Fighting through It: A Review of Running with the Buffaloes by Chris Lear

Somewhere out there, in some college textbook, there exists a guide that walks aspiring writers through exactly how to process and write about the books that they read. If someone were to walk up to me and offer me a copy of such a guide, I would thank her or him (I'm a very polite person, eager to please), and then go home and throw that guide in the trash or, if I lived in a house with a fireplace, burn it.

Because every book is different, and deserves to be processed and loved or hated on its own terms. That's what I'm trying to do on this blog. To let books, music, and movies speak to me, then to have a good time writing about what I heard.

I think that our official guide to reviewing books would have me poo-poo Running with the Buffaloes for its heavy use of runner's jargon, its typos, its lack of engaging sensory information, and its brief, episodic chapters. That alone is another good reason to scrap our theoretical guide, because outside of those technicalities, Running with the Buffaloes is a lot of fun to read. Especially if you're a runner, which is what I am.

In fact, author Chris Lear's decision to present a season in the life of Colorado University's notorious men's cross-country team without adornement, without much additional information, and with minimal dialogue, kinda works in its favor. At least to me.

Last April, when I read Christopher McDougal's Born to Run, it gave me this idea of the glory of running, the potential for exploration, and the possibility of running really, really far. Which, during the year after I read it, I did.

Now, in March of the following year, suffering from an injury, feeling discouraged at how slow I am, wondering if I'll be able to keep at this whole running thing, I feel a little ticked at BtR for its hyped-up promises. Which is why the sparse, brutal, and focused RwB works so well for me.

It talks about the injuries and fatigue that sideline even the best runners. It tackles the despair and emotional tension that attack endurance athletes, and examines how those who triumph do so. And its short, point-by-point chapters capture the blend of suffering, monotony, competition, and drive that make up the day-to-day training and life of a runner.

So, despite what a technical point-by-point review would say, RwB is a great read in its own way, and comfortably makes it onto a very short list of my favorite running books.