Running has always been a big part of my life. Even from my first mile to the time I qualified for districts. But I haven't yet mentioned my college cross-country days.

Cross-country in college helped me from being a geek freshman, just like it saved me from being a nerd high-schooler. A benefit to participating in fall sports is getting to school a week earlier than everyone else. That's great, because you get to set your room up before your roommate shows. So you can take the bed next to the window and the large closet. My roommate, however, was also in a fall sport. So she showed up early too. She got the window and I got the bed next to the door and the noisy hallway.

Cafeteria mishaps were avoided as well. Freshmen athletes followed along behind their upperclassmen teammates, and learned the caf procedures fast. No mishaps, or spilled trays for me. Although I didn't learn my lesson well enough. As a junior I got distracted talking to a friend, and nearly walked out carrying my tray of dirty dishes.

Luckily for me the cross-country team was not into initiating its members. Many a soccer player got "shorted" - it's hard to pull up your shorts from around your ankles when carrying a tray full of food.

However, I had the ignominy of being personally "shorted" in my dormitory by a male hallmate. Right in front of my roommate. Thank God I, unlike other runners who sometimes do not, wear underwear beneath my short running shorts.

Every fall was the local country fair. As a team we would go and play games, win goldfish, and search for and win the largest stuffed animal we could find. It became a ritual. Every fall, for the first away meet, we'd bring out this ugly, cheap stuffed animal. And tie it to the back of the van. As we drove, the bear or cat or pig would rub along the ground, bouncing high into the air occasionally. Pieces of fur, or eyes, and then finally whole arms and legs would start to rip off. Each puff of stuffing brought howls and shrieks of laughter. If it didn't totally disintigrate, we'd check out the damage when we arrived at our destination. Usually there'd be nothing left except it's deflated torso, devoid of stuffing, limbs, or head.

Each last home meet brought its own rituals too. Somehow the tradition was started that each senior girl would get a rose from the senior men. One year, the flowers were especially fresh. Apparently the guys had forgotten, and on a warm up run, picked flowers from the house of some unfortunate local.

The close of the running season signaled the time of the cross country party. Not just any party, but a Guns 'n Roses theme party. The guys came up with that idea, if you hadn't already guessed. The men would come dressed as various members of Guns 'n Roses. The women would come dressed as, ah . . . well, sluts.

Nothing like a good old Guns 'n Roses 'n Sluts Party! Since I was a Resident Assistant, I usually never went to these parties. But I decided, what the hell, and went in my senior year. The girls had on these outrageous outfits, including tight black short dresses and teased hair. I'd come wearing chopped off short-shorts, garters sticking out below that suspended black stockings, high heels, and a denim shirt unbuttoned to show off a black strapless boustier. Okay, Okay, more graphic than you wanted, right?

But guess who won the Queen Slut Award at the party?