Katie McGregor has waited for this moment the entire morning. The hunger? The hunger is always there - where else would it be for someone who claims the title of best collegiate cross-country runner in the land?
As the moment of truth arises, McGregor seems a sure bet to devour her prey in the usual quick and painless fashion.
Wait a minute. This isn't a track or golf course - it's the Michigan Union. This isn't a starting line - it's a pizza counter. And what is McGregor about to destroy without so much as an afterthought - a three-dollar pizza.
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| LOUIS BROWN/Daily Katie McGregor has done just about everything in her Michigan career. She's been a force on both the women's cross country and track teams. She also won a national championship. |
Pizza isn't normally a "lunch of champions," as most flabby college students will tell you. But the physically impressive McGregor is not your run-of-the-mill champion.
McGregor exploded onto the scene in the fall of her junior year at Michigan. After a respectable, but unspectacular two years, she brought hope to late bloomers everywhere.
McGregor took fifth at the NCAA cross-country finals that year, then proceeded to win the 3,000 meters and anchor the winning distance medley relay at the NCAA finals in track.
This past fall, McGregor might as well have had the words "Who's your daddy?" written on back of her singlet. She captured every race but one in the cross country season - including the crown jewel, the NCAA individual title.
If running was a lucrative professional sport, McGregor could have declared herself eligible for the "running draft," hired an agent, and strolled around with a cellphone attached to her palm. Even so, she is recognized throughout the world of running as an up-and-comer, an Olympic hopeful and a national force for years to come.
And McGregor eats lunch at the Union? She could probably dine at the Gandy Dancer everyday, strictly because of her new-found stardom.
"She's just one of those very modest types of people," teammate Julie Froud said. "She's not going to brag, she's not going to jump up and down.
"When she wins, she's happy and we're happy for her. She's not like other athletes who get all cocky about their ability - it's just not like her to do that."
Simply put, McGregor is a breath of fresh air. In a sporting landscape filled with the pollution of athletes whose feet left the ground a long time ago, McGregor prefers to stay put, run really fast and live a fun-loving college life.
A Life Less Ordinary
"When I go to practice, I put one hundred percent effort into it," McGregor said. "But when I'm done, I just want to throw it aside.
"I think if I thought about running twenty-four-seven, I would go crazy."
A fiery competitor even as a middle-schooler, McGregor learned to relax-with the help of strict scheduling.
"It started in high school," McGregor said. "Most of my friends weren't on the team, so I would have to do my runs in the morning or late at night just so that I'd be able to hang out with my friends.
It's always been something I will get done no matter what, but I don't want it to take over other aspects of my life."
There's a line the movie "Dead Poets Society" in which Robin Williams warns a student - "sucking the marrow out of life doesn't mean choking on the bone." McGregor has pulled the ultimate high-wire act - balancing all the ills of a normal college student and, oh yeah, managing to train up to the level of a national champion. Amazed? Get used to it.
"She works hard at school and running, but outside of those, she will party," Froud said. "She will laugh and dance and hang out. She will spend time with her boyfriend. When she's not running she's a normal college student who has fun.
"That's rare for a runner at her level but she has a God-given talent to keep everything up," Froud said.
On race day, McGregor doesn't even bother to familiarize herself with the competition - she doesn't care about their running resume', she only wants to break the tape first.
The queen of college cross country doesn't even own a single copy of a running magazine - a pre-requisite for even the most novice of runners.
"If I needed to look at one I could probably find one real easy," McGregor said with a chuckle. "My parents look at those now just to find out stuff about me, but I tell them not to worry about it."
But McGregor has grown weary with the increased outside attention. Every college student deserves the right to live without the outside dangers of the media-monster - McGregor especially doesn't like the labels.
"That's not me, it's a part of me but I don't want people to label me as a national champion - there's more to me," McGregor said. "I want people to like me for the person I am and not what I'm doing."
A simple and reasonable request, but at this point of her life, a sometimes difficult one.
Plenty of 'M' in 'Team'
At Michigan, there is a sense of community among the athletes which doesn't always transcend to the student body.
Athletes recognize each other by letter jackets and sweats, and even if a football player and a rower member happen to pass each other on the diag, more often than not there is a nod or a wave of recognition between them.
It's this maize-and-blue colored extended family which McGregor values over her personal and educational success at Michigan. Her place in the "Michigan tradition," McGregor said, by far outweighs any sacrifices to get there.
"You're not just a part of the track team, you're a part of the whole athletic campus. When I go to a field hockey game, I get just as excited for the people out there because I know how much they want it, I've been there.
"The block 'M' across your chest means something."
But as in any family, with the triumph comes the tears. McGregor and almost everyone in the athletic community was stunned by the death of Jeff Reese - the Michigan wrestler who died in his quest to cut weight before a match.
If anything good arose from the tragedy, McGregor said, it was the renewed sense of fraternalism among the Michigan athletes.
"When he died, even if you didn't know him it was just the biggest loss," McGregor said. "It was the greatest loss you could ever feel, like losing a family member.
"Imagine putting all this work in and giving all you have just to win. It all just got wiped away, it was what can happen if you go too far."
The scene at Cliff Keen arena on December 9, 1997 will forever remain with McGregor-the sadness of the occasion coupled with the outpouring of grief from the most unlikely of sources.
"All the practices were canceled that day and we all just went down there," McGregor said. "Even teams that don't usually show up (for team meetings) were there.
"Everybody just felt like 'gosh we're a community' - if anything could epitomize what it feels like to be an athlete at Michigan, that's what it would be. It took this horrible occassion to recognize it. It was just unbelievable, I can't even explain it."
Perhaps McGregor didn't need any further proof as to what her life philosophy should be. But out of the horror of the Jeff Reese tragedy there emerged within her an appreciation for the delicate nature of life as well as her duty as a Michigan athlete.
"It could have happened to anyone," McGregor said.
The End of the Beginning
This weekend, McGregor will race in the world-renowned Penn Relays - another opportunity to shine, another chance for people to take a crack at her national champion-reputation. Afterwards, Big Tens and Nationals beckon but that will pretty much be it.
She'll continue to train in Ann Arbor and stay on as an assistant coach - like a child who chooses not to leave home but satys to help out the parents for a little while longer.
While you can still catch her charging down Packard on a distance run, her presence will be a bit farther from the starting line instead of embracing it.
All we're left with are memories, but what memories they are.
While her teammates can name specific races which stood out over others, their fondest memories come from the heart.
"You know, for all the hard workouts we've done, I never heard her once say 'I can't do it,'" Elizabeth Kampfe said. "She was and is a great competitor."
Other memories run more personal.
"I'll always know who she was and what she loved, and in 10 years I'll be able to think about her and just smile," Froud said. "How many people can you do that about?"
And what about the Big One, the national title? That's for much later, says McGregor, when it's all over.
"Maybe when I get older and I can't run anymore I'll wear a pin that says 'I was national champion,'" McGregor said.
If that day ever comes, may it be many years and many cheap pizzas from now.
04-20-99
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