The Frozen Fifteen

I think it was 1978, but I could be wrong.  For my first 3 years at PSU, we had a "race" of sorts at the beginning of December which happened to be the "Airport Loop".

My log is quite sparse, but my memories aren't:

• December 10, 1977 - Airport Loop  1:36.
• December 4, 1978 - Airport Loop  1:36.
• December 2, 1979 - Airport Loop  1:34.

The Airport Loop was more than 15 miles.  Fifteen miles of desolate, unending, unshielded, monotonous miles.  Sure, maybe it would have been scenic in the early hours of a cool summer day.  But it was never scenic in early December.  Especially when the temperature reached single digits and the wind speeds were double digits.

Like I said, I think it was the 1978 one that stands out in my mind.  That's the day I saw gray skin on the Wolfe twins after the finish.  At the time, I could tell the difference between Al and Jeff Wolfe by the body part that turned gray in cold weather runs.  I can't remember which was which now, but the nose and ear alerted me at the time.  "Hi Al, how's the ear feeling?"  I'd say.  Or maybe it was Jeff.

When I reached the Creamery, with less than a half mile to go, my parents were standing in front of the Creamery cheerily saying "hello" as I desperately tried to hold it together, with icicles precariously hanging from my nose and ears.*   "I'M IN A RACE!" I garbled through frozen lips before limping home to Rec Hall and the impending semblance of warmth.

And then I heard it.  A wail.  An isolated, animalistic wail, coming from the back of the building.  A desperate, blood-curdling child-like cry.  It was Dave Felice, who had finished far ahead of me, and had been wearing those new kinds of shorts made with spandex or some such horrible material and had a built-in liner.  Scant protection for certain body parts other than the lips, nose and ears.  Frostbite and The Airport Loop are forever linked in my mind.

*In town for a Sports Weekend.

In Celebration of Walk-Ons

A very long time ago I hitched a ride from some high school buddies who were coming to State College early in the summer for some reason.  My goal was to see Coach Groves to ask him if I could walk on to the Cross Country Team at PSU.  I was just a couple weeks away from winning the Division B Two-Mile State Championship and had turned down several Division 3 coaches to run for them at smaller schools.  I had always planned to go to PSU anyway, with or without running.  I wouldn't turn 18 until half way through my Freshman year anyway, so I figured I had time to get a few more good runs in to impress Coach Groves, who I had only heard ominous murmurings about until that time!  I was unafraid however, and quite undaunted as I did get to see him at his office that day at Rec Hall.  It went well, with the admonition that I had better start increasing my mileage from the 70 or so a week I was running.  What was I getting into?

Things turned out well that first season, as I was the third Freshman on the team behind PSU greats Larry Mangan and Tom Rapp.  I actually fulfilled my career aspirations in the first two months of my PSU years.  Even though I only once more dabbled with actually scoring for our team in my Junior year, I was part of one of the best teams in the nation and made friends with some of the greatest people on Earth.  I strive daily to pay some of that back to PSU and all my friends and fellow alums with this blog and my efforts to support Clark Haley's Golf Tournament and the hopefully Annual Reunion we have helped create.

But I have a better story to tell, which I have only briefly alluded to before. I am responsible for the most identical twins in the history of PSU XC and Track!  No, I'm not their father, just their inspiration to talk to Coach Groves just as I did and ask to walk onto the team.

I was running an early morning run (Yes Coach, I really did run them every day for 3 1/2 years!) on the golf course one day,  I was on top of the world, flying past all of the joggers, scoffing at their measly efforts at the sport I loved.  On the return loop, I was climbing the hill parallel to Park Ave. where the tree roots always slowed me down a bit, and a gray clad runner flew past me.  It woke me up, but not nearly as much as the identical runner that again passed me just seconds later.  I couldn't tell them apart, and I probably still can't. 

I caught up to them with a little more effort than I wished and asked them who they were.  They weren't very talkative then or probably now, but I did get "Al and Jeff".  I told them right away that they should talk to Coach Groves, as I was sure they were what "walk-on" really meant.  I was delighted when at the next weeks practice there they were.  They both went on to have some really excellent runs for the Lions.  I will bet they don't even remember me telling them to talk to Coach, but the story is 100% certified accurate.  As Dave Barry would often say, "I'm not making this up!".

There are some other great Wolfe Stories out there, and maybe this will stimulate more of them.  They really are a great example of what walk on means, regardless as to whether anyone can tell them apart.