With the passing of each academic year, I consider my annual self-directed question, "Is it time to get out?"

As a Division III cross country coach, maybe the question is better worded, "Is it time to stop?" I just went through the 5K mark at the end of last fall -- do I have what it takes to make 6, 8 or 10K? My own competitive-racing distance seemed to peak at 5K and had a ceiling of 10K. Should my vocational race correspond?

But the value of coaching cannot be categorized by distance alone. Each woman and man faces a laundry list of considerations when assessing whether "it's the right time." For me, the critical element centers on support in our working environment. In the long run, does my work matter?

Value. Let's face it, the glory days of cross country and track and field are (temporarily, at least) behind us. The general public and the institutions of higher learning lost their peak interest after the 1976 Olympic Games in Montreal. Both super-athletics powers traded boycotts over the next eight years. The initial running boom quieted down. Amateurism lost its legs. And with a few exceptions here and there, American distance runners disappeared from the competitive radar. All of this combined with other factors to kill the marketability of running-event sports. Most kids are out kicking soccer balls instead of kicking to the finish line. In other words, we've lost value as far as sports go -- to the public and to the potential athletes.

What that means for coaches now is that we are faced with having to both coach our student-athletes to succeed in the sport and coach our own departments and institutions in order to survive as a sport. Whereas track and field used to be considered an integral component in the development of athletes who excelled in football, basketball and soccer, the present environment in collegiate athletics makes accusations that we are detracting from the athlete's primary sport development, increasing injury risks and proving to be a cost-prohibitive sport.

More than three-quarters of the athletes I've coached came to the sport because they were "rejected" from another sport or because they were burned out from 10 or 12 years of playing the same game. They know more about the history and happenings of sports they do not play than the one they've found a late-blooming niche in. The mention of names such as Jim Ryun, Gerry Lindgren, Marty Liquori, Craig Virgin and Alberto Salazar -- men who were like Greek gods to me -- draw blank stares from them.

As coaches, we are expected to know about the rules and premier athletes in the sports of our peers. How many of these women and men know anything about what we do? "So, what do you guys do for practice, run?" is too often the extent of dialogue we receive from other coaches, educators and administrators. I always harbor a desire to respond, "Oh, no, we have an extensive playbook we go through each week in preparation for our racing opponents." Either way, their interest in the conversation would probably end at that point anyway. Besides, in order to ensure our own survival, we do need to continuing trying to educate others to the fact that running is the core ingredient in nearly all "sports." Running cross country or competing in track and field is probably the sport that gives back to other sports in terms of training and conditioning.

Over the past few years, we've found our heads on the butcher block far too often. Will cutting a four-figure (combined to cover men's and women's teams) cross country budget really save money and enhance the co-curricular value of an athletics department? Granted, a track program is substantially more expensive in relation to cross country, but when you break it down to dollars per athlete, track and field would be near the top of best buys in athletics.

Is the issue really about saving or making money? Why is "revenue- producing" associated only with athletics departments? Aren't we involved in the education, mentoring and development of student-athletes to nearly the same degree (and in some cases a greater degree) as the other departments at colleges and universities? Call me an idealist, but I thought the purpose of athletics (particularly Division III) was to round out and provide a more holistic educational experience. Are we simply "job-training" the graduates of this generation, or is it our responsibility to encourage the development of their ability to think, make decisions and remain engaged in the world around them?

As an educator -- I am confident this is what I do -- the choice I find I am faced with again and again is whether the value the students have put on me is enough to offset the mood of indifference and toleration that generally greets my vocational effort by other participants in the same arena. Most of the women and men in our profession are part-time or combined-job employees at our institutions. Our salaries run much lower those of our departmental colleagues. Operating budgets for our teams look more like race distances (in meters) than a realistic way to run an athletics program. But very much like the way we run, we keeping chugging ahead. We hang on hoping desperately for a second wind that is unlikely to come and provide an extra boost of energy and morale. Maybe we'll even be shown a degree of appreciation.

So why don't we stop and look for something better? Speaking from my own heart, I think the women and men coaching running-centered teams (especially those who are runners themselves) see the world through philosophical eyes rather than athletic ones. Our sport instills and nurtures clarity, hope and understanding. And it requires love of hard work, challenges, obstacles and even suffering.

So, when our professional working conditions erode into these very same things, we act instinctively and tell ourselves that we can go another mile, that we might feel better after the next hill or that there is something right and important in what we do. "One more mile," I say to myself. "I'll see how I feel at that point and then decide whether to go on." I may never be a Bob Fraley at Fresno State, nor should I have to finish my career the way he did, offering to continue coaching without compensation in order to save the track program from being cut. Right now, I just want the opportunity for a stable career.

Stephen Leonard is the head coach of cross country and track and field at Gordon College.