By Mark Walters

Mark Walters is a senior staff writer for The Chronicle. He is the senior captain of the Hofstra men’s cross country team. This is his memoir of his final season wearing the blue and white.

First Race

September 6, 2008

As I come out into the clearing of the Polo Field at Bethpage State Park, my throat tightens and I begin to get choked up. Crying, however, is not an option. I’m an emotional competitor, but the humidity has me sapped and I simply don’t have the energy.

I bear down for the last thousand meters, and try to salvage a respectable finish for an otherwise forgettable race.

Running fifth for Hofstra I pass two, maybe three opponents on that last loop, but the team scoring is irrelevant at this point. Adelphi has already beaten us, an embarrassment at our own meet.

Having crossed the finish line in a pathetic 17:28 for 5K, I stare at the ground as I clutch my knees. A few weeks ago I ran 16:28. My personal record is in the low 16’s for cross country, mid 15’s on the track.

I heave once, twice. Then again. If I had something in my stomach it’d be in the grass by now, but I just bear through the pain as my stomach spasms fade.

All-in-all, I didn’t run that poorly. The humidity was awful, especially on the trails in the woods. I’m in the midst of a 100-mile week, and that was after a week that was north of the century mark. I’m simply not ready to race at this point of the season, but still, I thought I could have done better.

This is a typical Saturday morning in the life of a collegiate cross country runner; all the anticipation and hope of doing great, followed by the utter shock and disbelief when the wheels fall off and everything goes wrong-a common occurrence.

We beat New Jersey Institute of Technology to win the 3rd Annual Hofstra Invitational for Division 1 schools, but as mentioned earlier, lost to Adelphi-Division 2-in the overall scoring.

I tell my 11 teammates, who I consider family, that there is nothing to worry about after this meet. “We’re fine. We were supposed to run crappy. We’re in good standing and good company. No need to push the panic button.”

This helps reassure me. Our first year head coach, Pete Alfano, worked us through this meet. That means instead of resting us and tapering to have us run well, he ran us into the ground leading up to this race. It’s a common strategy practiced by teams for meets of little importance. We’re putting more emphasis on running well when it matters most.

The Friday before the race, I ran five miles in the morning and close to nine in the afternoon, just to be sure. Tomorrow I will run 20. Sunday’s are meant for long recovery, to shake out the legs and “kick out the toxins,” as my high school coach used to tell me.

We don’t race again until September 20 at Van Cortlandt Park in the Bronx, NY, so I know the next two weeks will be hell. The mileage will stay high as the intensity increases, and I can’t let up.

I must stay focused. I’m in control of my destiny.

Unlike my past three years at Hofstra, this year is finally going to be a year to remember. Pete has a more comprehensive plan for us to peak at the ever-important CAA (Colonial Athletic Association) Championship Meet in Manassas, VA, right outside of Washington, D.C.

Our preseason-the first week of training together as a team after a long summer of putting in the mileage-was tough, but not mentally torturous as in years past.

Instead of alternating workouts with recovery days, Pete had us doing mostly long runs, with one tough workout in the middle, which was entirely effort-based rather than timed.

Preseason is something that in the past was survived. This August though, it was much more beneficial to our bodies and minds. It used to be that we would have to be whipped into shape quickly over several days, something that was painful. This year it was more of an easing-us-into the season process.

While some may say we’re in a rebuilding year, I beg to differ. Despite losing our captain, Kenyan, and two other seniors-all four tough losses-I see a better team each day I go to practice. The attitude has changed, and the sophomores have all matured over the last year.

Richard Schmitz qualified for Junior Nationals. He made it to the final heat in the 1500 meters before taking 9th.

Phil Giackette is a workhorse who can literally run until he drops dead, and Owen Graham and Eric Tremblay have both had solid summers in preparation for their breakout seasons.

The junior class is strong as well, with Tom Daly leading the way. He’s had his setbacks, but the kid can flat-out run. Unlike the rest of us, he’s inherently blessed with the gift of endurance running. He gets out of five miles what I get out of ten. Mike McCristall, in perhaps his last year, joins Daly as well as Adam Wasser and Robbie Wright-who ran his first cross country race of his life Saturday-in what I’d like to describe as the heart of the team.

The three freshmen, Ernie Pacheco, Greg Rogoz, and Fred Shattell have shown character as well as toughness during practices. They all raced superbly this past Saturday in their collegiate debuts, and I expect big things from them in the future.

Then there is me, the lone senior.

I’m not embarrassed to admit that since peaking my sophomore year, it’s been entirely downhill.

Last year, crying in my mom’s arms after a race, I wondered if I could do this anymore. I left the sport in December for unimportant reasons, only to find out that I needed to run. I got invited back in February to do one thing… lead this team.