Head Case.

Is the sophomore slump real? Or just in the heads of those who believe in it? Chris Derrick seemed to do well for himself last year.

I feel okay. I'm a little flat, but that was the goal of my summer training. Flat in September, sharp in November. I have a habit of not getting much faster during the course of each XC season, and I want to change that.

Something IS odd with me though. The last 3 times my heart rate went north of 180, I threw up. Once on a hard 10-miler, once on a 4.5m tempo workout, and once on 1000m repeats on grass.

Naturally, I was a bit worried when I toed the line for our 4mile dual against Westmont college, along the boardwalk of Santa Barbara's beach. It's 8am, and my warm-up was shrouded in mist as I skimmed along the sandy pavement with the ocean breeze softly brushing the fog away. Slowly.

This race is the definition of the word casual. No one has uniforms yet, the impromptu throwing together of a rag-tag group of 100men and women with 3% body fat pushed inbetween trees by an old friendship among coaches. This is a test for both of us.

Our team is looking great this year, and I'm finding myself falling behind in workouts, even with times faster than I ran last year, faster than they ran last year. I'm nervous, but mostly with anticipation.

My hand rubs my stomach unconsciously. I hope I make it through this one. I shake my head.

Brush it off. Go through the motions of your warmup. 2 hops. That's right. Shed your warmups. Stride out. 2 more hops. Man, these Hyperspeed flats got their name for a reason.

The gun is a wizened coach, counting from 3 and yelling GO.

I dash out, slower than the other kids. It's a half mile around the tether ball courts, through the playground and around the portables. Of course, at the time all I know is that it takes a few minutes. The other boys are so far ahead, I can't sprint that fast. But they come back. They always come back. We pass the tether ball and I'm already past half of them. Why don't they see how dumb they look when I pass them? Always excited, just to get run down by the thinnest kid. I like this game.

I'm out comfortably. I sit behind another sophomore who has been running well. Mile 1 - 5:05. That was pretty smooth. Another 600m and I'm at the hill. A steady incline for just under a kilometer, then flat shot 100m to the 2mile turn around.

As the hill comes I just keep my momentum going, passing two of my teammates and one Westmont kid. I'm not making a move, I'm just not slowing down my cadence. Just keep trucking.

10:23. This still feels alright. I turn, and take the down hill with a lean. Slowly I'm gaining on more people. If I can just hang on to these guys infront of me, I know I have better speed than they do. I always have better speed than they do.

I run behind 2 opposing teammates, working together. But they start slowing down. Why are they slowing down.

I can't stay here. They're fading and if I stay here I'll get caught by the group behind me. Just keep your tempo up. Keep rolling. Just keep rolling.

I approach the 3mile, alone in what an injured teammate who's watching tells me in 14th place. 14th? That's gotta be wrong. I'm not that fast at this sorta stuff.

I slowly gain on another group of 4. I catch them right after the 3mile, vaguely hearing 15:34.

All of the sudden the pain is there. Deep, deep burning pain and I'm going to throw up. When I throw up my body convulses as if I'm being shot in the chest, and I seize up and have to stop. I can't throw up, I can't throw up. Not now. I'm running well. I'm comfortable at this pace.

I slow for a good 400m, hoping a bit to quell the vomit that is to come. I hang behind 2 of the guys that got dropped from the others. After 400m, we see the 800m-to-go marking.

I move. Hard. My upper body form is shit. It's falling apart. By my cadence is pure, light, and fast. That's all that matters. Focus on that.

A green singlet is coming back to me, and pretty quickly too. 400m to go. We get off the boardwalk and onto choppy grass. I breeze past him. I don't care who he is, he's done.

There's no one infront of me. Where am I? Where's the finish? I'm running through the trees and I can hear voices and see shadows in the fog. Why am I not done? Where is the e-THERE. GO. GO.

Only final 100m push, and I'm done. 20:46. 11th place.

I'm told I was our 7th guy. 7th guy? But....7 guys go to nationals.

Wait, I have to potential to go to Nationals?

But I thought I wasn't good at cross country. What happened to the sophomore slump?