One, Maybe Two, for the Little Guy

I was never the big sports jock.  In Jr. High I didn't hate PE but it was not my favorite class either.  I was just not good at basketball, football, soccer, softball, etc.  or even at the fitness test we had to do each term.  I wasn't bad. I mean I understood the basic rules to all of these sports and I could play them but I was just a guy out there playing them trying not to look too clumsy doing it.  I was not the very worst but I was probably in the bottom half.

In last half of the 1978-79 school year (my 7th grade year) I started running. During the summer of 1979 I ran several road races.  At each of these Races I got a race t-shirt.  Since t-shirts with just about anything printed on them  were a pretty popular clothing item in Jr. High, these race shirts became the back bone of my wardrobe.  I also had to wear a white t-shirt for PE so I rotated through 2 or 3 of the white Race shirts for my PE shirt.  What this meant was that everyone in 8th grade knew that I was a runner.  We also had to wear blue shorts as part of the PE uniform.  While most guys had navy blue shorts, I and maybe 4 or 5 other guys had light blue shorts.

One day near the beginning of my 8th grade year the two PE coaches (Coach Parker and Coach McNaughton) announced that each week (I want to say it was Tuesdays but I am not certain) the whole class would do a timed mile run.  Finally something I was good at.  There was one class of about 40 guys for each Coach, so 80 guys total.  They did not have us run on the track. I suspect this was because it would have been too hard keep track of how many laps everyone had done.  Instead they had a  mile course marked out around the school grounds. 

We took off running and for once I was doing really well.  I didn't win but I finished in the top ten.  For me, being in the top ten in anything in PE was a new and a pretty exciting experience.  As I was walking around a little, cooling down and feeling good about myself,  one of the two 9th graders that were TAs for the class approached me and said, "Hey Cannon, I saw someone cut through the school instead of going around.  He was wearing light blue shorts so I think it was you because you never do this good at anything. "  Wow, I was not feeling so good anymore.  But I quickly got mad.  I really did run in the top 10 and I was not going to let this guy accuse me of cutting the course.  Also, one mile was a pretty short distance for me at the time.  My normal runs were between 3 and 10 miles at this point.  So, I told him that I had not cut the course and that if he would like to run against me I would be happy to run again and that I was sure I could beat him. (I'll admit this was an easy offer to make. The TA was a bit over weight and was not wearing running gear.  Class was also going to be over in about 15 minutes so there was not really time to run again.)  At this point Coach Parker came over and asked what the problem was.  The TA told his story about seeing someone in light blue shorts cutting the course and that he thought it was me. He even had the nerve to repeat. "He never does this good in PE."  This was enough for me to repeat that I would be happy to run against him if he thought he could beat me.  Now if this had been a movie or a TV show  Coach Parker would have agreed that we should race.  Then, in front of the other 80 guys I would have run my second mile for the day.  I would leave the TA eating my dust and as he staggered across the finish line he would have tripped into a convenient mud puddle and looked up at the camera sweaty, dirty and sorry he had ever doubted me.  Instead Coach Parker said, "It wasn't Cannon, I saw it and it was Barber over here.  I'm already taking care of it."  That was almost the end but the Coach did know I was a runner so he was nice enough to add, "And if you guys raced Cannon would beat you."

Throughout that year we ran each week and I consistently finished in the top 10 but never even in the top 5.  I wondered about this and realized that the guys who were still beating me were the guys who were at the top of everything in PE.  These were the natural athletes who were just physically good at everything.  Even though I had been running, one mile was not enough distance for my training, at that point, to overcome their natural ability.  One of them was Mike Wadman.  Now Wadman was probably a nice guy. I really didn't know him because we hung out with different people. Like any other 8th grade guy though, he liked to hassle people when he got the chance.  He was never mean about it or anything but he used to point out that I was supposed to be the runner but he could still beat me at the mile run.  Well, by this time I figured that natural ability could only get a guy so far so my theory was that if I could run 3 miles it would be enough distance for my training to overcome his natural ability. Nobody likes to run except a runner so he was probably not doing any real running except for the weekly mile runs.  I told him that I was a distance runner and that the mile was too short.  If we ran at least 3 miles I could beat him.  He laughed a little and I didn't hear much more about it.

A couple of weeks before school got out for the year the Coaches announced that instead of a mile run we were going to run two miles.  I was actually pretty excited.  This 2 mile course was on the road and even included running up 800 North just west of the school. A hill which was part of my runs several times a week.  It was also a beautiful day for a run.  I pushed myself a bit and came in Third! But unfortunately Wadman came in Second.  He even approached me afterwards and pointed out that he beat me...again.  All I could think to say was that I was closer this time and that it still wasn't 3 miles.

I really figured that this was the end of it.  They had built a new High School, Mountain View, and the next year I would be there as a Freshman and Wadman, because he lived on the opposite side of State Street from me, would be at Orem High.  I really didn't think I would ever see him again, let alone run against him again.  But I was wrong. I did see him again and it was at a Road Race.

It seems like every city in Utah County has its own City Festival in the Summer.  Orem has Summerfest, Pleasant Grove has Strawberry Days, American Fork has Steel  Days and on July 24th Spanish Fork has Fiesta Days.  All of these had a Road Race as part of the celebration.  On July 24th, since it was also Pioneer Day in Utah, there were several Road Races.  Mom, Dad, and I liked the Speedy Spaniard Race in Spanish Fork that was part of the Fiesta Days celebration.  Although it is now a 10K race, back in the Summer of 1980 it was 5.5 miles.  It was a beautiful course through the back roads and farms of Spanish Fork, and it ended on the parade route with the finish line at the City Park in the middle of town.  When we arrived that day (July 24, 1980) to register for the race I saw Mike Wadman in the crowd.  Not only was he in the crowd but he was wearing a  race number.  Now remember, my theory was that I could beat Wadman in a race longer than 3 miles because he did not train for races so my training would overcome his natural ability.  But who shows up and pays a $5 entrance fee to run 5.5 miles if they have not been training?  If he put training with his natural ability I was going to have a real problem here.  But, I figured, maybe he wouldn't see me or notice me.  I figured wrong.  He did see me and the first thing he did was walk up to me and say, "Well, Cannon, this race is longer than 3 miles."  Well I couldn't tell him that my boast that I could beat him in a race longer than  3 miles was based on the assumption that he would not be training to run, so I just said "Yes it is.  I should win this one."

Dad saw me talking to Wadman and asked who he was.  I told him the story of the mile runs, the 2 mile run and my boast that I could beat him in a race longer than 3 miles but that the boast was based on Wadman not really being a runner.  Dad, was always encouraging and always a competitor so he told me we would just have to beat Wadman in the race. 

At this time in my running career Mom and I were training for our first Marathon, the 1980 St. George Marathon that would be run in October of 1980.  Dad had run the 1979 St. George Marathon and was training to run again in 1980. While Mom and I were training to run about 9 minute pace for the marathon and hoped to run under 4 hours, Dad was planning on breaking 3:30. I usually worked out with Mom but had recently come to the point  where I could run the shorter Road Races with Dad at his faster pace.

Wadman was with another runner that looked older than him.  Not old enough to be a parent.  He looked  to me to be around college age.  Maybe an older brother or just a running buddy.  When they shot the starting gun Wadman and this other guy took off, fast.  After just a half mile they were far ahead of Dad and me and I wondered if I should speed up to try to catch them and have a chance at beating Wadman.  The problem was they were going really fast and I was pretty sure that I could not keep up with them.  Dad told me to just run my race.  He said that I knew what a good pace was for me and that you never knew what might happen in a race as long as 5.5 miles.  Soon we could not even see Wadman or his running partner and I was thinking I was going to lose to Wadman yet again. I wondered if I could figure out a way to explain my training v. natural ability theory  without it sounding like an excuse.  I decided that I really couldn't so I was just going to have to live with it.  Then at the 4 mile mark; well there was Wadman and he looked like he was hurting.  We had no trouble catching up to him and passing him.  We did not see Wadman for the rest of the race.  Dad told me that Wadman had obviously gone out way to fast and that if I had tried to stick with him I would have probably been back there with him staggering along like he was.  I still appreciate Dad and the help he gave me in that race.

I want to mention that Wadman really was a good guy.  I saw him in the park a little after the race was over.  Before I could even consider if I should go point out that the race was not even close, he approached me and asked me what place I got.  They had given us tongue depressors with our place number written on them. Mine was 60. His was in the high 80s.  He congratulated me and that really was the last time I saw Wadman.

I never did find out if Wadman had been training for that race or if he just figured he could run it.  I've wondered over the years what would have happened if he had run a better paced race.  We did not see him until well after 3 miles, so if this had just been a 3 mile race I may have lost.  Of course, my race strategy would have been different too if the race was shorter.  Wadman had no way of knowing that I would be at that race that day and I think he was just as suprised to see me as I was to see him.  In looking  back I think he got psyched out and did  not run the race that he would have if I was not there.  I think he felt as much pressure to beat me as I did to beat him.   I also never found out who the guy was that he started the race with.  While we never saw Wadman again in the race after passing him at the 4 mile mark we also never saw his older running buddy at all.  He obviously did have the stamina to start at and maintain that faster pace.   Maybe Wadman would have been running with him either way.  But no matter what the answers to these questions are it was nice, for me at least, that for once the scrawny kid in PE (me) beat the guy that everyone knew was a good athlete just by looking at him