{"id":6481,"date":"2023-07-02T07:35:34","date_gmt":"2023-07-02T11:35:34","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/dahlman.online\/?p=6481"},"modified":"2023-07-02T07:35:37","modified_gmt":"2023-07-02T11:35:37","slug":"paybacks-2","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/dahlman.online\/index.php\/2023\/07\/02\/paybacks-2\/","title":{"rendered":"PayBacks"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

This is a Sunday Story – no politics here. Just a story of Cross Country teams and getting ready for the Conference Championships.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Peaking<\/h3>\n\n\n\n

When I was the head Cross Country coach at Watkins Memorial High School, the week of the conference meet was always a big deal. Most years we were competitive enough to win, but if was seldom easy. Our kids had to run their best, (and sometimes better. So we let them \u201cpeak\u201d a little bit – which means we backed off of our workouts so they had \u201cfresh legs\u201d. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

What I always remembered too late, was that when you lighten up on distance runners, they immediately have all sorts of energy. That can get crazy – the excitement of the Conference, that burst of vibrancy; all of a sudden instead of forty miles running a week, it was more like twenty-five. What to do with all of that pent-up power?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Rituals<\/h3>\n\n\n\n

So on Friday before Conference there was the \u201cteam dinner\u201d at my house. We made spaghetti and lasagna and hamburgers and whatever else appealed to the kids (oh, and Klondike Bars, lots of them). One thing about distance runners – they can consume their own weight in food.  Then there were the \u201chydration\u201d games. It was kind of like beer pong, but substitute Gatorade for the beer. No one got drunk, though a few lousy \u201cpongers\u201d nearly drowned in sports drink. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

But in between that last Friday practice and team dinner, the Cross Country team had an annual ritual to perform. We had to set up the Athletic Association\u2019s craft show at the high school.   The Craft Show was no small thing:  over 200 exhibitors would crowd the halls, cafeteria and giant-sized gym.  It was a big fund raiser for the Boosters.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Setup<\/h3>\n\n\n\n

Each athletic team had a duty.  Football players came in early Saturday morning  to help the crafters move in.  Soccer and other teams helped them move out when it was over.  Volleyball helped deliver food around, or kept the concessions going. The cheerleaders provided child care for the craft show goers. But since Cross Country was away at the meet all day, our job was to come in Friday night and set the whole place up.  <\/p>\n\n\n\n

So here I was with forty kids, geeked up on light practices, anticipation of dinner and fun, and the meet the next day.  And we met with the wonderful folks from the Athletic Association, who slowly, carefully, methodically, systematically, (and a whole lot of other \u201ccally\u2019s\u201d) wanted to set things up.  Somehow, the two attitudes didn\u2019t always mesh as a \u201cwell-oiled machine\u201d. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

The Plan<\/h3>\n\n\n\n

But, after a couple of years, I developed a plan.  The Boosters set up the same way every year: 2 chairs and a table every 12\u2019 down the hall, 8\u2019 squares in the gym, each with two chairs, and 8\u2019 squares along the cafeteria walls.  So instead of \u201cmethod and system meet energetic chaos\u201d, I made a deal.  We\u2019d set it up, just like the plan, on our own.  The wonderful Boosters could focus on what they needed to do, Cross Country would take care of our end.  <\/p>\n\n\n\n

And that\u2019s what we did.  I assigned seniors sections of the school, they took their underclassmen and got things set up the right way.  I took the \u201cflying squad\u201d, the kids I knew I had to personally keep an eye on.  We did everything that the Association folks asked, any kind of special \u201cmissions\u201d that required manpower and action.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

And so, we transformed the High School in forty minutes into a \u201cCraft-Showium\u201d.   <\/p>\n\n\n\n

And then we were done.  We all would sit in the cafeteria, like \u201ccats on a hot tin roof\u201d, ready to go eat, ready to go play, ready (really ready) to go win the Conference Meet, ready to do anything but\u2026wait.  And the wonderful Craft Show folks would want us to stay, in  case there was something else we might do.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Free to Leave<\/h3>\n\n\n\n

The kids were polite, but they were loud.  And as much as I tried to \u201cshush\u201d them, they were just too fired-up for calm.   I\u2019d start to get annoyed, until it dawned on me:  I wasn\u2019t really the one bothered by their noisy conversations. I heard kids like this all the time.  But it was disrupting the contemplative and systematic pre-craft show setup.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Finally, my friends in the craft show would decide that the team was more nuisance than help, and send us on our way.  And to be honest, after a couple of years, I didn\u2019t really try to control the noise.  We had \u201csetup\u201d down to a science, everything we could possibly do was done.  The Craft Show folks should \u201cfree\u201d the team, and let them explode all that energy somewhere else.  It was best for the kids, best for the Coaches, and ultimately best for the Craft Show too.  Then the setup could go on in peace.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Five Dogs<\/h3>\n\n\n\n

So why am I telling this story?  I came home the other day, after a long afternoon of doing manual labor, helping a friend get ready for a Veterans\u2019 Walk.  The event is on that same cross country course where I spent so many years training teams to Conference Championships.  We were cutting and trimming the woods back from the trails, filling in holes, and shifting platforms to cover the recent mud, just like the \u201cgood old days\u201d.  And when I got home, all I really wanted was a shower, and a beer.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The five dogs were excited to see me.  And, after they went out, they were willing to give me a moment to shower and put on clean clothes.  But when I sat down on the couch, they just wouldn\u2019t let me rest.  One after the other, they came over and DEMANDED attention.  Finally, they all ganged up on me, all five.  \u201cNo rest for the wicked\u201d, as my sister is fond of saying.  They wanted dinner, now, and I was the one to get it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I felt just like my friends in the Athletic Association at the Craft Show.  I knew what was going on, but I also knew that no amount of hollering or begging or cajoling was going to get my dog friends to leave me alone.  It was time to \u201cfree\u201d them to eat dinner, or more exactly, get their dinner for them. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

It was the only way to peace, and to that beer.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The Sunday Story Series<\/h5>\n\n\n\n