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Coach Greene called in the athletes and divided them into training groups. Jannie was put with the local girls. If she cared, she didn’t show it. This was all about the clock.
Chapter
22
Greene called for 60 percent effort, and the men went first, running the long left-hand turn of the two-hundred and then slowing into a trot back around. Greene sent the next groups in in waves. The seven college girls were serious athletes, strong and fleet. They seemed to dance down the track, barely touching the surface, their legs churning in a quick, powerful cadence.
Jannie watched them intently but showed nothing. When it came time for her group, the high school girls, to run, she went to the outside, letting the others have the favored lanes. Greene said something to her I didn’t catch. Jannie nodded and settled in.
They ran the staggers with no blocks, just taking off at Greene’s whistle. Some of the other girls, especially the three from Starksville, were surprisingly gutsy and kept abreast of Jannie through the slowdown. But you could see that they didn’t have her natural fluidness and stride.
The difference was more readily apparent two intervals later when Greene called for 80 percent effort. At the whistle, Jannie took off in a smooth, chopping motion that quickly gave way to the long, explosive lopes of a quarter-miler as she rounded the turn. She let up with ten yards to go and still beat the high school girls by three body lengths.
“Hey!” one of the local girls said angrily to Jannie, breathing hard. “Eighty percent!”
Jannie smiled and said, “That was seventy.”
Her tone was matter-of-fact, but the girl seemed to think Jannie was being condescending. Her face hardened; she turned and went over to her friends.
Coach Greene must have heard Jannie say she was giving only 70 percent, because she jogged over and said something to her. Jannie nodded and ran to catch up with the older girls.
“Drop to groups of four, ladies,” Greene shouted after them.
The college girls nodded to Jannie when she jogged up, but these were Division 1 athletes. After that moment of acknowledgment, they put on their game faces.
“Eighty-five to ninety now,” Greene called as the girls moved into the stagger.
At fifteen and a half, my daughter was as tall as or taller than most of the girls, but she didn’t have their strength or build. She looked slight next to them.
Jannie ran stride for stride with the two strongest girls until they were a hundred and fifty meters in. Then their conditioning and experience showed. They pulled away from her and crossed the slowdown mark a yard ahead.
“Ninety,” Greene called, and all the girls in that heat, including Jannie, nodded, their chests heaving.
They ran two more like that, and Jannie finished third both times. Then Greene called for warm-down and stretching. The two fastest college girls went over and talked to Jannie; the local girls tried to ignore her.
Coach Greene came to the fence, and I went down to talk to her.
“Has she run in the two-hundred in competition?” she asked.
“No,” I said. “Quarter-mile only. Why?”
“Those two that beat her, Layla and Nichole, they’re pure sprinters. Two-hundred’s their race. Layla was runner-up at the Atlantic championships, twelfth at NCAA nationals.”
I didn’t know what to say. “I think she wants the four-hundred.”
“I know,
” Greene said. “She’s raw, but very impressive, Dr. Cross.”
“Thank you, I think.”
The coach said, “It’s a deep compliment. I…” She paused. “Think you might be able to bring her over to Duke next Saturday morning?”
“For?”
“There’s a group from Chapel Hill, Duke, and Auburn, all four-hundred girls; they train there. And I’d like my boss in my other life to see Jannie run.”
“Thought this wasn’t about recruitment.”
