the temperature was 48 degrees, and I could look up through the treetops and see every star laid out above me like the roof of a giant tent. If my God could create all this, I thought, then he could certainly pull some 17-year-old kid across a stretch of pavement.

And he did.

After 127 miles

The race continued straight through the night and into the next morning, our coaches chugging coffee like water to stay awake at the wheel. I was impressed by my teammates as they pushed their own limits on the punishing, hilly course, and before too long our team had taken the lead.

We would hold that lead for the remainder of the race, finishing the 127-mile trek with a total time of 14 hours, 43 minutes, 57 seconds. We won in the mixed-gender division by a long shot, with the second-place team trailing us by about 17 minutes.

The race ended on the beach in Seaside, and we felt it necessary to plunge our tired bodies into the frigid Pacific Ocean. We had traveled from the oppressive heat of the East Coast to the numbingly cold waters of the West Coast, and we had been more successful than we had ever expected.

When we returned to Charleston, we had plenty of stories to tell, but more importantly, we had learned lessons that we will not soon forget - about running, about life and about ourselves.

Paul Bowers is a senior at Summerville High School. Contact him at paul@thebowershome.com.

Summerville Cross Country Web Site (Lots of Pictures)

More of Paul's Writing