SOUTHERN SECTION TRACK AND FIELD CHAMPIONSHIPS : Caulkins Doesn’t Miss a Beat, On or Off the Track

Take a bow, Mrs. Trefrey, take a bow. Track and field needs more music teachers like you. You could have been strict, you could have been mean. You could have said, “Now listen here, Carrie Caulkins. I don’t care what track meet you’re running in this weekend, I want you at the spring recital Saturday afternoon on time and properly dressed--or else.”

But instead, you said go ahead. Go ahead, Carrie. Run both your races Saturday at Cerritos College. Squeeze the recital in when you can. Don’t worry about showering or doing your hair. Forget the frilly dress, high heels and pantyhose. Just get here when you’re able.

Say “classical music” to some kids and they’ll probably run the other way. Not Caulkins. The Esperanza sophomore was so inspired to make it to her recital, she won the 1,600-meter final at the Southern Section championships in a school-record 4 minutes 59.35 seconds.

How did she celebrate the victory? Well, let’s see. She dashed to the car, drove to the recital in Anaheim, rushed in wearing her running shoes and sweats, hoped she wasn’t too stinky as she plunked herself down among those in suits and ties and formal gowns and whipped off an oh-so lovely “Sonata for Flute” by Hindemith. She then sprinted to her car, sped back to the track, grabbed her spikes and, after a few moments rest, starting warming up for the 3,200.

Tired? Wiped out? Ready to call it a day? Hardly. Caulkins placed third in the 3,200 in 11:04.49--a school record by three seconds, a career best by eight.

It’s funny. Some people bathe their houseplants in the sounds of Bach and Beethoven to encourage them to grow. Caulkins, in only her second season of running, uses classical tunes to make her legs go. Her inspiration, 19th-century German composer Paul Hindemith, would be proud. He probably never figured a way to run track and write music himself.

But let’s not get carried away. Caulkins--a member of the Aztec marching, concert and honor band, and a piccolo player to boot--shouldn’t be labeled simply as a runner-musician. She’s a National Honor Society member. She works as a peer counselor at school. She submits poetry and essays to something called the Creative Impulse Club.

She writes poems about running. She plans to write one about winning. She writes about whatever her muse is in the mood for, she says. Of course, if that’s true, Saturday’s races ought to make for a Carrie Caulkins epic.

In the 1,600, Caulkins won by holding off Corona del Mar freshman sensation Kelly Campbell, second in 4:59.75--a career best and the third-fastest time for a freshman in county history. Caulkins beat Campbell by one place in the 3,200, too.

If Caulkins was squeezed for time Saturday, Campbell could relate. Her club volleyball team was playing in a tournament in Long Beach and her volleyball coach wanted her there. She compromised by running the 1,600 and 3,200--and getting to Long Beach for an early-evening match.

Wait a minute. What is it with these young runners? Don’t they know you have to sacrifice everything to get anywhere in track and field? Don’t they realize it takes, not months, but years and years before all those miles of training pay off?

Caulkins laughs and she shrugs. She doesn’t know quite what to say. She only tried running once before high school, when she was 8. She ran a 1 1/2-mile race and won it, but she didn’t feel compelled to run again until last year.

After Saturday, she a bit more convinced about her ability.

“Oh yeah,” Caulkins says, “it’s natural. I don’t work very hard at all. But I’m going to start taking it more seriously.”

Which, of course, is just what the plodders of the world love to hear. Another natural. Another track-burner by birth. There should be a law. Caulkins says her goal is to run around 4:50 in the 1,600 this year. Lots of new runners can do that--if you give them a one-lap head start.

Caulkins, like Campbell, has a smooth stride and a seemingly effortless style. You can hardly tell if she’s breathing until the final few laps. You watch her run, you look at her times. You can’t help but shake your head.

“She’s kind of like a jewel in the raw,” Esperanza Coach Rich Medellin says. “She’s very good. A diamond. But we have to refine her. The challenge for me as a coach is I need to be patient with her.”

As a certain music teacher could have told him.