Courtesy of Runners Gazette Magazine

Jack Heath, January, 2007

“We’re following in your footsteps. Cause that’s where your footsteps go.”

Ian Hunter- “Following in your footsteps”

No book came closer to describing what its like to coach a small school high school cross country team while not teaching in the school, than Marc Blooms’ “God on the Starting Line”. Still, as I finished his thoroughly enjoyable book I couldn’t help but think there was something missing. It occurred to me exactly what it was as I stopped to pick up a stray safety pin on the grass at a cross country meet a few days later. Only a long term cross country coach would stop to pick up a stray safety pin on the grass. They know they’ll need the pin for race numbers eventually, while other coaches and runners probably never even notice the pins. Marc only coached for a couple of years. He overcame obstacles, had great success and moved on doing a great job of capturing the experience in his book.

However, one thing I had learned from my coach, Browning Ross is you have to be there for the long haul— a coach must stay through the (mostly) lean and sometimes boom years. But keep coaching no matter what, because you never know. I was in my last year of college at Rowan (then Glassboro State) finishing up my last season of cross country as captain of the team when Browning asked me if I’d like to help him coach at Gloucester Catholic, my alma mater where he had coached me. “No thanks!” I said. “I just want to run; I can’t see high school kids listening to me anyway, so I’d rather just concentrate on my own running.” Browning nodded in what I thought was agreement. “I’ll swing by at 3 tomorrow to get you for practice.” “What? No! I said I didn’t want to do it. Thanks anyway though. I just can’t.” Browning nodded again, and this time I knew he could see what strong reservations I had about coaching. “Ok” he said slowly. “Make it 3:15; we’ll take ‘em on that woods loop.” I threw my hands up in disgust, but went with him the next day and started a coaching journey that has lasted over 27 years. He knew what was best and I can only imagine what I’d have missed if he hadn’t asked or had paid any attention to my protestations.

While the most fun I’ve had was the years I coached with Browning (3 different stints together in 20 plus years) the good years strangely enough weren’t that much more memorable than the lean years. I think that’s what coaching is all about. That’s something I learned from Browning, my coach. Someone once said, you really only get one true “coach” in your life. You wonder if any of the hundreds of people you’ve coached consider you “the” coach. Browning told me his first day of coaching at Gloucester Catholic his team lost to Paul VI High as they had the first 11 runners tie for first against his team. Browning stayed optimistic and within 3 years his teams were winning 18 and 19 meets and of course beating Paul VI.

Two summers ago we were returning only one boy from our team, graduating six senior boys. I happened to meet the mother of the returning runner- Matt during the summer and her first question was whether her son Matt was going to have any teammates. “No problem.” I said, “I said some prayers to St. Theresa. I think we’re going to be fine.” Matt’s mom went home and said. “Matt, Coach is a nice guy but I think he might be losing his marbles.” Strangely enough that week we got eight phone calls from people who were interested in coming out for the team and ended up with eight runners. This year we had 13 girls and 14 boys on the team.

There are few things like the bond between a coach and his or her team. A number of years ago our team looked crestfallen right before the meet as they handed me the check for the official’s fee given to them, to give to me from the Athletic Director. “Coach we looked at your check. We think you deserve a lot more than 30 bucks for coaching us.”

Another team, another time: I shook hands with the visiting coach who was three times my weight minutes before the start of the race. He apologized for his runner popping out of the woods to start the race with a half mile to go the previous year. No hard feelings as we shook hands a second time. As I came back to my team I could see they were concerned. “Coach what was that all about?” “We just made a little wager” I said. “Losing coach has to carry the winner on his shoulders around the field.” The kids didn’t know I was kidding. They went out fast and never let up winning what should have been a close race easily. I had forgotten about my attempt at pre race humor until the first breathless runners came up to me and said “Coach, we got you off the hook!”

Browning never burdened us with last minute race instructions. He felt they did no good. While they may make the coach feel better—that he has done all he can (“Take a deep breath, stand up straight, lean back, head for the tree line, run smart, get out fast, double knot your shoes blah blah blah…”) I am sure that these instructions are counter productive if they increase the anxiety level of the runner. Runners like routine. We go over race strategy in advance of the race, not on the starting line. At championship meets I tell our runners “It cost a little extra but I got you a good spot on the starting line!” The first year runners look over towards the officials (who they didn’t suspect could be so easily bought), the veterans just smile. It helps to relax them. Browning used to always say before a race: “Good looking guys (or gals) up front” then name a few people that should be in the back for the same purpose-- a routine that relaxes.

Browning always liked to discover new places to run. Frequently he would call me to check out a new course. “Do you want to take a ride down to Thorofare (NJ) to see if we can get 3 miles out of that loop along the Delaware? I’ll stop over and pick you up in 20 minutes.” Browning always picked unusual places to run which made the practices fun, and gave us something to look forward to each day in school. We have tried to keep that tradition going. For one of our practices this year the team ran over the Ben Franklin Bridge into Philadelphia and took a ferry boat back.

We traveled to all the practices and meets in Browning’s Volkswagen van. My clearest memory of high school cross country is sitting up front with Browning in the van as he multi-tasked. “Where the heck is that meet result with Woodstown?” (while reaching back with his right hand to search for a newspaper he had folded between the seats, he finds it and then makes a last minute correction to avoid an oncoming car) “ I think we can beat them if our fifth man stays up with you guys.” We went to Belmont Plateau, which Browning considered the toughest course in the area, a few times a year. A few years ago I was driving the team on a small bus to Belmont on a foggy Saturday. I was approaching one of the ramps that lead to the Walt Whitman Bridge when we suddenly spotted a Chihuahua in the middle of the ramp. Many of the kids in the front of the bus screamed as there was no chance to stop. We ran right over the poor dog. And I mean right over. I looked in the rear view mirror to see him slowly trotting away with a “what the heck was that” look on his face. Of course, the kids hadn’t noticed that he was fine. “It’s ok everybody” I said, “It was just a small dog.” This was met with a response of “Ugh! Coach, how could you?! Being small made it worse!!”… etc. It was a few minutes later when I told the team he was ok.

I got out of the bus driver business altogether when I had a fire on a bus coming back from a practice at Holmdel. I quickly got all the kids off the bus and on to the shoulder of 295 when the bus burst into flames.

No matter how long you coach, you can never be sure how effectively you are communicating. The night before a meet I received a call from one of my top runners asking what she should do for a sore knee. I told her “ice and aspirin”. Half an hour later she called almost hysterical: “Coach I did what you said and it didn’t help. I put the aspirin on my knee and chewed the ice and nothing happened!” I took the extra time to explain the proper role of aspirin and ice in the procedure this time. Some of the most enjoyable parts of coaching are discussing race strategy with your runners, seeing them progress through sound physiology and progression.

But 80 % of coaching, as Woody Allen might say is just trying to get people to show up. Runner: “Coach I won’t be able to make the meet this Friday, I have a Stones concert.” Coach: “Are you playing with them?” Runner: “No, just watching.” Coach: “I’m going to the concert too. It doesn’t start till 8, race is over by 5. See you both places Friday.” This reminded me of when Jim Plant, a great runner on one of Browning’s powerful 70’s teams came to Browning and mentioned that he was tired from attending a Who concert the night before Browning did his best Abbot and Costello routine with the Who’s name “Who? Who’d you see?” Plant, finally exasperated said “It was Tommy Dorsey!” and proceeded to do the first Tommy Dorsey “air trumpet” re-enactment. Browning loved to retell this story to subsequent teams.

Some of the coach/athlete interactions recur so frequently I’ve given them names. Like a wrestling gambit or a sandwich in a deli. There is the Houdini. With this scenario the runner creates a complicated scenario from which it is almost impossible for the coach to extract himself. “Coach, can’t make the meet this Saturday, got a wedding.” Coach: “You have a wedding and are just finding out about it now? What time is the wedding?” Runner:“1, I think.” Coach: “You’ve got time, the meet starts at 10.” Runner: “But Coach, I have to try on a lot of dresses and our relatives are coming in from Latvia. It’s a Latvian custom that everyone has to be there a day in advance, so they’ll be using our cars and I have no way of getting there, did I mention the hair appointment?.” Even when your head stops spinning, it’s still tough to extract and process the logic from a “Houdini”. Almost as insidious is the “Faustian”. In this gambit the runner offers you a deal—a carrot in the future for a free pass now. It goes something like this:

“Coach I won’t be able to make the meet this Saturday, but I’m pretty sure I can make next weeks more important meet.” A wet behind the ears coach will take the bait, excuse the runner this weekend and of course never see her the following week either. Coaches who are lawyers have a distinct advantage in these situations. There is no bigger disappointment to a coach than having runners not show up. No matter how good a coach or motivator you are, you have no chance if people don’t show. A few years ago we had 3 boys finish in the top ten of the south jersey cross country championships but didn’t have a full team (and thus didn’t count) because we also had two boys in the hair salon at the same time getting ready for that nights homecoming dance. As a coach you can’t take anything for granted. One kid on a small team is equal to about four on a big team. One kid who always shows up is priceless. A coach will often spend the majority of time on the unreliable kids however.

Browning started a tradition while coaching us of putting all the race results in a booklet and giving it to the team as a keepsake at the end of the year. I try to keep the tradition going. One year Brian, who wasn’t known for his kick, went crazy and passed 4 runners in the last half mile of the race, making them look like they were in slow motion. When I asked him what had gotten into him he replied: “Coach for some reason when I got near the end of the race I visualized you writing “Brian had a great kick and blew by 4 runners at the end of the race in our results booklet, so I did.” And I did as well. The most enjoyment I’ve had in coaching was working with Browning.

Our school rarely gets polished runners. (Some other schools seem to get talented, accomplished runners as frosh every year who seem to do their best running right after they enter the school their first year. Those coaches in turn, seek out more runners like those and there really isn’t much coaching involved, as much as recruiting.) In some ways the naiveté of our runners is more refreshing and rewarding. Before a meet one of the boys asked “Coach what happens if we lose this meet?” Meaning what would be the implications for the conference race etc. Sensing a good opportunity I replied: “I think there could be a big coaching shakeup if we lose this race.” I turned around to see Browning behind me, his hands in a prayer like pose of supplication of “please let it happen”. Everyone burst into laughter.

Browning always told runners complaining of aches and pains (that suddenly arise from pre meet nerves) to “rub peanut butter on it.” They’d reply: “That’s it-- just peanut butter?!” The runners stopped complaining, although you could often detect a slight whiff of peanut butter at practice. 24 years later I couldn’t believe my eyes when I read an Australian sports medicine study that recommended rubbing peanut butter on sore muscles for recovery. I cut out the article and gave it to Browning. He took the article with a smile and said “See—I told you!” For one Easter break track practice we were disappointed to see only 2 kids at practice. As Browning and I pulled up, we joined two other coaches, making four coaches and two athletes at the practice. Browning bounded out of the car went up to one of the kids and playfully said “I saw him first!! Not sure what you other guys (coaches) are going to do today, but I found someone to coach!”

Together we also had a better chance of collecting all the uniforms at the end of the year, one of a coaches toughest battles. For some reason kids often hold onto the uniforms, which they will never wear again, with a tenacity that would have made them champions if displayed in a race. Once while in the Gloucester City Goodwill store in search of trophies to assemble for his races, Browning noticed some of our track uniforms on sale! These had been sold to the Goodwill instead of being turned in. Browning bought them back.

I realize now that much of my coaching philosophy came from Browning and I have adopted it simply because it worked. I also realize that some of that philosophy was passed to Browning from his coach at Villanova Jumbo Elliott and from other world class runners that Browning competed against in his Olympic career. I still marvel at other coaches with completely different philosophies.

Besides staying low key before races Browning believed in not tiring yourself out by walking the course before the race. While usually good advice, at least one time this advice backfired as I missed a course record in Woodbury because he felt we didn’t need to see the course, even in a car, because it was easy. “Turn at the street with the college name and then make a quick turn to the finish at the pole with the firebox”. I discovered late in the race that most of the streets on that side of town shared a name with a college and they all had fireboxes. I had to stop and wait for the second runner to catch up. I followed him as he picked one of the streets in the middle then sprinted for the finish missing the record. When I dejectedly approached Browning after the race with this information, he just started to giggle. “Well, I know you would have set the record and you know it, and the kids behind you know it but 10 minutes after this race no one will remember it anyway, so you haven’t lost anything. We did win the meet too”. “It’s my fault, (as his eyes twinkled and he started to smile) Jeez, I forgot this might be the dumbest team I’ve ever coached!” We both started to laugh

He also believed success as a runner was determined by your fitness and not by running a course multiple times. We both got a chuckle out of a coach who was reported in the paper as saying “My team didn’t do well in the state meet because we only went up to Holmdel to see the course 4 times (Holmdel is 2 hours away) instead of our usual 5-6. Browning said “That bird-brain would have been better off letting his kids run and get in better shape than transporting them back and forth to the course all that time. Only the leader has to know the course and that course is so well marked even he doesn’t have to worry. All those visits to Holmdel were for the coach’s psyche.”

Browning never yelled at his runners. He had a quiet faith in his runners that empowered them to in turn believe in themselves. You never wanted to let him down. In a high school cross country race, I once trailed two runners in the first half mile of a race by what seemed to me to be a worrisome distance. As I passed Browning he just smiled. His look said “I know you have this.” Within the next half mile I had closed the gap and won the race setting the course record. There was no panic or screaming from the coach, just a quiet faith. Browning once tried to use psychology to shock me into a better performance my first year on the track team-- but it backfired with comical results. In a dual with a squat runner who turned out to be a wrestler, both runners refused to give in. He would pass me on a straightaway and I would pass him right back—in the middle of a turn, back and forth in the same straight away. Then with 2 laps to go when Browning suddenly said “Come on Jack, beat that fat kid!” My opponent yelled back “Fat kid, my ass!” and went into a near sprint for the last two laps. I was unable to catch him. I was shocked to see I had broken 11 minutes, and even more shocked when my rival, a wrestler, came up to me and said “Nice race! Hey, where is that old guy that called me fat?!!” Browning laughed and told the story of that race for years to come.

Any runner who has a coach that he can talk strategy with has a big advantage. I’ve found that the majority of runners won’t pursue any more of a strategic discussion than “Coach, when is this over?” But it was great to know that I could call Browning up at any time and discuss strategy. He was a firm believer in training over the summer on your own and running road races to improve. It is surprising to me how few runners will do either even though they say they want to be good and they know that their hard work will pay off. One year we received a thank you card from the team. On this card all the runners on the team promised to run 300….350 and even 500 miles over the summer. Except for a truthful runner named Tom who simply signed his card “Tom Magee, the man who makes no promises.” Unfortunately his fall races reflected a man who also did no training!

This unspoken bond is one of the best parts of coaching. Here is an example: Years ago I was delayed on my way to practice by an accident on the Walt Whitman Bridge. We waited for 45 minutes, not moving and I was sure my kids had waited but had eventually given up and caught rides home wondering what had happened to their coach. When I finally arrived at school in those pre cell phone days, I was shocked and proud to see the whole team boys and girls waiting for me quietly stretching by the trophy case for my arrival. They told me more than a few teachers had tried to shoo them away with entreaties of “Your coach isn’t coming, why don’t you all just go home?!!” Moments like these are why a coach keeps coming back. Every day that I coach I have the feeling that my coach is still by my side. One of my teachers at Gloucester Catholic, David Coghlan once told us: “If you can do something well, you have an obligation to do it. You no longer have a choice.” I think Browning subscribed to this same philosophy and this is what he tried to tell me when he refused to take no for an answer a long time ago.