High Performance Center

As I finished running a strider before the workout, one of my teammates came up beside me and said that we needed to get started, because she was getting jittery; I must admit I felt much the same. This was simply a workout- something we do two or three times a week, and yet I almost felt like I was about to start a race. Something was certainly special about this place.

As we finished one of our 400s, we looked over to the entrance area, where some older people were standing around, looking at the building and watching the track team workout. After years of training inside an old historic building, we were not used to people dropping by to check out the freshness. It took me back to last week, when we had the grand opening for the public. Hundreds of people- young, old, runners, non-runners- came out to celebrate. We heard from the some of the wealthiest most influential leaders in the community, and even had a ceremonial breaking of the tape where some of us ran around a small portion of the track and ran through a finishing tape while everyone stood around, clapped, and took pictures. Yet, amidst all the energy, there was a distinct silence in the building.

The inside is so incredibly massive in size and unparalleled in design that even a gathering such as this could not swallow up the quiet resting in far parts of the building. Athletes demonstrating in the other half of the buildings were tiny specks in another world. If they yelled, we may not be able to hear what they say. The roof is far over our heads, and looking into the oval lighting can be euphoric even. We have moved all of our track stuff over from the Hyslop- mats, carts, implements, hurdles- and yet the space still seems empty.

As we continued to pump out 400s it dawned on me that a large majority of the track team was in the building at that moment, and yet the amount of open area was stunning. Most lanes were dormant and the turf was recovering from whenever last the football team used it. A thought crossed my mind, one that I have many times in the past couple weeks: it is surreal that this is for us. Throughout my college career we have been to some beautiful track facilities, and I always marvel in jealousy at the host school and how lucky they are to not only have the facility to host meets, but also to train in. Now we have a 300-meter indoor track with the nicest surface money can buy surrounding a full-length turf football field. We have, no matter the time of year, a place to train where it is 60 degrees and not windy. We have space to accomplish what we want to accomplish. We have full length runways and pits for the jumping events. It continually blows my mind. Maybe to truly appreciate a place such as this, one must come from humble circumstances.

Of course, the grand opening to the public wasn't the first time we were thrown under the radar this fall. A few weeks before that there was a track and field reunion coinciding with the home cross country meet weekend, and that brought oodles of people from all over the place to come check out the new digs. The highlight of my day may have been noticing halfway through a conversation that I was talking to a 7-foot high jumper (he jumped that high- I mean he was tall but not that tall) and school record holder, but the excitement pulsing through the crowd of people was real. I watched as kids ran down the track, smiles erupting from their faces. I saw elderly folks walking around the track, soaking in the large posters on the wall, showing off famous athletes and teams (and the names of the donors for the pictures) of old. Most people could only say 'wow'. This had finally happened.

Yes, this was a long time coming. My freshman year my senior captain told me that when he was recruited in high school he had been promised this building. I've heard stories of people back into the late 90s being promised this building. Many people speculated that it would never be done as a result. It sits literally on the foundation of the old hockey arena, a place where my coach has said that the distance runners would go run 200m repeats in the winter, but eventually were barred from doing so because the building was condemned. Cradled next to Memorial Stadium, now it stands above other nearby buildings, proudly blazing the lit up interlocking ND into the dark skies of late fall in North Dakota, a sign of what has been made.

Going even farther back, UND was founded in an interesting place. At the time a university was scrapped together a mile outside the actual city of Grand Forks, isolated on the prairie. In every direction from the campus there was nothing but wheat bending in the breeze for miles. Trees? Nah. Water? Well the Red River was a few miles away if that dirty thing counts. Civilization? Eh, kind of. However, some visionaries decided that a university of higher learning was necessary to civilize the plains a little. Now we have a law school, med school, aviation school, business school, and everything in between. Every time something like the HPC is built, we are telling a story of strength. We can defeat the North Dakota winters. We can defeat the nothingness of the prairies. We do not have to be at disadvantage simply because of where we are from. It is a symbol of the heart of the people here.

We are going on cooldown now. We leave the building and go into this tiny little parking lot on the North side. We have to be a little careful, because the raised sidewalk is the same color as the parking lot, and Ryan almost ate a cement sandwich last week when he didn't notice that. We go around the dirt that has been seeded to raise some grass in the spring and head out into the city. When we come back, a travel bus sits in the parking lot. We speculate who it might be. Is it the football team UND plays tomorrow? Is is the volleyball team UND played yesterday? As we go into the HPC, it turns out to be a group of people checking out the building- standing over the railing and taking it all in. They seem as stunned as we were the first time we saw it. We went down the stairs to the track area. Yup, still pretty quiet.

As we packed up and left, I forgot to turn around and take a good look before we left. Oh well, I suppose we'll be in here quite a few times between now and May. Maybe by then I'll accept this gracious donation and stop being in shock that we actually get to train here. Then again, maybe not. How could one ever become accustomed to such a wonderful place? We now have a place to show off; we have a house to protect.