Spartans Track and Cross Country Club

Sunday, Vacaville

Sunday, China Camp

What a difference a year makes. As the SPARTANS continue to age toward that final “Your Finished Line,” injuries continue to sap the remaining remnants of the SPARTAN senior harriers:
Sal is out with a possible season-ending IT band injury;
Leroy is out with ongoing back issues;
Art continues to struggle with debilitating hip pain;
Kurt can’t shake a hamstring injury that morphed into sciatica;
Lino’s 81-year-old legs demand a rest;
Albert continues to hobble his way back from a lengthy foot ailment;
Brian may possibly only run Golden Gate as the wear-and-tear of last year’s XC circuit             was just too punishing;
Steve, hopefully, may gently be back for a few runs after a long injury layoff;
Pat’s status as this goes to print is still “uncertain.”
However, we still have a healthy and strong-running pair with Nick and Don, and we’re still able to coax enough of the walking-wounded to field a team. So off to Santa Cruz for the 22nd Annual SCTC Cross County Challenge the SPARTANS went.

The Santa Cruz XC Challenge is the traditional opening to the PA/USATF XC season–– and it is not a gentle opening. Even getting to the starting line is a challenge as it requires an uphill, half-mile trek from the parking lot to the small meadow where the race will end (which is about 200m from where the race will begin). The race itself is a 4.15 mile, roly-poly, two-loop romp through the redwood trees above the UCSC campus. There are two significant hills––the first coming at the start!––which, of course, must be climbed twice on the two-looper run. The harriers are further challenged by rocky, root mined sections all along the meandering fire trail. But we were blessed with the ocean-kissed air of a cool, grey Santa Cruz morning, and, of course, once again reuniting with competing harriers, such as Bill Brusher, Julius Ratti, and former SPARTANS Norm Cornwell and Jeff Hongo. In addition, SPARTAN Sal Martinez, though unable to run, surprised us by going to his home course to cheer on, and prop up, his fellow SPARTANS.

Once again, Nick led the SPARTAN pack (string?) gliding through the course with impressive ease, even though he made a quick pit stop by running to our encampment to quench his thirst before beginning the second loop (so SPARTANesque). Kurt faded in the second loop, but like Art and Albert, persevered to the end. After checking to assure that each still had a pulse, the SPARTANS limped back to the distant parking lot to lick wounds and tell tales. Perhaps not a great run, but definitely a great day….

Results:

The SPARTANS watched in awe as Gillian Meeks crushed the competition in the women’s race with a blistering 25:23. Gillian runs for what I think may be a new team on the circuit (?): SRA Elite (Sacramento Running Association). The club must be small as they only brought seven harriers: two women who placed 1 and 3, and five men in the Open Division who gave the Hoka Aggies some good competition. The Hoka Aggies won the Open, placing 1 (Sean Davidson 21:47), 2, 10, 11, 12; SRA Elite was second placing 3, 4,12, 22, 29. Who are those guys? But perhaps the most impressive display of dominance was by the West Valley Track Club, led by David Cisewski (22:47), WVTC took the top 10 spots in the Men’s Masters!

I had been watching it for days with a disquieting uneasiness: a massive atmospheric river rolling down from the Gulf of Alaska––an atmospheric river primed to plummet the fields of Golden Gate Park like the falls of Niagara just in time for the running of the 24th USATF National Club Cross Country Championships. This would be no ordinary rainfall. Forecasters warned that this storm system was a tempest––a drenching downpour that would lash the Bay with wind gusts measuring a solid 10 on the Beaufort scale. This was a storm that would make the Rains of Ranchipur look like a spring mist.

As race day approached, my anxiety increased. Yes, I still had mild PTSD from the Rocklin race of 1999 when the wind howled with such ferocity even the great “half-inch spikes” Charles purposely took a wrong turn just to end the wind-blown torment. So two days before the race, I sent out the email: “Sorry SPARTANS, but with age comes wisdom. I’m staying home.”
Then on the eve of race day I told my son (unofficial SPARTAN Dean) of the madness that Don, Art, Sal, Brian, and Lino were going to literally weather the storm and run the race.
“What’s mad about that?” he asked.
“Are you kidding me? It’s going to be a cold, drenching, windy, muddy slop of a mess for five miserable miles!”
“Sounds like fun to me.”
That comment haunted me for the rest of the day. Was I now too old to see the fun in such a happening? Not the fun, perhaps, of creating the memory, but rather the fun of forever having it? No. “The day we ran the 2022 Club Championship” was not a story I wanted to be told; it was a story I wanted to help tell. At 7 a.m. the next morning, I sent Art a text: “I’m coming.”

The storm did not disappoint. Don from Burlingame and Sal from Santa Cruz drove up separately, while the remaining SPARTANS arrived with Art and began the half-mile trek through the wind and rain to the registration tent. We were a comical sight, wrapped in so much plastic we looked like walking Glad Bags as Lino tried to shelter under his mushroom umbrella which was hopeless against the swirling, wind-swept rain.

Registration was nearly as difficult as the run. Securing a wristband and a bib number on both the front and back of your singlet required a group effort as harriers fumbled with the tiny safety pins with icicle fingers and chased after the paper wristbands that would blow out of their hands. Then there was the occasional 45mph gust of wind that would catch the roof of the tent like a Spinnaker while the registration ladies grabbed the canopy frame and hung like monkeys to keep the tent from sailing into the Eucalyptus trees. By the time we returned to our campsite beneath a small, useless shelter of trees, it was 10 minutes to the starting gun.

The SPARTANS all ran the 8k in a field of 245, age 60+ harriers. Our race started in the East Meadow, ran around the Polo Field, down to Lindley Meadow, then down MLK Drive, then back up to the Polo Field, through the East Meadow again, the Eucalyptus grove, and somehow made it back to the Polo Field for the finish. Sections of the meadows were an energy-sucking, soggy quagmire, and the muddy trails followed flowing rivulets of water on the downslopes with occasional patches slick as black ice. It wasn’t long before the back of every harrier’s singlet looked like the mud flaps of a Proud Boys 4-wheel drive pickup truck. There were, of course, puddles everywhere, some as big as ponds and ankle deep (see photo). And the wind gusts blew so violently I hadn’t seen trees sway like that since I dropped acid back in ’69. At one point in the course the inevitable happened: a tree came timbering down on the course requiring the meet directors to alter the route of the remaining races for fear the Eucalyptus trees would start toppling like Tinker Toys.
At the conclusion the race, we all stumbled around like shivering loaves of soggy bread, dreaming of nothing but dry clothes and a warm room while a single thought was in the mind of each: “Why the hell do we do this?”
I don’t know the answer to that question. But when I got home, I took a hot shower and fell into bed. Then just before I fell into a dreamless sleep, I felt an involuntary smile slowly stretch across my cheeks. And then I said aloud, to absolutely no one in my empty home, “Damn, that was fun . . ..”

And the results of this Madness?
1. Don Donoughe: 38:34. Don continued to carry the blue-ribbon banner for the SPARTANS, and he put a cap on a very good season. We are SPARTAN proud to have Don continue on the team, and we hope to kick dirt with him for years to come.
2. Brian Conroy: 45:23. Always strong and steady, Brian’s upbeat, positive nature is perhaps the strongest thread keeping the frayed SPARTAN tapestry––and our singlets––from unraveling.
3. Sal Martinez: 50:27. What an inspiration and joy this harrier brings to the SPARTAN club. His very presence lifts the SPARTAN spirit, and I hope to see him run past me, with his always-encouraging word, in many future races.
4. Kurt Gravenhorst: 55:43. It’s a wonder he’s still around. That’s praise enough.

5. Art Sanchez: 57:13: Art deserves the SPARTAN courage award. Art ran in more XC races than any other SPARTAN this season despite a relentless, debilitating hip injury. Three times he fell on the mud-slick course, and each time he got up and endured. Simply heroic. He is a harrier at the very core of his being. We all wish him recovery in the off-season because running XC would not be the same without him.

6. Lino Favela: DQ. What can you say about this 81-year-old superman? He brings his peaceful, quiet presence to every race, and always reminds us that it’s not how well you finished that is important. What’s important is that you toed-the-line. I was surprised when I saw Lino standing at the finish line when I came in. I asked, “Lino, did you take a shortcut?” He simply smiled and said, “Who knows?”
Other notables:
––Bill Busher (Strawberry Canyon): 54:50
––Julius Ratti (Unattached); 47:47
––Mike Buzbee (former SPARTAN now with River City Rebels): 44:20
––Jeff Hongo (Hoka Aggies): 41:16 (10k course)

Merry Christmas to All, and to All a Good Night––and Happy New Year. And keep on keeping on . . . .

Kurt Gravenhorst

• The SPARTANS swarmed Lindley Meadow on a cool, crisp, cloudless

  morning in Golden Gate Park for the 36th Annual PA XC Championships. Yes,

  “swarmed” is the appropriate word as the Magnificent Seven (Art, Sal, Don, Lino,

  Brian, Nick, and Kurt) gathered to form the largest SPARTAN XC team to lace

  the shoes and kick the dirt since the days of Andrea and “half-inch spikes”

  Charles sported the SPARTAN singlet. Just two years ago, only Art and Sal kept

  the SPARTAN name on life support, journeying together to keep our teamless

  Club name alive in Covid year of 2020. Then last year Nick resurrected the

  SPARTANS from oblivion by taking on the Safe Sport requirements and putting

  our club on the circuit once again.

  So despite our cellar-dwelling performance this year, the SPARTANS are back.

  Be proud.

  

  Of course, things are a little different now. Gone are the PRs, the sub-

  seven mile pace, the mid-pack surge, and the 400-meter kick to the finish line.

  The discussion of tempo runs, repeat intervals, and hill training that once

  controlled the carpool conversation has been replaced with complaints of

  cramps, cortisone shots, and colonoscopies.

  But we’re still here.

  Be proud.

  The PA XC Championship is unlike all the other races. Once you arrive at

  the race site, you realize there is a unmistakable energy, and you sense a

  peculiar running vibe that lingers in the air as you carry your running bag to the

  registration tent and make camp among the hundreds of sleek harriers that

  stand, sit, stretch, and stride in all directions along the multi-colored canopy tents

  that line the hill overlooking the meadow. You can feel the competition, and you

  know this is your last chance to put in a good run, to beat that guy you’ve been

  battling all season, to cash in on every training day you’ve put in on the road, the

  track, and the trails. Most of the SPARTANS are quite familiar with the Golden

  Gate Park course: the start through Lindley Meadow, down Martin Luther King

  Drive, across the grass field, up the little single-track hill to the Polo grounds,

  then up the wide, Eucalyptus canopied trail, and finally back down to Lindley

  Meadow. And that familiarity may have been the problem for some.

  SPARTAN lore is filled with stories of SPARTANS going off course. Even

  the great “half-inch spikes” Charles faltered at Folsom and was tagged with a

  DNF. And who can forget the Championship race when Brian and Pat were

  chatting on the bleachers lacing their shoes when the starting gun went off. Now

  add this race to the SPARTAN history of missteps. First there was Sal who missed the turn up the hill on the second loop and started running down Lindley Meadow heading for the Pacific Ocean. I was trailing and saw Sal’s error. I immediately started yelling for Sal to come back. I felt like the little kid in “Shane” trying to keep Alan Ladd from riding away: “Sal! Sal! Come back Sal.” Sal finally heard me and corrected his error, but probably added 100 meters to his run. Lino and Art also had tired moments of confusion, but perhaps I set a new low-bar standard being the first SPARTAN to receive “You’ve been DQed” email from the PA/USA governing body. The problem was

  the new 8K course for the 60+ runners created a switch-trail chicane that was

  poorly monitored. The new course comprised two 1.5-mile loops (the west

  portion of the normal two-mile loop, cutting down to Lindley Meadow by the horse

  corral), then one normal two-mile loop. However, they did not anticipate that the
• slowest runners would be lapped, creating a confusion confluence of cross traffic

  at a poorly monitored intersection. So instead of going down the hill into the

  meadow for a second loop, I followed the flow of runners who were lapping me

  up the Eucalyptus canopied hill and down to the finish—cutting more than a mile

  off the course.

  Don’t be proud.

  Perhaps it’s an age handicap as Brian and Don had no problems, but they

  agreed that the course was not well monitored. Don, in fact, had an excellent run

  that culminated in a dramatic sprint-to-the-finish victory over a battling harrier

  (checkout the video on the PA/USA website to see his dash to victory.)

  

  Well, there were some defeated, harried harriers limping back home, but

  all agreed the day remained victorious.

  Through Brian’s WVJS connections, we

  have formed some supportive ties with the WVJS who field an impressive

  women’s team.

  Next up is the National Club XC Championships December 10. Running

  or not, come on out SPARTANS and see some of the best harriers in the nation.

  Fortunately, the course will NOT be the same—but I can’t guarantee we wont get

  lost . . .  Kurt Gravenhorst

  1. Don Donoughe 37:31

  2. Brian Conroy 41;51

  3. Nick Butterfield 48:11

  4. Sal Martinez 51:39

  5. Lino Favela 56:16

  6. Art Sanchez 57:54

  7. Kurt Gravenhort DQ

                           Art, Sal, and I were the only SPARTANS able to make the short sojourn to Martinez for the Matt Yeo Memorial Aggie XC Challenge, but the “Three Spartaneers” were determined to toe-the-line in what the Aggie Website waggishly calls “the greatest cross-country race in the world, or at least America, or at least one of the top-10 in Martinez . . . .”

If the Aggies were, perhaps, a tad snobbish in the description of their event, who could blame them? The Hoka Aggies––who were formerly the “Asics Aggies” who were formerly the “Reebok Aggies”––are arguably the premier running club on the PA/USATF XC circuit. What other club can boast three Olympians, seven National record holders, a National Club XC Championship (Women 2019), perennial victories at the Bay to Breakers 12K 13-man Centipede run (setting a world record in 1991 with their 26-legs snaking through the course in 37:40), and a running shoe sponsor! I’ve asked Jerome to see if he could get a sponsorship for the SPARTANS, but thus far he has only received some mild interest from a start-up company selling stool softeners and incontinence underwear at ReadySetGo.com

The old-timey SPARTANS will remember when this race was initially run on the Hoka Aggies’ home turf in Davis. It was moved to Shoreline for many years, and the SPARTANS were pleased to have a XC race in their own neighborhood. I wasn’t happy when the race was again moved because then my only knowledge of Martinez was the grimy site of the Shell Refinery visible from 680 with its massive, Roman Candle towers spewing billows of smoke and pitch over a hellish landscape. I imagined running through a veritable Valley of Ashes while sucking in the noxious fumes of the petroleum-tainted air.

Imagine my surprise, then, when the freeway turnoff eventually rolled into the bucolic village of Martinez, a little gem of a town nestled between the Carquinez Strait and the Alhambra Valley. Martinez was the home of renowned naturalist John Muir, the birthplace of Joltin’ Joe Dimaggio, and remains the source of pure Alhambra water. The city is one of the oldest in California, and even the occasional melancholy moan of the Amtrak train that runs along the edge of town adds to the homey atmosphere. Back in the day, this was a favorite race of SPARTAN Francisco Verduzco who would coax the team into lingering in town long enough to have lunch and savor its old town charm. Fond memories . . . .

But I digress. The XC run is a 4.2m, two-loop course around, over, and through the meadows, ponds, creeks, and marshlands of the Radke Martinez Regional Park. The pretzel-twisting path has some grass and paved-path running, but it is primarily a single-track trail run that is, fortunately, well guided with arrows and course directors. (I did manage to veer off course once, but was quickly corrected by a then-trailing Sal and Norm Cantwell.) Of great humor to the SPARTANS was one course director who acted like a teenage girl at a Taylor Swift concert every time he saw a SPARTAN runner: “Here come the Spartans!” he would yell. “Speed City! Tommie Smith! John Carlos! Go Spartans! Go Speed City!” We didn’t have the heart to tell the guy we’re not really connected to “Speed City”; instead, we just raised a fist in salute and jogged on.

The Martinez run is a flat, sea-level course, and one long stretch runs so close to the edge of the Bay you can hear the little waves lapping the shore. Well, in truth, the course is not totally flat; in fact, it has perhaps the most peculiar obstacle in XC racing: a steep, wooden arch bridge over Alhambra creek. When I saw this obstacle the first time I ran Martinez, I thought, “Oh look. A Japanese tea garden bridge. How adorable.” Then I reached this pace-busting, hump-of-a-bump and quickly renamed it, “Puto Puente!” The arch bridge is an echo of a once flourishing Martinez fishing village, and when the city was creating trails through the park in 1979, it had to install an arch bridge over Alhambra creek to allow the last active family fishing vessel to travel to and from the Bay. For Harriers, this is a bridge too far that creates troubled waters.

Well, it was a cool, gorgeous day to run underneath a blue-bird sky, but if Kurt, Art, and Sal were part of a centipede, they would be the butt-end of the bug. Nevertheless, they finished and picked up their Hoka hat swag bag at the finish line, and they could also say that they once raced against the 2010 U.S. National Marathon champion. Yes, leading the field was 41-year-old Sergio Reyes who last January won the USA Masters Cross Country title by nearly a minute. Sergio pulsed through the circuit like an electron, setting a new course record, covering the 4.2 miles in 19:43 (that’s a 4:42 mile pace!). That’s just a wee bit faster than the Three Spartaneers: Sal (40:46); Kurt (41:11); Art (46:34).

The Three Spartaneers returned to their cozy green-lawn encampment to watch the Open Men’s race, chat with familiar harriers, and listen to the Aggie tunes pumping from the loud speakers. It was another great day filled with memories, or, as the Buzbee Boys are fond of saying, “It’s a celebration of Life!”

And speaking of “The Buzbee Boys,” the following day was the Senior Track Meet in Hayward and both Mike and Pat were there scooping up heavy medals along with me and SPARTAN Brian Conroy. It was especially heartwarming to see Pat running the track once again. Maybe we didn’t put a scare into the Hoka Aggies in Martinez, but we sure kicked some ass in Hayward!     Vamos a Correr,                         reported by Kurt Gravenhorst