Flashes of Panic

I think one of the things I’m missing these days is a team.

I say this because I’m listed, for tomorrow’s meet, as “New England Masters—Unattached.” If I had known the organization of things before I started, I could have joined Maine Masters, where I know at least two of the swimmers, but it turns out that MMSC isn’t a sub-group of NEMSC the way, say, UMAMa is. There’s the group that swims at JFK Middle School in Northampton, but I think it would be a little weird joining a team when I’ve never dipped a toe in their home pool. (Same problem with UMAMa, actually.)

It’s part of the “misery loves company” philosophy, I think. If I’m representing something bigger than myself, I’m less likely to slack off when things get ugly. I have to hold up my end. And when I’m done, I’m more likely to be satisfied with what I did. By myself, well, it’s just me, and it doesn’t matter that much.

That’s how it was in high school, when I ran (and, sometimes, swam) for teams which tended to win more than they lost. (Our cross-country team went undefeated through the conference meet when I was a senior.) In college, for the most part, being on a team was about practice; we showed up each day and hurt with each other. Sort of a “misery loves company” situation.

When I was preparing for my (ultimately disastrous) Boston run in the spring of 2000, I put a bit of time into deciding what to wear. At the time I was running a fairly big website and was generally racing in a singlet with its logo and the domain name. But instead of running past a few hundred thousand marathon spectators with our URL, I opted to wear the company Corporate Challenge uniform because I was one of ten or twelve from the company running that year. I wanted the feeling of being one of several, even among the thousands who ran that year. (Actually, I would rather have worn the uniform of the guys I trained with but I had to take a paycheck in to account.)

I’m teamless, nowadays, and when I’m in shape to run, I race in my old college uniform. I had an offer to join the Dirigo RC when I wrote an article about them for New England Runner, but joining a Maine-based team while living in western Massachusetts seemed a bit uncomfortable. Likewise the B.A.A. and GBTC, both of which have some sentimental appeal for me (I know a lot of runners on both teams, and GBTC is, or was, the club of Bill Rodgers.) There’s Sugarloaf (affectionately known as “SMAC”), which is local but lacks a certain, uh, competitiveness. (In other words, I could slack off in a race and know they wouldn’t care. Not quite what I’m after.)

Tomorrow, I’m racing in a slate-blue (“navy,” according to the catalog, but it’s not like the “navy” I know) suit which is about as close as I can come to my high school colors. There will be three of us there, actually (and no, they’re not both related to me.) It won’t be the same, but maybe I can pretend for a few minutes.