For now over 75 years, The Baylor Line has been publishing vivid storytelling from across the Baylor Family. I don’t think our archives full of deep, inspirational features should live solely on shelves, so we are bringing them back to life in BL Classics. This June 1978 first-person Classic takes readers inside Bear Downs, Baylor’s annual scholarship bicycle race, where five-man teams compete in sprints and endurance events at H.O.T. Coliseum. The writer breaks down the three training philosophies riders swear by — prayer, fanaticism, and short-term torture — with humor and self-deprecating honesty. It’s a lighthearted look at competitive spirit, campus tradition, and the scholarship dollars it all supports for deserving Baylor students.
Bear downs is an annual bicycle race sponsored by Student Foundation to focus local, student, and alumni attention on the group’s fine efforts raising scholarships for deserving Baylor students.
The race features 21 five-man teams competing for prizes by collecting points in a combination of individual and team sprints and a 30-mile endurance event. Bear Downs has been held the past eight years each spring in H.O.T. Coliseum.
Anyone who’s been to Bear Downs knows it’s exciting. Some suggest it’s insane, while mothers may feel it’s barbaric. Well, I’ve been in it six years now, and believe me, it’s fun.
The majority of Bear Downs riders are like I am—a frustrated ex-high school jock trying to recapture a taste of the glory days. We’ll try anything: intramurals, beard-growing contests, tournaments ranging from billiards to tennis to horseshoes, and even academic achievement (as a last resort). We are after the attention a winner receives; but more than that, we are driven by a competitive instinct flowing through our veins.
Now the trouble with entering Bear Downs to feed one’s athletic desire is that the race requires endurance as well as natural ability. So training has become an important factor to consider. Basically, there are three training philosophies adopted by the riders each year (usually, but not necessarily, a team will agree on a single method). The titles are my own.
The first philosophy is called the “Prayer” method. A rider training in this manner simply does not train at all. He doesn’t ride or even look at his bike except possibly to move it while cleaning his apartment. The prayer comes on the day of the race, and is divided among three groups: (1) his parents and friends, who pray he doesn’t break his neck, (2) the other riders, who pray he doesn’t collapse in front of them, and (3) the rider himself, who prays it will all end quickly and painlessly. He probably wishes, too, he had used a different training method.
The second method is related to the first in that both involve religion (of a sort); it is called the “fanatic” philosophy. Some dedicated riders will bike twenty to thirty miles a day as naturally as I walk to class. They may begin preparing for the April race in the fall, and will train seriously beginning no later than February. I was lucky enough to be the mechanic (non-rider) on a team of such zealots—thanks again for the T.V., guys—and have a deep respect for their commitment to the sport. But my basically lazy nature has kept me from joining the sect.
For me and most of the glory-hungry Bear Downs competitors, the third philosophy, known as the “short-term torture” method, is the choice alternative to methods one and two. Beginning about a month before the race, we will force ourselves to do whatever it takes to whip us into the shape needed on race day. I’ve always found jogging and riding the hills in Cameron Park painfully beneficial; others might choose to swim and lift weights. David Wilson had great success in ’74 running stadium steps. It may be painful then, but the hope of glory drives us on. (I have to admit it gets tougher every year.)
There is no way to describe the sensation I feel every time I get back on the H.O.T. track—in one instant all my competitive desires are fed and simultaneously driven to a new appetite. Winning becomes secondary to putting forth my best effort. I realize, too, when the names of those $500 scholarship recipients are announced, that the Baylor family is the real winner in Bear Downs. I’m just glad that what’s good for Baylor is so much fun for me.
