If you can't say anything nice...

One thing I love about running is the camaraderie within the running community. Although it's usually an individual event, it's not uncommon for racers to provide a few words of encouragement to one another on the course. And then there are events like the Klondike, where you'll always have at least nine team members supporting you.

On the other end of the spectrum, I absolutely hate it when spectators think they're doing me a favor by screaming at me like a drill sergeant as I run by. It's neither supportive nor motivating. This one guy barked at me as I neared the finish up in Presho back in March. This ain't the military, so quit your yellin'.

And then there was the woman who implored me to "run faster" at the end of a race in Juneau last year. Even if I hadn't been extremely sick, I couldn't have gone any faster due to the short distance to the finish after a 90-degree turn at the very end of the course. Moron.

I bring this up because I accompanied the Todd County track team on Tuesday to Mobridge for the Big Dakota Conference meet. Although there was a disparity within the group of distance runners in terms of their finishing times, everyone obviously gave their best efforts. What bothered me was the boorish behavior by some of the coaches and parents during the 3200.

I was stationed at the 200 mark halfway around the track to keep tabs on our team. It didn't take long for the runners to space themselves out. Besides cheering for TC, I provided words of encouragement to those who were struggling to complete the eight laps. Two girls were nearly in tears; others were clearly in pain. Two miles is a long run for many. I'm sure they didn't need to hear their family imploring, "Catch that girl! Go faster! Pick it up!" We can't run the race for them; however, a little positivity goes a long way.

I think what pissed me off the most is those yelling were not the most athletic folks I've ever encountered. This might sound harsh, but I wanted them to get their asses on the track to run eight laps. Then, I'd have yelled, "Pick up the pace!" or some other bullshit.

It struck a nerve with me because you could tell those kids were trying their best just to finish. That's all you can ask. Getting lapped and struggling to complete a race after the "elite" runners have long crossed the finish line is a disheartening combination. The least I could do was clap and cheer, "Looking good! Keep it up! Stay strong! Only 200 to go!" Hopefully, those parents and coaches were paying attention.