Prep Cross Country: Running Against Time; Fall Neighbors Cup Standings

On November 8, 2025, Albuquerque Academy was once again the gathering place for New Mexico’s elite distance runners. It was a cool morning, with sunshine beaming through a Toy Story sky, and while the clouds were broken, the spirits of our student-athletes were not. Twenty boys and seventeen girls from our broader community arrived at cross country’s ground zero ready to ignite the last bit of fuel saved for the season’s ultimate competition.

We speak of meets as if they are moments in time when athletes find new ways to score points, but in cross country, points aren’t earned in a single instant. Favor is earned slowly and arduously over the course of a season—or longer. There is no last-second stroke of genius that turns the tide, no singular moment when fortune intervenes. On this road to serendipity, the object is not the destination; it is the path itself. And always, there is time.

In a season dominated by touchdowns, goals, and kills, cross country stands apart. The opponent isn’t the runner across the line—it is the immutable ticking of the clock. These student-athletes spend months tilting at that windmill known as time, measuring progress not in wins and losses, but in seconds shaved away through repetition, discipline, and resolve. It is for this reason that Neighbors Cup scoring for individual sports deviates from the norm. Points are not awarded for placement, but for participation: one-half point for every runner who qualifies for and competes in the state championship meet.

In cross country, the beauty of the sport lies in a paradox—solitude within a crowd. A runner may not have a full team pushing alongside her, but the competition itself becomes the catalyst for excellence. Motivation is often drawn not from cheers on the sidelines, but from the presence of rivals chasing the same finish line, stride for stride, breath for breath. Even without teammates nearby, runners carry with them a shared understanding: every competitor on the course has endured the same early mornings, the same burning lungs, the same quiet doubts. Teamwork here is not always visible, but it is deeply felt.

Centennial(CEN10XC) runners Keller Ford, Eva Nolan, Sanija Goins and Mason Dean field questions as a team at LCPS’s Fall Sports Media Day. (Las Cruces Digest Photo by Kcenia Gwaltney)

Of all of the schools in our broader community, Centennial High School demonstrated the strongest team spirit. While they did not have any runaway champions, they made up for it with a positive team mentality that carried their program to a higher level. When asked what is hardest part about the sport, and what motivates student athletes to keep coming back, Cen10XC runner Keller Ford responded:

“Consistency is the hardest part. It is really hard to wake up at five, 5:30, every morning, and just say, I’m gonna go run six or seven miles. It’s difficult, but it’s worth it in the long run. Stick with it and that’s when you start having fun; that’s when you start to get really good.”

Unlike last year, when area schools filled rosters to compete on the same stage as nationally ranked Corbin Coombs—whose individual championship propelled Organ Mountain to a state runner-up finish in a coach’s swan-song season—only two area schools fielded complete teams at this year’s state meet. Centennial and Organ Mountain paced one another throughout the season, and each earned three Neighbors Cup points apiece for both boys and girls competition (six total per school).

Individually, Organ Mountain’s tradition continued through two remarkable underclassmen. Ashley Galaz returned to the state stage after competing among New Mexico’s elite as an eighth grader a year ago. Now a freshman running fully under the Knight banner, Galaz finished third overall—an extraordinary result at the very beginning of her high school career. On the boys’ side, another Coombs stepped into the spotlight. Sophomore Daxton Coombs finished ninth overall, earning a medal and recording the fastest time of any area runner.

The second-fastest boys’ time belonged to Las Cruces High senior Jacob Sierra, whose performance contributed to the 1½ Neighbors Cup points earned by the Bulldawgs. Mayfield also claimed 1½ points, while Chaparral earned a point for its two qualifiers, and Santa Teresa added a half-point through its lone state competitor.

Organ Mountain’s continued success, carried by Galaz and Coombs, represents the pinnacle of individual achievement in area cross country. Their performances reflect years of quiet dedication—daily miles logged without applause, workouts designed to chase fractions of seconds, and a willingness to embrace discomfort long before most of their peers. To compete at this level so early in their high school journeys is a testament not only to talent, but to patience and discipline forged well before the spotlight arrived.

Ashley Galaz (left) finishes with a smile at this year’s Centennial XC event. She had a lot to smile about, finishing her freshman year in 3rd Place at the 2025 New Mexico Cross Country State Championships at a 10-second faster pace than the year before. Daxton Coombs also dominates at Centennial XC meet, finishing the year with a medal for 9th Place at this year’s state meet. (Las Cruces Digest Photos by Kcenia Gwaltney)

While the spotlight often settles on medalists, some of the most compelling stories unfold farther down the results sheet. For the boys, Las Cruces High senior Jacob Sierra delivered a career-defining performance in his final high school race. Though he finished just outside the medals, Sierra posted a time 15 seconds faster than his run on the same course a year ago—a staggering improvement at this level. For comparison, even Daxton Coombs improved by five seconds. Sierra carried with him the weight of an entire program, ensuring that Bulldawg tradition remained firmly planted in the cross country landscape.

When asked how a runner copes with those moments on the course when there are no external motivations to drive a runner, Sierra responded:

“I think it is just a lot of grit… I do run a lot by myself, and that really helps with… being there, mentally. You have to stay focussed on that day, and just not slow down.”

State meet competitors from Las Cruces High School, Sofia Amato and Jacob Sierra at the LCPS Media Day event. (Las Cruces Digest Photo)

On the girls’ side, the most dramatic interpersonal battle belonged to Mayfield senior Arabella Richardson. One of only two Trojan girls to qualify for state, Richardson refused to yield to the deeper rosters surrounding her. She finished with the second-fastest time among area runners, edging Centennial senior Eva Nolan by just over a second. A year ago, Richardson had finished more than 30 seconds ahead of Nolan. This time, the roles nearly reversed. At the first split, Richardson led by more than two seconds. By the second, Nolan had surged ahead by four. At the finish, Richardson summoned one final kick—just enough to reclaim the edge. In a sport defined by solitude, this rare head-to-head duel became a shared moment of competitive brilliance.

Mayfield’s Arabella Richardson finds the will to surge past Centennial’s Eva Nolan at the finish line of the 2025 New Mexico Cross Country State Championships on November 8. (Photo Courtesy Wingfoot Finish)

In moments like these, cross country reveals its most human truth: even when runners stand alone on paper, they are never truly alone on the course. Rivalry becomes motivation. Presence becomes partnership. Athletes without the benefit of full teams often discover their greatest strength in the competitors around them, drawing energy from the simple refusal of others to slow down. It is here—between exhaustion and resolve—that the sport finds its deepest meaning.

As the fall season comes to a close, the Neighbors Cup standings reflect the breadth of achievement across our broader community. Las Cruces finished atop the table with 12½ points, followed closely by Centennial with 12 and Organ Mountain with 11. Santa Teresa earned 8½ points, Hatch Valley finished with 6, Chaparral with 5, Mesilla Valley Christian and Gadsden with 4 apiece, and Mayfield with 2½.

Yet cross country reminds us that numbers only tell part of the story. The true measure of this season lies in the runners who toed the line knowing the odds, chased time without guarantees, and carried their schools mile after mile with quiet pride. In a fall filled with spectacle, it was these athletes—often unseen, rarely celebrated—who embodied the purest expression of sport. Their races did not end at the finish line; they carried forward into a legacy of perseverance that will outlast any single season.

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What We Learned from Fall Sports

When the Neighbors Cup was conceived, it was never meant to crown a single winner and move on. It was designed as a lens—a way to slow the season down long enough to see what usually blurs past on Friday nights, weekday gyms, and quiet Saturday mornings. Over the course of this fall, that lens revealed something both familiar and surprising: excellence here does not belong to one school, one class, or one sport. It is distributed unevenly, sometimes unfairly, and often quietly—but it is unmistakably present.

Football reminded us that tradition still matters, but only when it is carried forward by people willing to earn it again. Volleyball showed what happens when culture, joy, and discipline coexist—how “next ball” can become a philosophy, not just a mantra. Soccer exposed the volatility of success and the blind spots of attention, where programs like Gadsden and Santa Teresa reshaped expectations without asking permission to be noticed. And cross country, stripped of spectacle and certainty, asked the most human question of all: why keep running when no one promises you a prize?

Across these sports, the answers were consistent even when the outcomes were not. Athletes like Addison Massey, Ashley Galaz, Daxton Coombs, Jacob Sierra, Arabella Richardson, and so many others stood out not simply because of what they won, but because of how they competed. Around them were teammates whose names may never appear in headlines, yet whose presence made those moments possible—linemen, setters, defenders, role players, alternates, and runners chasing nothing more tangible than a better time than yesterday.

In the end, the Neighbors Cup standings tell one story. But the season itself tells another: that our broader community is not defined by proximity to larger markets, louder crowds, or shinier banners. It is defined by persistence. By athletes who show up early, stay late, and measure success in ways no algorithm can fully capture. This fall did not simply identify who finished first. It revealed who we are when the whistle blows, the clock keeps ticking, and the finish line comes into view—whether we cross it alone, together, or just behind someone who made us better by refusing to slow down.