This is the transcript of a presentation I gave several years ago. It was published here as a handy reference for a class of aspiring sports photographers. Much to my surprise, this page has been visited tens of thousands of times in recent years. I attribute this not to the quality of the writing — it is essentially just a transcript — nor to my limited skills as a photographer but simply to the lack of information on cross-country photography relative to the number of dedicated parents and team photographers who document this wonderful sport of ours.

The advice contained herein is aimed at those who have some experience taking cross-country pictures but are interested in evolving from button pusher to photographer; from someone who takes pictures to someone who makes pictures. It is most directly applicable to high school cross-country photography but can be adapted for all levels.

Please note that I’m just a cross-country-dad-with-a-camera with a few years of practical experience and a passion for the sport. I’m not a full-time photographer but I shoot for several major national and local media outlets. I hope you find this information useful to your cross-country program. (02/08/23)

Stepping onto the Course
I can’t say exactly when but somehow, at some point, I became old and slow.

This was not always the case. I was once young, relatively fast, and a member of the world’s oldest university cross-country team at Cambridge University, England. Memories of long training runs through the foggy English countryside and a fierce, friendly rivalry with Oxford still flow through my veins these many decades later. I suspect these experiences manifest themselves in ways I am not wholly aware of when I take cross-country pictures.

Past participation in cross country is certainly an advantage to anyone photographing the sport. But even if you have never run a mile with a soaker or battled through a side stitch, anyone who attends multiple meets, understands the sport and appreciates its beauty, has a head start, photographically speaking.

To the casual observer, cross-country may appear to be a simple, repetitive-motion sport, lacking in contact and hence, compelling photo opportunities. The casual observer is wrong. While the dimensions of a football pitch never change, nor the height of a basketball hoop, every cross-country course is unique. The terrain varies widely. Lighting is as unpredictable as the weather. You run when it’s ninety degrees and when risking frostbite. I have photographed all of the major American and English sports (and many minor ones) from peewee to pro. When shot with passion and focus, I find that crosscountry ranks among the more artistically rewarding opportunities for sports photographers.

For the sake of this article, we will assume you are fluent with your camera settings and the exposure triangle; in short, the absolute basics of taking pictures. If you do not yet have these skills, work on them. Build that foundation — put in the mileage just like the runners you cover. It’s not difficult, but there are no shortcuts. No matter how much you paid for that fancy camera, it’s nothing more than an expensive paperweight until you learn how to use it. The tips below may help, but without that solid technical base, much of the material below will be of limited, practical use.

With all that in mind, let’s hit the trail.

1) Walk the Course: Know the Course: Apart from just being a healthy activity, walking the course has the potential to transform your pictures. As legendary photographer Ansel Adams said, “A good photograph is knowing where to stand.” Course maps are great for general reference but they don’t include the helpful theme park designation; “Photo Spot Here.” It’s your job to find them. Follow the trails of the course to select your ideal backgrounds; the trees, the light, the vegetation, and the fewest possible eyesores. As you make the trek, you will find yourself saying, "Now, this would be a great place for pictures.” In some cases, I walk nearly as far as the athletes run in a standard race just to find ideal locations.

One of the key characteristics of an optimal location is, of course, light quality. After all, photography literally means “writing with light. Managing your photon input is essential to creating a good picture. While racing through a wooded course, runners will often be in and out of the sunlight. Always be on the lookout for unique lighting situations that can be incorporated into your pictures. The more you shoot, the more you will notice these opportunities. That said, if you are relatively new to photography, I suggest looking for locations in the more heavily shaded areas. In many cases, this means working deeper into the course. The flat, soft light in these areas is more flattering to the runners and easier to control as a photographer. Well-shaded areas are my personal default but if I come across interesting light, I try to capitalize. In the pictures above, two of the runners are set against a dark background. These were taken in the deepest, darkest part of the woods. But one stream of sunlight wrestled its way through the leaves and gave the backdrop an interesting green color pop. It’s not dramatic or awe-inspiring. But it’s there. The location was chosen specifically to take advantage of that light accent. The little gifts of light, color and texture are often present in the backgrounds if you look hard. Open them.

While the light through the trees giveth .. it also taketh away. Be aware of the areas where the light is pouring through the leaves at gale force. This can, in some cases, create unsightly spotty shadows on your runners — it’s what I like to call the Dalmation effect. Avoid this. Just move. Find a place where the light is more consistent.

Many newer cross-country photographers gravitate toward shooting the runners on the straightaways near the beginning or end of each race. These areas are typically rife with distracting background elements and visual clutter. In most cases, the best places will be in the woods or other areas far removed from the race coordination center. As you will see below, your job is to do everything possible to keep the viewer’s eye on the athletes — the heroes of your visual story.

Also - and this is essential — determine where you can position yourself to shoot the athletes at least twice during a race. While every course is different, there are often spots where you can capture runners heading out and heading back with little walking involved. The start and the finish lines at most meets are positioned in close proximity to reduce wear and tear on race officials. Keep that in mind. If you can find great backgrounds near the start and the end of the course, you too can reduce your mileage. Most regions have a few time-tested cross-country courses that are used by local high schools on a regular basis. If you are photographing your team over several years you will inevitably find yourself at some locations on multiple occasions. Finding the best photo positions gets a little easier each time. By the time your runner is a senior in high school, you will know the best spots on each course even before you pull into the parking lot.

In photography, we all make individual artistic choices. That’s what keeps it interesting. I prefer to let the pack spread out before taking my first series of pictures. At the high school level, this is around the three-quarter-mile mark in open meets; another quarter mile or so down the trail in more competitive races where runners are more evenly matched. Some excellent cross-country photographers prefer to capture the power and color of the race start. That’s a great option as well. Vary your approach by meet and the layout of the course.

2) A Comprehensive Background Check: Feel free to repeat these words out loud: The single most impactful thing I can do to improve my pictures is to choose the right background. If you remember one thing from this presentation, let it be this: choose your background first and let the runner enter your frame. Most people do the opposite. And again, in this case, most people are wrong. You do not take a picture. Your job is to make a picture. That’s a very different thing, indeed.

You need to train yourself to “work backward.” This simply means that the background is the first choice in your composition. This is a great habit for all photographers in all genres to adopt. It is one of the key markers that separates the advanced photographer from the beginner.

It may be a helpful mental exercise to think of yourself as a movie director who happens to use a still camera. You are responsible for choosing the set in which the actors — well, in this case, the runners — will perform and interact. It would be artistic malpractice for a movie director not to choose the set with tremendous care as it has such a profound bearing on the overall look and impact of the finished product. As a photographer, you are responsible for everything in your frame. No excuses.

Now, raise your right hand and repeat after me: I (fill in your name) will strive mightily to never take another cross-country picture that shows a car, a spectator in a folding chair, yellow course tape, a fence, a porta-potty, a bus, a tent, or a power line.” Just move! Or simply shift your camera angle. I have been doing this for years and I have yet to run across a photographer whose shoes have literally been nailed to the ground. But based on reviewing thousands of galleries, you would often think that is the case. Most bad cross-country photos are just lazy photos. Move!

You may be familiar with the American painter Edward Hopper. His most famous painting is Nighthawks (At the Diner). Nighthawks, like many of Hopper’s works, is set in the city. But look closely. You won’t see many (or any) power lines, phone booths, lamp posts, newspaper boxes, or other distracting evidence of modernity. Hopper draws your attention to the subject and the composition by minimizing these distractions. Aspire to that level of control in your work.

We can step out of the art museum now and back onto the course, but you get the point. This is where photography is about more than just pushing a button. It’s about having an idea of the impression and mood you want to create and capture and striving hard in the pursuit.

There are always runners jogging or walking the course before a race. Most are happy to pose. Take some test shots to check your background and exposure. I often evaluate a half dozen or so background options before a race. Sometimes it’s just the color of the leaves or the way the light is falling that elevates a background from good to great. You will quickly train your eye and begin picking out great backgrounds everywhere - even when you don’t have a camera in your hand.

To quote the great National Geographic photographer Sam Abell, “Compose and wait.” Find your background and kneel there. Look through your viewfinder. Check your angles. Find the ideal spot within the ideal spot. Let your subject move into that background. You know they are coming. Unlike many other sports, the athletes are on a very clear and predetermined route. Be patient. Let the picture come to you. 

Background. Patience. Subject. Snap. 

It’s that simple.

3) Think Season, Not Meet: “If you don’t know where you are going, you’ll end up someplace else.” You can’t expect to listen to a sports photography lecture without a Yogi Berra quote! As usual, he’s right. Don’t head out to the course with a camera in hand without a plan in mind.

If you take the same equipment and mental approach to each meet, you will end up with essentially the same pictures every time. That’s no fun. Like a runner, approach each race with a specific strategy based on the course, the weather, and the circumstances. One meet focus on close-ups. The next, shoot a little wider. If you were in the woods last meet, maybe it’s time to position yourself at the finish line. Look at each event as a fragment in a season-long photographic mosaic. In doing so you will end up with a varied and dynamic portfolio of pictures and noticeably refined skills.

The cross-country season is long. With that fact comes the temptation to overshoot — or at least “overshare.” Frankly — and remember this is coming from a proud Dad who likes to take pictures — you really only need a handful of good pictures of a runner each year. Show only your best work. A good goal for beginners is to share about 20 pictures per meet and build up to around 50 as your skills improve. Trust me. No one wants to see your 593 pictures from a midseason meet. Who has time for that? I confess that if I see a gallery of more than 50 cross-country pictures online, I generally don’t open it. It’s not thoughtful photography. It’s a “card dump.” Ultimately, people evaluate your skill based on what you publish. They don’t see what you throw out. Only show the work you are proud of and respect your audience’s time — and patience.

It’s also important to understand the ebbs and flows of the season from your audience's perspective. Don’t get caught up in the quest for “Likes” and the obligatory “Great Pics!” mentions online. This digital confetti is an imprecise and often misleading indicator of the quality of your work. If “Likes” make you happy, my advice is to pursue kitten photography. You’ll be a far happier person. Don’t get caught up in the social media popularity contest. I’ve posted some of my best work and heard crickets. And I’ve shared some truly ho-hum pictures that caught fire. Social media is fickle, unpredictable, and unreliable as an indicator of your skill as a photographer.

In my experience, viewer interest in pictures is “U” shaped over the season; high at the beginning when optimism is abundant and again at the end during the championship races. Set your expectations accordingly.

4) The Athlete as Hero: I can tell experienced sports photographers from beginners by the way they stand — or should I say, the way they don’t stand. You should rarely shoot standing up. Kneel — or at least crouch. Doing so radically changes your angle of view and the runner will appear larger and altogether more heroic in the frame. Try it. You’ll immediately notice a vast difference. Also by shooting up, you will eliminate a tremendous amount of background clutter. Cars, course tape, fences, and other distractions will magically disappear.

Don’t buy it? Look at the end zone of an NFL game. 99.9% of photographers are kneeling. The other 0.1% are heading to the bathroom. Professional sports photographers kneel not because they are nice people, deeply committed to improving the view of fans behind them. They just know what it takes to make a good picture. It’s best practice in the profession for a reason.

One of the key factors in a great running photo is to capture the point in the stride of every runner where they appear at their most athletic. This is typically the “lift” period where the arms are most prone to be high on the chest and the runner is at full extension. This is your “hero” pose and the moment we all strive to capture. It is also the moment that the runners themselves want to see.

Runners look far less athletic during the strike phase of their stride. Impact with the ground often contorts the facial features, flattens the hair, and the runner’s arms are typically at a low point in the swing. These factors all conspire to create a truly unflattering image. Runners hate these. Throw them out. Don’t even think twice. It is better not to publish any picture of a runner at all than to share one captured in this phase.

Distinguishing between these two phases is just visual common sense. You will, “know it when you see it,” as they say, when looking at a sequence of images. This is where having a high-frame-rate camera pays off. A professional-grade DSLR camera can take more than 8 frames per second. Some of the flagship mirrorless cameras are capable of 120-plus frames per second, which, frankly, is complete overkill for cross-country and an editing nightmare! A good consumer-grade model that will take six or more pictures per second is more than enough in most cases.

This may go without saying but it bears mentioning. Cross-country is a physically demanding sport. Race stress, pain, and heat exhaustion often show on the faces of the athletes. If you are covering a team consistently, you will have an opportunity to take many pictures of the runners during a season. Avoid showing images that may even unintentionally embarrass the athlete. Be sensitive. Always err on the side of caution. When in doubt, throw it out. Remember, these are kids.

Also, if you have a good rapport with the team's parents, let them know that you may not post a photo of their athlete after every meet. Set this expectation early. All runners have different styles. Some rarely look up. Some run with their mouths agape. Others push forward with their eyes practically closed. And some, well, they manage to do all three things simultaneously. And of course, there are always those who are blocked by other runners and prove to be elusive targets. Don’t sweat it. You’ll get it next time.

5) A Play in Three Acts: Sports is drama. So why not approach an event this way? In the 4th Century, writers developed the format of the three-act play. Approach a meet using their formula. The Set-Up (pre-race and start), The Confrontation (the race itself), and The Resolution (the finish, the cool down, and awards). Breaking it up this way will make it feel more manageable. Know that the Set-Up is the best time to take detail pictures and athlete portraits; they haven’t started to sweat yet and there are more smiles per capita. Know where you need to be and what you want to do (and of course, your background) for the race itself.

And finally what are your plans for the end of the race? When the athletes cross the finish line, Act Three begins. In French, it’s called the denouement. It’s the part of the drama where things get explained and the characters tie up loose ends. It’s athletes congratulating or consoling each other after a race. It’s the coach addressing the team. It’s the award ceremony. These situations may yield the best pictures you make all day. Don’t put your camera away until you are back in the car. You never know when or where great photo opportunities will occur.

6) Details, Details, Details: When it comes to viewing images, people have very short attention spans. I know this from experience. When I am not taking cross-country pictures, I run an art museum. Over the years I’ve developed an understanding of how people interact with visual objects and how to structure exhibitions that keep them engaged. I treat every photo gallery as a micro-exhibition. My goal is to make it as memorable as possible. I realize that most people will scroll through a cross-country gallery on their phones in 11 seconds while waiting in line at the grocery store. That’s ok. It doesn’t change my interest in presenting the pictures in an engaging way. One method for keeping viewers engaged is to build clear and powerful visual breaks into your gallery. Continually reset the viewer’s eye. Don’t show more than a handful of images in a row taken from the same perspective. It gets monotonous. Include various textures, colors, and detail in your gallery. Take pictures of the starting gun, a mile marker, a coach, incredibly muddy shoes … anything indicative of time and place … and weave it into the flow of your gallery. While you are doing this as a favor to your viewer, you are also expanding your skill set as a photographer.

Remember, a good photographer is foremost a good observer. This approach helps build that skill.

I spend a considerable amount of time in the woods by myself, swatting mosquitoes and waiting for the race to come my way. To stay occupied and productive, I document the flora and fauna present along the course. It’s a fun way to experiment with natural light, test my powers of observation, and document the passing of the seasons all the while creating images that can be used for the aforementioned visual breaks. One fall, I took a macro lens into the woods during a meet (why not?) and took extreme close-ups of orange mushrooms. They were my favorite pictures from the race. Nature is the gymnasium of cross country. Document it.

7) For the Hill of It: Depending on where you shoot, hills may or may not be a significant feature of your local courses. You may live in the shadows of the Rockies or the local highway overpass may be the closest thing to elevation your runners encounter. Regardless, hills are an important course feature in many races.

The great Japanese artist Hokusai did a classic series of prints called, “36 Views of Mt. Fuji.” The compositions are all radically different but all of them feature the sacred mountain. Sometimes it is a mere speck in the distance. At other times it is the dominant feature. That’s the way to look at hills. Take a different approach to hills at each race depending on the size, slope, the light, the background, etc... Just keep Hokusai in mind. He knew what he was doing and can provide an artistic path. Work with what you have and experiment.

The most common approach is for the photographer to be at the top of the large hill and to capture an image of the runner powering upward and eventually reaching the summit. But this isn’t Mt. Everest and there won’t be a flag-planting ceremony there. If you want to get a picture of the runner gasping for air, spent, and lacking in proper form, well, you are in exactly the right place. The struggle against gravity isn’t pretty. Chances are you will like the pictures more than the athlete who is cursing the laws of physics and may look worse for wear. Keep that in mind.

Photographically superior – in my opinion – are rolling hills. Runners love these and often attack them. In some cases, the good runners may even get slightly airborne on the descent. If your race is set on a golf course, there is a good chance that there will be a few rollers in the mix. Seek these out and watch how the athletes approach these when they are warming up before the race.

8) Settings & Gearish: As noted above, I assume that you know how to use your DSLR and have an understanding of the exposure triangle. My suggestion is that you shoot cross country in Shutter Priority (S)* and set your shutter speed to 1/1,000th. This speed will freeze the runner in action . Make sure your focus is set for “continuous,” (C), not single-shot (S). Go into your settings menu and turn on Auto-ISO. I find myself moving around the course a lot and I’m far more interested in making a good composition than adjusting my ISO every time a cloud bank obscures the sun for seven seconds. With today’s cameras if you are shooting outside, frankly ISO is a non-issue. I would not have said that ten or fifteen years ago but camera sensor technology has improved tremendously. Auto ISO is your friend.

Make sure your camera is also set to “burst” or “continuous” mode. Set this to the highest speed possible on your camera. This will produce a rapid, machine gun-like sound when you press the shutter button. This will help you make several frames of the runner as they enter your background.

Finally, set your focus to a “single-point.” In this setting, you the photographer — not the camera — determine which areas in the frame will be in focus.

I should emphasize that everyone has their own settings recipe. At a certain level of proficiency, it becomes an aspect of personal style and approach. There are plenty of great photographers who would cringe at my suggestion of shooting in Shutter priority. I think it’s a good place to start. It has worked for a lot of students that I have taught.

There’s no need for us to discuss the technical aspects of equipment here. And frankly, you could spend a lifetime watching YouTube videos that discuss photography gear at frighteningly obsessive levels of detail. You may find that interesting. I don’t.

Frankly, any camera with an interchangeable lens that is capable of shooting at six frames per second or higher will work for cross-country photography. Ideally, you should have a lens that has a focal reach of at least 200MM. If you’ve got that, you are good to go. You have the basics.

But, as is the case with most things in life from toothbrushes to computers, there is a good-better-best hierarchy. Camera gear is no different. No one reading this should run out and buy photography equipment in the “best” category. That’s something you grow into, and frankly, it’s very expensive. But I would strongly suggest that you consider using gear in the “better” category. Take it from an old man who has been at this for years; do not waste precious years of your life chopping wood with a dull axe thinking, “Someday, when I get better, I’ll get better gear.” Use the right gear for the job now. Do it while your athletes are young and you will get a far better return on your investment. You’ll make better pictures and you will enjoy photography more. I promise you won’t regret it.

When it comes to sports photography equipment, the lens is generally more important than the camera. Any name brand (Nikon, Canon, Sony, Fuji etc...) interchangeable lens camera made in the past decade is capable of rendering beautiful images in the right hands. It is the lens that is truly the differentiating, and in some cases, limiting factor. I will save you a lot of keystrokes and YouTube searches. You are going to hear the same thing over and over again from the sports photography pundits: get (buy, borrow, or rent) a 70-200MM f2.8 lens. This is a sensational and highly flexible lens that can be used to great effect for cross country and almost every other sport. It is the nucleus of any sports photography gear bag. It is a relatively expensive lens, ranging in price (new) from $1,500-$2,750 depending on the brand. But you have options. You can buy a used one at 50-75% of the original price. Or you can rent one for about $100 a week.

You may hear some photography gurus claim that “gear doesn’t matter.” I disagree, but with a qualifier. The difference in results between professional gear and entry-level gear depends largely on the genre of photography you shoot.

Let’s take wildlife, astrophotography, macro, or sports photography for example. These genres require very specialized gear for good reason. The kit zoom lens that came with your camera isn't going to give you the reach that a specialized telephoto lens can for wildlife and sports. Similarly, a 20mm f/1.4 lens with amazing light-gathering capability will deliver results in astrophotography that a kit lens simply can't match. And you need a pretty specialized set-up to shoot a close-up of a grasshopper’s eye, for example.

There are some genres where the gear needs are less specialized, for example, portrait photography or street photography. In these and several other genres, the difference between entry-level and professional setups tends to be less noticeable, all other things being equal.

In general, if you take a newer sports photographer and give them great gear or a great photographer and give them lesser gear, who will make the better pictures? I’ll place my bet on the great photographer every time. Professional-quality gear will help improve your keeper rate and produce sharper, cleaner frames. Like everything in life, you get what you pay for. But better gear will not help you compose, read the light, intuit, anticipate, problem-solve, and all of the intangible factors that put a tangible distance between good and great shooters. The magic happens when you put great tools in the hands of a great photographer.

Strive to improve your core photography skills. The rest will take care of itself. I promise.

9) A Little Fuzzy: This presentation was not designed to address specific techniques. But in my years of teaching, I get the same question every presentation, “How do I blur my backgrounds?” Let’s address it here. It is, after all, an important and valuable skill. I’m sure my description here will make the optical engineers among you roll your eyes but I’ll try to keep it simple. If you want to go deeper, Google is your friend. First, set your lens aperture to the lowest number. All other things being equal, the lower the number, the more blur it will create. Unfortunately, the lower the number, the higher the cost of the lens. Generally, with the exception of super-long telephoto primes, high-grade professional lenses are f2.8 and lower (f2.0, f1.8, f1.4). At these levels, you can get great “blur” — or Bokeh, which is the correct technical term. Most lenses owned by hobbyists are f4, f5.6, and f6.3. You can still get blur with these lenses, but you won’t get that truly soft “melted” effect. The higher the number, the less blur.

Next - and this is key - you need to get as close as you can to your subject with your background as far away as possible. This is something you can and should practice in your backyard. It won’t take you long to get a feel for it and it will forever change the way you make pictures.

10) Capturing the Thrill of Victory and Agony of Defeat: My library includes many books about sports photography. When viewed as a whole, one of the striking characteristics of these books is the ratio of action pictures to portraits and images featuring jubilation or dejection; the thrill of victory, and the agony of defeat. Great sports photos do not always feature a player breaking the tape at the finish line, hitting a ball out of the park, or a slam dunk. Just as often they are pictures that conjure emotion. They are a little sister with a handmade sign. An athlete with her head buried in a towel after a hard run. The beaming face of a runner who has medaled for the first time. Frankly, I'll take any of those over a razor-sharp, mid-course running photo anytime. And you can do that with any camera at any time, anywhere. Next time you are at a meet, occasionally turn away from the course and capture what is going on around you.

Again, a good photographer is a good observer.

11) Practice Constantly and Do The Work

There’s a saying that I’ve heard from almost every cross-country coach that I ran for that still resonates with me today. It starts with the question, “Do you want to know how to run faster?”

“Sure!”

“It’s easy. Run faster!”

The lesson here is that you need to train at faster speeds to run at faster speeds in a race. Uncoached cross-country runners often accumulate plodding “junk mileage” that allows them to run long distances rather slowly. If you want to run fast, train at faster speeds.

The only way to become a better photographer — to run faster, that is — is to take a lot of pictures and to constantly challenge yourself. Run faster, that is. Get away from the computer. Pick up that camera every day. Don’t keep it in a case. Put it on your table. Take it with you when you walk the dog. Make mistakes. Experiment. Fail. Learn. But whatever you do, bang that shutter. It doesn’t matter what you are shooting. There are always sports to cover, people who want their pictures taken, beautiful landscapes to capture. The options are endless.

It’s great that you have taken this course (or at least read the transcript). That demonstrates a commitment to growing your skill set. But I can say with 100% certainty that reading this will not make you a better photographer. You have to do the work constantly. The great art critic Jerry Saltz has a simple, pointed, and consistent response to people who want to make better art, and that includes photographs. “All you artists out there — get to work you Big Babies! Stop complaining and just get to work!”

But this work can also be a lot of fun.

To quote the late, great Kurt Vonnegut, “If this isn’t nice, I don’t know what is.” You get to be outdoors. You are with your loved ones and friends. Enjoy it. Cherish this time. It goes so fast. Too fast. And you get to create pictures that people will value for years and maybe even end up in a frame in someone’s living room for years to come. What’s not to like about that? Don’t take it too seriously. There is a learning curve. Strive to do one thing better each time out. Remember two important pieces of advice from the masters. Henri Cartier Bresson said, “Your first 10,000 pictures are your worst.” And Ansel Adams said, “Twelve significant photographs in any one year is a good crop.”

Take heed. Have fun with this!

POSTSCRIPT

I get a lot of questions coming in through the CONTACT link below. I’m always delighted to answer them. The most common inquiries I’ve received since posting this transcript center around the business side of things as well as editing and posting pictures.

Well, here’s what I know.

To Charge or Not to Charge … That is the (Most Common) Question: Cross-country photographs are fairly hard to sell. The reason is simple. Everyone who carries a phone carries a camera. People can generally get close enough to runners at some point in the race to take a reasonably good picture with a phone. It may not be Sports Illustrated quality and you may only be able to make out the general shape of the runner but frankly, that seems to be good enough for most people. Several years ago I was a member of a sports photography panel and one of the participants summarized the youth sports market as such: “In today’s world, if you offer a parent a great photo at a reasonable price or a below-average photo for free, free wins 95% of the time.” He was spot on. That is the experience of many who pursue the youth sports photography market. There are exceptions, of course. If the athlete in question is a wide receiver on the football team or the Libero on the volleyball team, the camera phone - or any point-and-shoot style camera - is woefully inadequate and the interest in purchasing photos improves somewhat. But cross-country pictures are - and will likely remain - a hard sell. A lack of sales is not necessarily a comment on your skills as a photographer. It’s a macro comment on the ubiquity of photography and how that fact has altered our perceptions of value.

So what does this mean in practical terms? On teams where my children are participating, I do not sell my photos. Some parents bring post-race snacks. Others set up our tent. Some drive my kids to practice when I can’t. I take the pictures. That’s my contribution to the team and I enjoy it. I choose not to complicate matters.

The most common refrain from new sports photographers who want to sell their work is, “I just want to make enough money to pay for my gear.” That’s great. Then set up a business and go for it. It’s a lot of work. Most people who do so on a part-time basis find they spend far more time on marketing and administration than they do taking pictures. The moment you decide to turn your hobby into a job you may find it becomes somewhat less fun and you will inevitably lose some of your artistic independence. As the iconic New York Times photographer Bill Cunningham once said, "You see, if you don't take their money, they can't tell you what to do, kid."

As a hobbyist, you can do what you want, when you want, and do it your way. No deadlines. Low stress. As a business person — even a small business person - you do what the client wants, how they want it, and when they want it.

I’ve heard photographers of all genres wrestle with this issue since I first picked up a camera decades ago. I have not heard anyone break it down as eloquently as the great photographer/philosopher Brooks Jensen of the Lenswork magazine and photography podcast. Take a few minutes to listen to some true words of wisdom on the subject.