“Do you prefer cross or track?”
The moment this question gets asked, I plaster a smile on my face while simultaneously trying to hide the internal eye roll that bubbles up inside me. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not a bad question. It is just one I’ve answered thousands of times over the last eight years. It’s the runner’s equivalent of asking a twin, “So, which of you was born first?” A classic, but not original.
I usually let out a dramatic sigh before I launch into my default response: “It really just depends on the year.” What I actually mean by this: it depends on which one I did better in this year. But, of course, I’ve polished my answer to be more socially acceptable than “ I like, whichever one strokes my ego more at the moment.”
What makes this question tricky is that my answer isn’t static. It changes depending on who I’m talking to. Is the person a former runner who knows the difference between a 5K cross country course with rolling hills or a 1500 m race on the oval track? Or is this someone who thinks cross-country is a skiing event they only see once every four years during the winter Olympics?
So before I answer, I do what any athlete does: I size them up. How much detail do they deserve? How much do they actually want? If they’re casually asking at a family dinner, they’ll get option A. If they are a teammate, coach, or fellow runner, they’ll get option B; the deluxe package.
Option A (the short and sweet)
“Well, cross country is trail running, so sometimes that’s more entertaining than doing endless laps on a track, but the distance is usually longer in a cross country race than a track race.”
This answer is polite, accessible, and safe. It keeps me from launching into a TED Talk about lactic acid buildup and split times, which often most people are truly not that interested in.
Then we have option B.
Option B (the full runners rant)
The truth is, I’ve had an on-again, off-again relationship with both. When I was in high school, I loved cross country. I like that people cheer you on in different parts of the races, but there are still parts of the course where you get to race just you and the other competitors with no spectators. I love the long trail runs that are part of cross-country training. I like that in the long run you never know what you will encounter: giant mud puddles, torrential rain, or a scary homeless person that makes the 7th mile of your 10-mile run the fastest one. It’s not exactly a glamorous sport, but that’s what makes it so exciting.
Then came the track. At first, it felt repetitive, like being a hamster on a wheel, but with fun sneakers. But as I learned to chase personal records, lap after lap, I started to appreciate the precision. There’s something addicting about shaving, even one second off a time you’ve been chasing for months. There are no surprises on the track. The measurements never change. Track became less about surviving the elements and more about perfecting the details.
If you were to chart my feelings, it would look like a roller coaster: cross country was my favorite… Until I had a bad season. Then Track took the crown… Until a workout left me questioning why anyone would willingly sprint repeat 800s in the Texas heat.
But maybe that’s the point: the answer is fluid. My “ preference” isn’t about the sport itself, but about my season, my mood, and sometimes what chorus of a song is stuck on my head on race day. What I love about this question, despite my dramatic sighs and internal cringes, is that it actually gets at something deeper: how do we measure the joy we find in something we love? Is it the thrill of the unknown (cross-country) or is it the satisfaction of control (track)? Is it that for some reason, there is no better way to bond with teammates than on a seemingly endless long run with nothing to do but talk? Or is it the rhythmic pounding of our sneakers against the track as we move in a pack, trying to hit our goal times?
Here’s what I’ve learned now that it is my senior year of running cross country and track. I have a polished answer, but I don’t have to pick. The beauty of being a runner is that I get to enjoy the chaos of cross country in the fall, then transition to rhythmic track in the spring. I get to reinvent my answer every year, sometimes every race. Thankfully, the pipeline of division one athlete to retired athlete typically means joining a run club that meets twice a week, so I get to say I love run club season because it is all year round. In some ways, this will be the last year of do you prefer cross or track before it switches to did you like cross or track more?
So the next time someone asked me, “Do you prefer cross or track?” Maybe I will challenge myself to not roll my eyes too hard, slap a more genuine smile on my face, and say:
“It depends on the year, on the race, on the elements of the run, on whether my shoelaces stay tied, and sometimes on whether the athletic trainers leave out Powerade for us after workouts. Today my answer is cross country, but ask me again after our 1200 m, 800m, 300m repeat out tomorrow, in which my answer will surely switch.”
