1. Pappas Question of the Day
2.
3. Starting Line: Freshman Year
4. Mile 1: Sophomore Year
5. Mile 2: Junior Year
6. Finish Line: Senior Year
7. Cross Country and Academics
8. McFarland USA
9. T-Minus: The Race to the Moon, Pages 46-72
10. Conclusion
Pappas Question of the Day
Today on her Mathematics Calendar 2019, Theoni Pappas writes:
cos ?/sqrt(3) = 1/2,
0 < ? < 270
To solve this equation, it might help to multiply both sides by sqrt(3):
cos ? = sqrt(3)/2
So we must find the angle whose cosine is sqrt(3)/2. We should have already memorized such an angle -- 30 degrees. So our desired angle is 30 -- and of course, today's date is the thirtieth.
Some readers may ask whether this truly counts as a Geometry problem (akin to Chapter 14 of the U of Chicago text), rather than an Algebra II or Precalculus trig problem. The rule of thumb is that if it mentions angles greater than 90 (or less than zero), then it's not a Geometry problem.
Our problem mentions the range 0 < ? < 270, but the actual answer is acute. Notice that this range, Quadrants I-III, is the largest quadrant range in which the answer is unique, since the other angle with a cosine of sqrt(3)/2 is in Quadrant IV (330 or -30 degrees). If it weren't for that brief mention of angles in other quadrants, this would be a true Geometry problem.
But I decided to bend my rules and post today's problem anyway, for one simple reason -- it appears that Theoni Pappas will not have a Mathematics Calendar for 2020. I was preparing for my annual Cyber Monday order and found no calendar listed on Amazon. We know that she doesn't have a calendar every year -- for example, she had no 2017 calendar. Then again, she is getting up there in years -- she is now 75 years old. I hope that nothing has happened to her.
On the other hand, I do see another math calendar listed on Amazon, by Rebecca Rapoport. She first created her calendar in 2018, but Pappas had 2018 and 2019 calendars, so I didn't notice. I'm strongly considering ordering Rapoport's calendar on Cyber Monday.
Meanwhile, I haven't posted many Pappas problems in November. It's not that she doesn't have Geometry problems -- it's just that nearly all of them have landed on non-blogging days. For example, during Thanksgiving break, there were Geometry problems last Saturday, Monday, and then on Turkey Day itself. All of them were on days I simply didn't post.
Those three problems are nonetheless interesting for me to discuss, so let me briefly describe them:
Last Saturday: It is an exterior angle problem -- the exterior angle of a triangle is 80 degrees, and the remote interior angles are 57 and x. So of course x = 23, matching the date of the 23rd. Her answer is correct, but unfortunately she didn't draw it properly -- the 80-degree angle is drawn to appear obtuse.
Monday: Find the diagonal of a quadrilateral. It is a midpoint quadrilateral problem -- the length of the relevant side of the midpoint quad is 12.5. So the diagonal is 25, matching the date of the 25th. I have no problem with her answer, except that for some reason, the two sides of the midpoint quad are 14 m and 12.5 (with no dimension).
Thanksgiving: Find the diagonal of a "square-based rectangular solid." We are given the volume as 1536 cm^3 and the height as 4.
Notice that "square-based" isn't enough to find a unique answer -- the dimensions of this box could be either {4, 4, x} or {4, x, x}. The latter makes more sense, but it's difficult to tell from the drawing (since it's a 3D figure) that the length and width are equal. If we use {4, x, x}, then we ultimately reach the intended answer. Even though x isn't a whole number, the desired diagonal turns out to be 28, matching the date of the 28th.
Black Friday: Yesterday's problem isn't Geometry, but it contains a blatant error (as opposed to the milder mistakes I mentioned from earlier this week):
Five dice are stacked as shown. Some faces are hidden within the stack. How many pips are hidden?
There are nine faces that are hidden -- the top and bottom of four of the dice, and only the bottom of the top die. The trick to solving this problem is that opposite faces of a die add up to 7 -- so the opposite faces of the lower four dice add up to 28. All that's left is the bottom of the top die -- and the top of the top die happens to have six pips showing. So the hidden face of that die is 1. We add this to the 28 we found earlier to obtain 29, matching the date of the 29th.
But here's the error -- the side faces of the dice are also drawn in. These faces should be irrelevant to our solution, except there's one problem -- the visible face of the top die has 1 pip showing. Thus the top die must have two 1's -- the 1 on the side, and the 1 on the bottom! That the bottom face is 1 is significant, since it's needed to get the answer to be 29. To avoid this problem, Pappas should have drawn any number of pips on the side of the top die (2-5) other than 1.
Yet I don't worry about the errors too much -- the Pappas calendar has been a delight. I will miss the calendar in 2020, and I hope that the 2019 calendar isn't her last.
Today is Small Business Saturday, the day after Black Friday and two days after Thanksgiving. It was created by American Express in order to encourage Christmas shopping at local stores. It can be shown that "Saturday after Thanksgiving" is equivalent to "last Saturday in November," which makes the date easy to find on a calendar.
But Small Business Saturday has only existed since the start of the decade. To me, the Saturday after Thanksgiving has had another meaning -- the day of the California State Cross Country Meet. This is a race of about three miles (actually five kilometers) in length.
I've mentioned my career as a high school distance runner several times on the blog (most recently on Halloween and All Saints Day, when I spoke to the XC runner in the class I subbed for). Therefore, I'll devote today's post to a full discussion of my cross country career. After all, it's still Thanksgiving break as well as State Meet Saturday.
Note: Much of today's post is a cut-and-paste from last year.
But first, let me point out the significance of the date. The State Meet was always held the Saturday after Thanksgiving. In fact, the dates of all the races can be determined by counting backwards from State Meet Saturday (or Thanksgiving). On the other hand, the dates of the first day of school, the second semester, and the last day of school are determined at many schools by counting forward from Labor Day, not Thanksgiving.
For example, here were some key dates from my own days as a XC runner:
- First race of the season: 12 Saturdays before State Meet (first Saturday in September)
- Last dual meet of season: 4 Thursdays before Thanksgiving (last Thursday in October)
- League Finals: 3 Thursdays before Thanksgiving (first Thursday in November)
- Section Finals: Saturday before Thanksgiving (penultimate Saturday in November)
- State Meet: Saturday after Thanksgiving (last Saturday in November)
Since then, some of these dates have changed. For example, there's now a tendency for dual meets in many leagues (including my own) to be held on Wednesdays, not Thursdays. The first race of the season is also now a week earlier (the last Saturday in August). But the State Meet hasn't changed.
[2019 update: This year, I even heard of a XC race that occurred on the penultimate Saturday in August, but that might have been just to avoid Labor Day weekend.]
In other high school sports, such as football, the dates have changed dramatically -- the season starts nearly a month earlier now than my own high school days. This is mainly so that there's enough time to hold the state finals comfortably before Christmas. (In my days, there were no state football finals.)
Football season now begins 14 weeks before Thanksgiving (in mid-August). The season itself is 11 weeks long (enough for ten games and a bye week). In November, four rounds of sectional playoffs take place (at least here in the Southern Section -- the state's largest section). The first round is three weeks before Thanksgiving and the last round is this weekend. Tonight, a sectional finals game takes place between arguably the top two teams in the nation -- Mater Dei and St. John Bosco. (The game is still in progress as of the moment I published this post.) Then there are two weeks for state semifinals and state finals.
I often wondered why the new football schedule would take effect last year, when Thanksgiving fell on its earliest possible date (November 22nd). It would have been less a shock for players and coaches had the transition occurred this year, when Turkey Day is as late as possible (the 28th).
That's enough about football -- let's get back to my sport, cross country. In today's post, I wish to tell you the story of how I became a high school cross country runner.
Starting Line: Freshman Year
I admit that growing up, I'd never thought of myself as an athlete, much less a distance runner. I've heard that I had a slender frame -- a runner's body. But still, running races wasn't something that I had an urge to do. For most sports, I was often the proverbial "last person picked."
I remember one day in seventh grade, when the P.E. teacher had all students compete in two races on the track -- 200 meters and 400 meters. After the races, she told the first few runners in each race to stand up and be acknowledged. I was one of the top runners in the 400, but not the 200. As I stood up, another student -- one of the top 200 runners -- remarked that we weren't the fastest runners. In a way, he was right -- the 200 is a pure sprint. The 400, while not exactly a distance race, nonetheless isn't a pure sprint either. Speed matters, but endurance starts to make a difference too. The other guy had the speed, but lacked the endurance to keep up with runners like me in the long sprint.
Throughout middle school P.E., we occasionally had to do a mile run on the track. I remember one such four-lap run in eighth grade. After the first lap I was ahead of all my classmates. After the second and third laps I was in second place. I finished the race in third place. If I recall correctly, my time was just under eight minutes, good enough for an "A" in the mile run. (Ten minutes was a "B," twelve minutes was a "C," and any time over twelve was a "D" provided a full mile was completed.)
Early the following summer, I received a letter. It was from the coach of a sport that I had never heard of -- cross-country running. He was inviting me to join the team. At first I was intimidated -- three miles sounded like such a long distance. But then I reminded myself that I had a runner's body, and I was unlikely to be successful in any other sport. And so I joined the team.
On the first day of practice, the coach told me to run three miles on the track. Then he led the rest of the team on a "short" distance run to the mall and back -- a round trip of just over four miles. I completed the dozen laps on the track, but I had to stop and rest several times.
Summer practices were held thrice a week. Mondays were for long road runs, while Wednesdays were for intervals on the track. Other types of workouts were held on Thursdays. At the end of each summer workout, the coach would give us all sodas.
One memorable workout occurred on Monday, August 14th. For the workout, the coach had planned an eight-mile road run -- four miles out, four miles back. For the first three miles, I tried to keep up with my more experienced teammates. We managed to catch every green light until we reached the three-mile mark. It was the first time that I'd ever run the length of a XC race without stopping -- though it took me about a half-hour.
I stopped to catch my breath, while the rest of the team continued to run. I decided that since I was still a novice runner, I wouldn't be able to complete the full eight-mile workout. Typically, the coach would have us run the return part of each workout along the side of the "river" (which here in Southern California really means something like "flood control channel"). This way, we'd be able to avoid red lights and run the distance without stopping.
And so I ran three miles along the river bike path back to school. But for some reason, the gate leading from the river back to the street was locked. I'd either have to run an extra mile to the next street (and yet another mile to get back) and hope the gate was unlocked, or try to climb the fence. I was too tired even to climb the fence. Instead, I decided to take a shortcut directly across the river. I remind you that this isn't a real river (like the Mississippi) -- it's only a few feet across and only a few inches deep.
But the force of this river was powerful -- once I stepped in, it's impossible even to stand up! The river swept me several miles away from the school (and in the opposite direction from where my teammates were running). I was saved only because one person driving on a bridge spotted me -- and she just happened to have a cell phone. (This was in 1995, so cell phones were rare.) A fireman was summoned, and he intercepted me one mile farther down the river.
What should I have done? Either I should have simply climbed over the gate, or perhaps waited for the teammates running the extra two miles to catch up. (I'd already run to a second gate hoping it would be open, and there was no guarantee the others would have run past the second gate if they were already climbing over the first one.)
A few weeks later, the season began. The early-season schedule had us racing twice a week -- on Thursdays there would be a non-league dual meet (that is, a race against one other school that isn't in our league) and on Saturdays there were weekend invitationals against many schools. In my first Thursday meet my time for three miles was around the mid-24's, and in my second invitational nine days later, my time was in the mid-21's. The coach joked that if I could keep this up, I could run it nine minutes by the end of the season! (Of course, that would be a world record by fat.)
In reality, by the time the league dual meets began I didn't keep improving by a minute every race (no one can). But in my third invitational -- the huge Dana Hills Invitational -- I broke 21 minutes. That is to say, I ran under 21 minutes for the first time (I believe my time was 20:50).
This was the year that I moved from one school to another. As it turned out, the week of the move was the same week as League Finals, and so I didn't actually complete my freshman season.
At my new school, Cross Country season was over, but many runners move on to track. The distance races that most XC runners participated in are 800, 1600, and 3200 meters. (For those who don't know the conversion, 1600 meters is almost one mile.)
Mile 1: Sophomore Year
At my new school, the season schedule was a little different. The first race of the season was always a time trial (that is, we ran against the clock, not another school). It also marked the main fundraiser of the season -- tickets to a pancake breakfast. Also, there were no non-league dual meets -- the five league dual meets fell on the five Thursdays in October, followed by League Finals. The time trial as well as three of the league meets took place on our home course.
But I always had trouble filling out the athletic clearance papers in time for the start of the season. So instead, my first race of the season was the third Saturday. This is another huge invitational -- the Woodbridge Invitational. Held on that high school's campus, the Woodbridge race regularly produces our fastest times of the year. That day, I broke 20 minutes for the first time.
Another major race that we prepared for was the Mt. SAC Invitational. This race regularly takes place in mid-October, on the second Saturday before League Finals. The name Mt. SAC refers to a community college, but that word "Mt."/"Mount" gives away what the course was like. It's the hilliest XC course that we run on. During the weeks leading up to Mt. SAC, we would have "hill repeats," which are like intervals except they're run on a nearby hill. These workouts were often led by our two senior captains.
I never looked forward to hill repeats, or any hill workouts. But they're very helpful -- after running six, seven, eight miles on hills in practice, the three-mile Mt. SAC course was a cinch! Of course, my times at Mt. SAC were never as good as Woodbridge -- that year, my Mt. SAC time was mid-20's.
The following Thursday was the last dual meet of the season -- Halloween. That year, Thanksgiving fell on its latest possible date (the 28th) and so the last dual meet was four weeks earlier. It marked the only time I've ever raced on Halloween. (Nowadays, with league meets on Wednesdays, last year's early Thanksgiving led to League Finals on Halloween.) The final dual meet was held on our home course, and that day I ran a few seconds slower than Woodbridge.
A week later was my first League Finals, held at a local park. That day I capped off the season with my third (or maybe fourth) sub-20 performance.
Mile 2: Junior Year
Once again, I wasn't cleared to run in races until Woodbridge. Once again, I set another PR, or personal record, as I broke 19 that day.
That year, our school had many fast runners. Some of our top runners were hoping to advance all the way to the State Meet. But only Varsity runners were allowed at postseason races. The Varsity team consisted of seven runners plus two alternates -- and our top nine runners all had sub-17 times.
Since my PR was just barely under 19 minutes, I had to run Junior Varsity, not Varsity. All juniors and seniors not on Varsity were relegated to the JV team. As it turns out, not many members of the Classes of 1998 and '99 had joined the cross country team -- and of the few who did, most of them ran Varsity.
Excluding the alternates, I was the only junior not on Varsity -- and for most of the season there was only one non-Varsity senior as well. This made running in JV races a lonely affair.
At the end of the season, our Varsity runners indeed ran in the postseason races. The section prelims and finals were both held at Mt. SAC -- and this underscores the importance of preparing for hilly courses and doing well at the Mt. SAC Invite. The state meet was held at Woodward Park in Fresno, where it's still held to this day. (Recall that Fresno is the one of the Central California cities that opposed Prop 7 and supports the biannual clock change.)
Meanwhile, my season ended at League Finals, which were held at a local university. At the end of the season, I received an award for the most improved JV runner -- but then again, there weren't that many JV runners in the first place.
Finish Line: Senior Year
For once, I was actually cleared in time for the opening time trial. If I recall correctly, my time was right around 19 minutes. At Woodbridge I set another personal best, but only by a few seconds as opposed to the huge PR's I'd set the previous two trips to this invite.
I knew from the start of the season that there was no way I'd make the Varsity team. Two seniors from the previous year had graduated, but two new freshmen had joined the team -- and they were already running under 16 minutes. (One was the younger brother of two other XC runners.) Of course, I wasn't named a senior captain either -- all four Varsity seniors became captains.
But this time, we had a full JV team. The incoming Class of 2000 juniors was a much larger class of runners, and only two of them ran Varsity. I actually end up finishing in first place at two of the JV dual meets held on our home course -- and my times continued to improve throughout the year. At the last dual meet, my time was just one second slower than my Woodbridge time.
League Finals were held at the same university as the previous year. I knew that it was my final XC race and so I wanted to run as fast as I could. Along the final stretch I couldn't help but stare at my stopwatch to make sure that I had a good time. My time for my final race was 17:43, which was good enough for fourth place. The winner was our alternate Varsity runner who finished exactly a minute ahead of me, and the only other JV senior (who had missed his junior year of XC) finished exactly a minute behind me.
It's now believed that the League Finals race was somewhat short of three miles. Using a conversion factor that we were given after the race, my time converts to 17:57 for three miles. Therefore I can still say that I'm a sub-18 runner. At the end of the season, I received an award for the most outstanding JV runner -- and this is less trivial since we had a full JV team.
I still consider breaking 18 minutes in XC to be one of my greatest personal accomplishments -- even when compared to my times on the track. I fell just short of breaking five minutes in the 1600. I suppose my goal for the 3200 was 11 minutes (in other words, 5:00/mile for one mile, 5:30/mile for two miles, and 6:00/mile for three miles), but I never came close. I think I only ran the 3200 once during my senior year -- and I believe that my fastest ever 3200 was actually the first two miles of the XC race held on our home course. Instead of the 3200, I often ran the 800 -- and I don't even recall much about my 800 times. (I believe my best time was about 2:20-ish.)
Cross Country is the One True Sport. Everything else is just a game.
Cross Country and Academics
Some sports -- especially football and basketball -- have a reputation for attracting students who aren't interested in academics. For players hoping to get into Division I colleges, it's often an uphill battle to remain academically eligible by earning good grades and high SAT scores.
But this isn't the case with Cross Country. It seems that most Cross Country runners have excellent academic records. Most of my teammates were part of our magnet program. I wasn't -- but only because most students apply for the magnet in eighth grade, while I was still attending another district at the time. (As I wrote earlier, I transferred in the middle of freshman year.) Two years later, I was finally admitted to the magnet program -- in fact, it happened on the very day of League Finals.
The magnet program is considered to be a year ahead of the regular program. Therefore as a junior, I attended English and history with the sophomores. Some of those students would become my JV teammates the following year.
I suspect the reason that XC runners, unlike football players, basketball players, or other athletes, do well in school is because XC runners are used to doing something difficult and boring (that is, running) for long periods of time. We're used to working hard, enduring, and being persistent as we strive towards a goal, a finish line, that might be far away. This isn't to say that other athletes don't work hard, but the difference is that they're used to getting quick, visible results. We XC runners are more likely to think in terms of the big picture.
That XC runners tend to excel academically is most noticeable when we take a look at the LA City Section Finals results. In both the boys and girls Division I races, the top school is Granada Hills -- a charter that's best known for winning national Academic Decathlon titles. Two of the other top teams are El Camino and Pacific Palisades -- other charters with strong academic programs. I doubt that any of the Granada Hills Varsity runners are also on the Academic Decathlon team. Instead, the rigorous academic environment invites both Academic Decathletes and distance runners (who again are used to working hard for long periods of time).
In my last post, I wrote about Floyd Thursby, who decries teachers who don't want to work the Tuesday before Thanksgiving. He once also wrote about the last week of school -- and how many schools have teachers turn in grades early, so the last week is wasted. Many students believe that they're entitled to a week of no academics at the end of the year anyway.
But that's not the XC way of thinking. Taking the last week off of school is like pulling up in a race before crossing the finish line. We need to run hard through the finish line -- and so likewise students need to work hard through the last day of school.
Senioritis wasn't in my mind when I was in the twelfth grade. I worked hard on the XC course throughout my senior year, and I believe that I'm one of the few seniors to PR in my final race. The other senior who won the JV race that day was a Varsity alternate, and so League Finals would not be his final race. (As an alternate, he did run at Section Prelims.) I was the rare non-Varsity senior who actually worked hard to improve my times my final year.
And in fact, I worked hard academically during my second semester of senior year. I'd never earned straight A's in a semester before, always ending up with at least one B (often in English). But I failed to reach my goal -- instead I ended up with all A's except for two B's, both in English. (The extra English class was required by the magnet since I was a year behind, as stated earlier.)
I want to encourage my students to think more like distance runners -- even if they never run more than a mile at a time. Just before I started working at the old charter two years ago, I wrote about distance running, and how I'd mention it in class to encourage students to work harder. It failed -- because bringing up past events or comparing the students unfavorably to myself aren't effective ways of getting them to make better choices. If I wish to convince my students in the future to think like distance runners, I should do so more subtly.
McFarland USA
Christmas specials started airing on CBS last night with the classic Frosty the Snowman. I wrote before that no school would actually hold classes on Christmas Eve (as shown in the episode) -- that would be even worse than Floyd Thursby Day. In New York, school regularly lasts until December 23rd, unless this is the weekend (or Monday, as it is this year, to avoid a one-day week). Thus this year, no school will be open later than Friday, December 20th.
2019 update: Actually I read that New York teachers actually had to fight to get Monday, December 23rd off this year. The district actually tried to have classes that day:
Oh, and I noticed several Floyd Thursby wannabes in the comment thread there as well.
One of my favorite Christmas specials airs on CBS tonight -- Robbie the Reindeer. As it turns out, Robbie is Rudolph's son, but unlike his father, Robbie gets to participate in the Reindeer Games. This is a competition similar to, say, a Cross Country race. (Indeed the steeplechase, in which Robbie competes, is actually a distance event in track -- the 3000 steeple.) Yes, that's why I like it -- because it reminds me of my own days of distance running. I'm glad that the Robbie special is airing today -- on State Meet Saturday.
The one beef I have with it is an inconsistency with the original Rudolph (which will air this upcoming Tuesday). In the original, Donner is Rudolph's father, but in tonight's special, Donner is Rudolph's daughter-in-law. Thus not only has Donner switched generations but genders as well.
Four years ago, there was actually a Cross Country movie -- McFarland USA. When the movie first came out, I briefly mentioned it on the blog. But every year on State Meet Saturday, I watch this movie again. So I turn it on right after the Robbie special.
[2019 update: This year, I actually played this movie several times while subbing, mostly for Spanish classes. I mentioned these viewings on the blog throughout the year.]
Here is a description of the movie as written on the back of the DVD case:
In the tradition of Disney sports movies comes McFarland, USA, based on the inspiring true story of underdogs triumphing over tremendous obstacles. This heartwarming drama follows novice runners who strive to build a cross-country team under Coach Jim White (Kevin Costner) in their predominantly Latino high school. Everyone has a lot to learn about each other, but when Coach realizes the boys' exceptional running ability, things change. Beyond their talent, it's the power of family, commitment to each other and work ethic than transforms them into champions -- helping them achieve their own American dream.
Indeed, McFarland USA takes place on the first State Meet Saturday, back in 1987. (And no, it wasn't called Small Business Saturday back then.)
One thing I notice about the movie is that at no point is the distance of the race ever mentioned. It's possible to deduce the distance from a few clues in the movie -- first Coach White drives alongside his athletes and notices that they're running at 12mph, or 5:00/mile -- and then later on, they cross the finish line at around 15 or 16 minutes. But the words "three miles" or "5K" are never explicitly mentioned in the film.
What makes this amazing is that a detailed description of the scoring system is given. Just as Coach White explains in the movie, first place counts as 1 point, second place as 2 points, third place as 3 points, and so on. The point totals for the top five runners are added up to give a team score -- and of course, the lowest score wins.
Indeed, this is what makes the final scene so dramatic. For most of the season, Danny Diaz is McFarland's slowest runner -- he's only on the team to join his two older brothers. Yet due to an injury, the school's fifth runner finishes well off his usual pace. But much to the coach's surprise, Diaz comes in as the fifth and final scorer -- and his points are low enough for McFarland to win. Thus the movie successfully explains why his finishing as McFarland's fifth runner is so significant -- yet the film never specifies the exact distance of the race!
(Hmm, I wonder whether leaving out the distance is intentional. Perhaps the filmmakers wanted to inspire young high school students to try out for XC, but mentioning the distance might scare the potential runners away. Instead, focus on the fun and camaraderie displayed by the McFarland team.)
In the movie, the State Meet takes place in December -- and it appears to be in LA (since I thought I recognized Griffith Park in the background). In reality, the State Meet has never been held on any date other than the last Saturday in November, and it has never been held at any location other than Woodward Park in Fresno. What really makes the timing off is that the date the section finals, or "state qualifier," is given as November 26th. In 1987, this was a Thursday -- in other words, this was Thanksgiving Day. It's unlikely that a XC race would ever be held on the holiday itself. (That the coach rewards his runners by taking them to the beach on Thanksgiving is not an error -- this is California, after all.)
Here is a link to the actual results of the 1987 State Meet as depicted in the movie:
As you can see, the details of the race are correct in the movie. Danny Diaz really was McFarland's fifth finisher, with a time of 18:04. The distance of the race is 5K (5000 meters), which is a little more than three miles -- therefore my best time wouldn't have beaten Danny's. If I'd been in this race, my best time would have been closer to McFarland's sixth finisher (18:31).
A major theme in this movie is race -- as in ethnicity. (Yes, this is near the bottom of a vacation post, which is when I often write about race.) "White" is the name of the coach, but it's also his race. The runners, meanwhile, are all Hispanic. Thus when the runners call their coach "White" (or Blanco), the name has a double significance.
The first race that appears in the movie is an invitational. McFarland finishes in last place because they weren't used to running hills. (What did I say about hilly XC courses earlier?) So instead, White has them practice running on some mysterious white mounds in their hometown. The mounds turn out to be freshly picked almonds -- which offends the runners, many of whom spend hours every day doing the back-breaking work of picking them! (This explains why a recent DST/time zone proposal referred to the Central Valley as the "Almond Time Zone.") My own coach freshman year had to come up with some creative "hills" (either the bleachers at our school or the side of the flood control channels/riverbeds that I described earlier). My new school was closer to some real hills. (On that hill there was a hose that we sometimes drank water from, just like the runners in the movie.)
The next day, Coach White forgets his daughter's fifteenth birthday. Later on, he makes up for it with a traditional Mexican quinceanera. The family begins to embrace their new community.
Eventually, McFarland wins its first race -- a dual meet against Clovis, 27-28. Notice that the sum of the first ten natural numbers is 55, and so a score of 27 (or less) guarantees a victory. My own coach freshman year gave us the rule of thumb 1-2-5-9-10. These add up to 27, so if our school had the first, second, fifth, ninth, and tenth place finishers, we'd win the meet.
Oh, and Coach White has his runners prepare for the SAT. Yes, what was I saying about XC and academics earlier? At the end of the movie, it's revealed that all seven runners attend college. In fact, no one else in their respective families had yet to finish high school, much less college.
At the end of the movie, it's revealed that McFarland won nine state titles from 1987-2001. But it hasn't won any since. What happened?
Well, in 1987, McFarland won the Division III race. All the schools in the state were divided into three (now five) divisions based on enrollment. Since McFarland was a small school, it was always placed into one of the smaller divisions (from III to V).
But nowadays, divisions aren't based on enrollment but on performance. Due to its recent success, McFarland has been pushed up to Division I, where it must compete against Southern Section schools that are several times its size. This year, McFarland had only a lone individual girl at state -- her teammates didn't advance. The winning Division I team in boys, and the second place team in girls, are both from Great Oak in Temecula. The winning girls team this year is from Buchanan, just a few miles away from Woodward Park. (Great Oak has over 3000 students and Buchanan has about 2700, while McFarland has a mere 700.)
T-Minus: The Race to the Moon, Pages 46-72
We left off right here in Southern Calfornia. One scientist, Storms (nickname "Stormy"), is informing his family that he's leaving on a mission.
Wife: You're going to see Dr. von Braun?
Storms: Yep.
Son: Wow, Werner von Braun. I saw him on TV! Cool! Do you know what he wants, Dad?
Storms: Maybe. Not sure, though. Gotta go.
Wife: Stormy! When will you be back?
The next scene is set at North American Aviation -- Downey, California -- 1962. (One of my former districts where I subbed is Downey. This includes some subbing days mentioned on the blog. I know that there is now a street there named Columbia, and a museum where North American Aviation used to be located.)
Storms: NASA's already changing something?! What? Pure O_2 [oxygen] for the CSM? Don't like it! Dangerous! Gotta take it up with them this afternoon.
Here Ottaviani explains, "CSM = Command Service Module = What the astronauts will live in on the way to (and from) the moon." The scientists continue to argue over the project:
Storms: Discuss. We decide today.
John Paup: ...We don't get to build the Lunar Excursion Module if we choose this. It's bad for the company.
Harrison Storms: Yeah, but... the whole Apollo program, you know?
Paup: Yeah, I know.
Storms: All, right, decision. C.C.? Max?
Paup: The Space Task Group thinks LOR [Lunar Orbit Rendezvous] is the way to go.
C.C.: Speaking for the Rocket Launch and Booster Groups here at Marshall, I agree. Storms, can North American build a Lunar Excursion Module for LOR?
Storms: Nope. Can't do it. [An audible gasp is heard.] Doesn't matter though -- we'll get you there. Someone else will build the... thing... that lands. The point is to do it! So, any idiots out there thinking LOR isn't the right thing? [Many start shouting out questions.] OK, then it is settled. I will write the memo and get it approved. You people get back to work... and get it done. Let us go!
Let's skip forward some time to when the LOR is in orbit. John Glenn becomes the first American to orbit the earth. (This is the climax of the Hidden Figures movie.)
Glenn: Why the...? Hmm. Say again your instructions please. Over.
Mission Control: We are recommending that the retro-package not, I say again, not be jettisoned.
Glenn: Roger, understand. I will have to make a manual 0.05 G entry when it occurs... Is that affirm?
Mission Control: That is affirmative, Friendship 7.
Glenn (falling rapidly towards earth): SXXKX -- Ship 7 XKSSX pack SKXXS let go. This is Friend -- SXXKX XXKSS real fire SKKXXX outside.
Mission Control: 7, this is Cape. What's your general condition?
Glenn: My condition is good, but that was a real fireball, boy. I had great chunks of that retro-pack breaking off all the way through.
Mission Control: Very good. It did break off, is that correct?
Glenn: Roger. Ready for impact, almost down. (His capsule in the water.) Condition OK. Does the capsule look like it's OK? Over.
Rescue Helicopter: Friendship 7, reference your last -- affirmative. Capsule looks good from here. Over.
Glenn: Roger, understand they want me to say in the capsule until rescue...
Russian #1: Ha, rescue! They need to rescue their cosmonauts.
Russian #2: The chief designer will find this most interesting.
The next scene continues from the Russian perspective. Two cosmonauts are about to learn about their next mission:
Commander: Valentina (Tereshkova), Valery (Bykovsky). No, sit... Please sit. So... You understand the upcoming mission?
Valentina: Yes, sir.
Valery: Sir. Yes sir.
Valentina: Excellent, a long-duration flight is an important milestone, and two at once? The wold will look up in amazement, and if we arrange things carefully -- they will see something even more amazing.
Commander: Come, let me show you what's next. As you know, you are the last of the Vostok missions. Next will be Voskhod.
Valery: But sir...
Commander: Yes, you see it. It's a Vostok capsule, but without the ejection seat. It will land, with retro-rockets. And we are removing some other unessential things, to make room for more than one cosmonaut -- if they don't all wear space suits.
Valentina: No suits? ...Sir?
Their mission is a success. Valentina becomes the first woman in space, and Valery is part of the first long-duration mission (nearly five days).
We now move up to the second Voskhod mission, with Pavel Belyayev and Alexei Leonov:
Alexei (floating in space): I'm... I'm feeling perfect.
Daughters (watching on TV): That's Daddy? What is he doing? Tell Daddy to get back inside!
Old man: Why is he acting like a juvenile delinquent? Everyone else can complete their mission properly from inside the spacecraft. He must be punished for this.
20 minutes later...
Alexei: Okay...
Later, the Voskhod is about to land back on earth:
Commander: Enough! First... Everybody sit down. What is our status?
Scientist: The automatic re-entry system has failed, and we can't, well...
Commander: Understood. Hand me that headset, please. ...One more orbit to prepare the manual retro-rockets and check Voskhod's altitude. It will take you extra time, so yes, you'll overshoot the landing site. Don't worry, Alexei... It will be fine.
(Soon, the cosmonauts finally land.)
Pavel: Well, the chief designer was right... We overshot the landing site from our mission profile! Plenty of wood out there, though -- tomorrow we'll make a campfire. It will keep us warm, and guide the rescue helicopter. But tonight? Well... not as cold as space at least, and fresh air!
Alexei: Hmm... and visitors.
(Some wolves start to growl and howl at the capsule, which is stuck in a tree.)
T-minus 4 years, 3 months, 27 days:
American Commander: ...No, no... we congratulate the Soviets on their spectacular success. It's a remarkable achievement.
Audience Member: How does this change the plans for Gemini 3.
Commander: No change. John [Young] and Gus [Grissom] are gonna fly the mission they trained for, which is to check out their spacecraft. They'll make sure it's ready for something big in Gemini 4.
(Meanwhile in Russia: "Here are some supplies! Aw...)
Audience Member: Something big? What?!
Commander: Thanks boys. That's all.
C.C.: We do have a surprise, don't we?
Commander: We'll have to come up with one.
Our final scene for now takes place at the Space Task Group's New Headquarters -- Houston, Texas.
Leader: Gentleman, we were planning a "Mini Eva" [extravehicular activity] scheduled for your Gemini 4 flight. But in light of recent events, we think it prudent to reevaluate the situation.
(Meanwhile in Russia: "And skis!" as the wolves keep on howling.)
Leader: As such, the profile has undergone rigorous and detailed --
Ed White (pilot): If I'm not just poking my head out the door, what will it be?
Jim McDwitt: "Yeah, if you're not gonna have us do medical experiments, tests, and other assorted junk... then what?
Leader: You'll get some new assorted junk.
Ed White: But Ed's gonna get a new suit, and a gun.
Conclusion
Sometimes I wonder what my XC teammates are doing now. One of the senior captains (from my sophomore year) eventually became a math teacher at our school, and he coached the girls XC team as well. Recently he stepped down from coaching and teaching math.
But now Thanksgiving break is almost over, and it's time to start thinking about teaching math (and other classes) again. Maybe someday I really will inspire my math students to think like distance runners -- but that's neither here nor there.
And the break is over -- but our reading of Ottaviani's book is not. Even though I would have liked to finish the book during the break, I'll extend our reading by one more week so that we can complete it.
Both of my districts will reopen on Monday, and so that's when my next post will be. I hope you enjoyed your Thanksgiving.
