Never having been to the state high school track championship meet before, I wasn’t sure what to expect as I settled onto a roasting bleacher Saturday at the Jefferson County Stadium.

For example, do you get to bet on the participants, as in horse racing? (Apparently not). And how can you possibly know who’s ahead in the sea of sleek red, green and purple jerseys which cascade across grass, over poles and around curved track? I couldn't figure that out since no tally board was visible, and no announcer could be heard.

But it didn’t take long to pick up the pulse of the 4A and 5A championship event because an elderly gentlemen wearing a khaki sun hat was seated next to me. I noticed he kept squinting at the silver Seiko watch on his wrist, occasionally stopping to nibble on a Graham cracker

After watching him click the chronometer a few times, we began to talk. I learned that he was Glenn Peterson (“two Ns” he said with a smile). The trim 79-year-old knew a thing or two about the proceedings. After all, he said, he had “the best job in the world” – cross-country coach for Air Academy High School in Colorado Springs. And even though he had retired as a teacher in 1989 -- having begun his career there in 1956 – he kept up with the program. “Someone has to drive the pickup truck and bring the water,” he laughed.

He’s the guy who remembers things like giving a potato to a runner with an acid stomach to keep him from throwing up. “Sometimes it works,” Peterson said with a shrug. Same fellow with the experience to point out to a frustrated freshman runner that just taking a tick off each lap would put him under the time he needed to qualify, instead of worrying about the total number he needed to improve. As Peterson said, a kid can be stopped by a brick wall, but give him a hammer, “and he’ll have a brick out in five minutes.”

Turns out this coach has an annual invitational cross-country meet named for him down in the Springs. It’s not surprising, really. Glenn's done pretty well. His team took five second place finishes in the state meet during the 1990s – but never quite won the title, missing once by a second or so. Peterson laughs, and then points out he doesn’t have seniority in the field: Another coach is already in his 80s.

But he’s probably unmatched in passion. He admitted he was conflicted sitting there because his school’s baseball team was playing for the state crown not far away at Denver South High School field. Still, he was probably where he should be, even though there weren’t any Academy runners in the finals that day. His eyes seemed to have particular focus on the distance events – especially the grueling 3,200 event - two-mile runs that tested the grit of each young man and woman on the reddish track.

As the defending state 4A champ Kevin Williams of D’Evelyn (above) took his marks – the favorite with No. 1 pinned to his shorts – Peterson pointed out another runner, ranked fifth, who might give Williams a challenge. Peterson happened to know that runner had posted a faster time at sea level. It wasn’t to be – as the dark horse cramped, and Williams led the pack to the wire, finishing as Peterson and others stood applauding the effort that smashed the old state 4A record. The applause continued as the final runner came in.

Soon, the afternoon was over. Athletes began gathering their gear and taking down tents, taking pictures, milling with parents and friends; some had climbed podiums, others had stumbled and fallen. Glenn Peterson smiled through it all. I’ve never been to a high school cross-country meet. But I’ll try to be at one next fall featuring the Air Academy Kadets. I’d like to see how the guy who drives the truck does with his latest crop of runners.