BY BAILEE COFER
The telltale signs of an ending summer are beginning to appear on Drake’s campus.
First-year students roam the hallways wondering where room 212 is, one or two people have contracted pink eye from the foam party, the Drake squirrels are tying on their dinner bibs and the ever-present background noise of coaches on blow horns drifts in from the stadium. Many a student dreads this time of the year—but not the cross-country runner.
The cross-country runner has spent the past three months rolling out of bed before dawn, lacing up their shoes and plodding out into the dark and empty streets to get in a bout of training before the heat hits.