It was Brevard, North Carolina, sometime in the 70’s. I won’t tell you exactly what part of that decade otherwise you’ll peg my tender age. I saved up enough money doing paper routes and mowing lawns to become an attendee of the Blue Ridge Trails running camp, designed for High School distance runners who hoped to improve their performance and learn from some of the greats in the field at the time. Young runners from across the country flocked to this camp with dreams of becoming elite runners. My first time in an airliner, that enough was a thrill for me as a sophomore in high school. Having just finished the season as the number 2 runner on my high school cross-country team, and with the graduation of number one, it was my time to show my coach and school, what potential I thought I had.
As a point of reference, Frank Shorter had just won the 72 Olympic marathon and America was boiling in a resurgent running craze, also ignited by the late Steve Prefontaine. Of course, that craze grabbed me, and I ran early in the morning, late at night, up sand dunes, down miles of beaches and as long as I could. In fact, sometimes I had no idea where I was going, but would just take off and run down the country roads for miles, sometimes entering another town, then turning around, and heading back. Never took water. It slowed me down. I learned how to avoid menacing dogs by carrying a stick when necessary, and raising my voice to scare them when they threatened to attack me and that usually worked.
It seemed when I was in my running zone, I had an aura of invincibility and the dogs sensed it and I was never touched by foamy saliva coated canine teeth. I read books from famous coaches of the day: Percy Cerutti, Bill Bowerman, and Arthur Lydiard and absorbed every training technique possible into my young and naive brain. By the time I arrived at the camp, I had already familiarized myself with most of the great distance running names over the years as well: Paavo Nurmi, Emil Zatopek, Herb Elliott, Roger Bannister, Jim Ryun, Ron Clarke, Steve Prefontaine, and of course Frank Shorter who became America’s only Olympic Marathon champ, and thus took over as the king of American distance running.
There were famous runners invited to this camp to motivate us, I guess. Too many years have erased some of their names because I didn’t have much contact with some of them. I remember only two: Dick Buerkle and Jeff Galloway. Let’s talk about Buerkle first. He was a 1976 Olympian, his personal best in the mile was 3:54.9, and that was an American indoor record in 1978. I learned during the first day of introductions that Jeff Galloway was also there. He ran the 10,000 meters during the 1972 Olympics and trained with Frank Shorter and legend has it that after qualifying for the U.S team in the 10k, he slowed down to help his teammate qualify for the marathon, thus giving up his spot. He also broke the U.S 10 mile record in 1973. After learning that, I couldn’t believe how lucky I was that he was assigned to our cabin as cabin counselor!
I don’t remember the names of my cabin mates so many years hence, but one of them we named Moon Goon and he introduced all of us, including Galloway, to championship quality teeth grinding all night. Moon Goon may have become a famous movie star in the Home Alone series, because he sure looked like on of those guys. We went off on our training runs in the beautiful Blue Ridge Mountains, ate in the dining halls, took turns cleaning up and had our share of shenanigans and practical jokes. And yes, mosquitoes and homesickness took their toll on me, and I wrote home as much as I could during that two-week period.
As far as Galloway, I thought he was super cool. An Olympian in our cabin, eating with us and talking with us as if we were one of his colleagues. He taught me some about nutrition and vitamins, but the phrase that he used most often with us was “Get your program together!” Usually this referred to our behavior, but also attitude and intensity about our running goals, but hell, that all sounds great, but it was a phrase that soon glued to me forever, and I’m not sure to this day, why that is.
Near the end of the camp, we had a five mile and ten mile race for all the campers with a trophy and introduction at a ceremony at the end. I knew I had no chance to win either race with all the high quality runners there but I entered the ten mile. What the hell, none of my friends were there, no one knew me accept of course, Galloway, my cabin counselor and hero. I started out in the middle of the pack, and the course I remember, involved rolling backcountry hills, winding through the town, then back out into the hill country again at the half way point, where I found myself about 10th . I do remember a runner who stayed with me through the first 5 miles and we went stride for stride, sometimes he would go ahead of me, then I would reel him back in, and take the lead away from him and it seemed we were in our own little race, 9th and 10th. We never said a word. during the race. We both wanted it badly and we both sensed we were in for a fight because we were evenly matched and both of us gradually caught the leaders at about mile six. I guarded my heavy breathing and tried to show him how relaxed I was during the fast pace, hoping to catch any psychological advantage possible.
He was number one now, in front of probably several hundred runners, with me only a yard or two behind and we had about three and a half miles to go. Much to my chagrin, he continued to pick up the pace like a machine, and I struggled to keep up, but I wouldn’t allow myself to fall out of striking distance, despite the burning in my chest. But I’ll never forget the onset of the heavy rain, at about mile eight, and that’s when I knew I had him.
I knew I had him completely then. Whenever it rained, or snowed, my body went into turbo gear for some reason because I just loved it – the sweat and rain soaked shorts and shirt stuck to the skin and mud from the road splattered on my face. I felt an overwhelming surge from within and despite the wisdom of staying behind him and waiting till the last 800 yards to try to out kick him for the win, I disregarded wisdom and just broke away from him, went into turbo mode while I was overcome by the exhilarating feeling of leading a race of my peers who traveled from all over the country to run. Initially I could hear his breathing behind me for a while and the patter of his feet on the ground, but I rejoiced when I no longer heard either again.. I couldn’t believe that my legs just continued to accelerate despite my fatigue, and I surprised myself by winning the Blue Ridge Trails 10 miler by about 800 yards in the pouring rain. I’m sure there were better runners in the field, but that day, I was the best that day for some reason, maybe due the rain and mud. Basically I learned that on any given day, with God given talent, you can be better than you think you are, depending on your attitude. And yes, at the start of the school year, I took over the number one spot, not to relinquish it.
I cherished that trophy more than most over the years. And I especially cherished the handshake by Jeff Galloway who congratulated me and said, “Looks like you got your program together, Carson. For the remaining day or two, I felt like royalty in the cabin, having won new found respect by my fellow campers, and especially Galloway. He decided to auction off some of his Olympic gear and yes, I out bid everyone else and bought his smelly Adidas SL72 running shoes for a couple bucks and an Onitsuka tiger athletic bag that I used with pride for many years after. The shoes didn’t fit me, but I still thought it was cool to own them because Galloway wore them.
I haven’t talked to Galloway since I left camp, but I have heard that he’s been a successful running coach with clinics throughout the country and has operated many athletic shoes stores and has been a race consultant for multiple major organizations. This is a memory exercise, yes, but it’s funny how certain experiences and phrases stick in your mind forever. I never achieved anywhere near the running success that Galloway did. He was a world class runner and I didn’t come close to that success. But I learned some things during that camp which helped me along the way achieving my own successes, saving a few lives along the way. But I’ll never forget the phrase he taught us: Get your program together!
Even my late mother caught on to the phrase I mentioned after I returned home from the camp and would tell it to me when I veered off course in life. So Jeff, if you read this, I hope you are well, and I think we both got our programs together.
SRC