Running the Wetmore Way: Three decades of CU Buffaloes pay tribute to the “greatest running coach in American history”

By Lyle Smith
This guest column was originally written on May 18, 2026 but published on LesRun.com on June 8, 2026. Are you interested in writing a guest column? Email us.

BOULDER, CO – An extraordinary gathering took place under the special events tent at the Rayback Collective on Valmont Road last night. It was less a celebration of sport or a changing of the guard, and more an expression of love and gratitude as University of Colorado (CU) Buffaloes runners from the past three decades assembled from near and far-flung places to celebrate the retirement of their coaches Mark Wetmore and Heather Burroughs.

Wetmore came to Boulder from New Jersey in 1993 where he began his Buffalo career as an assistant to Head Coach Jerry Quiller. Before that he was assistant to John Moon at Seton Hall University and before that coach at tiny, powerful Bernards High School and creator of the legendary Mine Mt. Road Department running club. After that, as his mentor and inspiration Arthur Lydiard privately predicted, he became the greatest running coach in American history. But also so much more.

Prior to Wetmore’s arrival at CU, no coach had completed cross country’s version of the grand slam — NCAA national team titles for men and women and the individual titles for men and women. Over Wetmore’s tenure, CU teams accomplished that feat twice over — five men’s team titles, three men’s individual titles, three women’s team titles, two women’s individual titles. In 2004, Wetmore became the first — and still only — person to coach men’s and women’s teams to NCAA XC titles at the same meet.

It’s not hyperbolic to credit this CU program with jumpstarting the current rebirth of American distance running. The program produced more US Olympic Team qualifiers in middle and long distance events than any other school in the NCAA from 2000-2024 — most of whom were in attendance last night. No other school produced even half as many. Plus the World Championships team members — including two world champions. And the World Cross Country team members. And the All-Americans.

Organized by a grassroots group of teammates, nearly 200 former athletes and friends came together to eat, drink, and acknowledge the impact these two remarkable people had on their lives. Wetmore and Burroughs retired from CU in June 2024, but based on the words and feelings of the people reconnecting under that tent, their imprint remains fundamentally deep in Boulder and all over the sport.

Beyond athletics, so many of this program’s athletes went on to great success of their own. They became lawyers, doctors, engineers, researchers, CEOs, entrepreneurs, communicators, parents, and coaches in the sport that, in large part, built each of them into who they are today.

As one of Wetmore’s athletes from his earliest days in New Jersey, I can tell you it was neither confusing nor surprising how little of the conversation last night was about winning championships or personal performances. So much more was about the time spent training together, traveling together, testing each other, and loving each other as a team, a tribe, a family. It likewise did not go unnoticed how many married couples emerged from the program — no fewer than 10 couples in attendance.

Many of his athletes took to the microphone to share tales of their time and the significance of their coaches to their lives beyond the sport. Wetmore’s high school friend, Dave Sulley, spoke of their young lives growing up and into the track team of their youth.

One Buff remembered running those races harder than he thought he could manage and Wetmore’s unique ability to see that they were all capable of so much more than they believed themselves to be.

“I heard Mark’s voice in my head,” he said. “‘You’re gonna be ok’… and I knew I would be.”

Wetmore on the start line of the 2013 NCAA cross country championships — where his Buffalo men won their fourth of five national titles

Burroughs recalled the Sunday long run as the cornerstone of the program. After a national championship, she said, they’d meet early the next Sunday, together, for the long run. Likewise, after a poor, disappointing performance, they’d meet early the next Sunday, together, for the long run. Always the long run. Always together. She said it was appropriate this gathering was called for a Sunday considering how much time they’d all spent together every Sunday for so long.

So many great accomplishments by these teams, never done before. Year after year.

Even now, I am still asked, and often, “What was the secret?” Because everyone is always looking for a secret. A shortcut. The magic. And I always say there isn’t one. Just show up and do the work. But standing under that tent on Sunday evening, you’d be forgiven if you believed there was something more to it.

Ours is a unique sport this way. I met most of those people there for the first time that night. I knew some of them personally, but most I only knew as a follower of the sport and a friend of the people being honored. I felt like I knew them through the coverage watched and read, the interviews listened to. But as I met each of them, there was clearly something more there. Deeper and unspoken. Something like a long-lost cousin. A kinship shared through the miles of road, trail, track, and dirt dug up under our spikes over the years.

Just as the evening weather took an unusual turn for Boulder’s high desert climate, Wetmore stepped to the microphone to say a few words. Wind blew the mercury lower than most of us were dressed for, and everyone took a step closer to listen over the sound of the driving rain.

In remarks that evoked impressionist Henri Matisse’s perspective that great things require no commentary, no description, Wetmore took the crowd on a journey from his youth in New Jersey through so many experiences and travels, and yes, championships. He painted a picture of the ancient, eccentric Chinese poet Hanshan living atop Cold Mountain, attempting in vain to help others understand why he lived so remotely. So alone. And linked it to the lonely goals of the long distance runner.

“Most people don’t understand us,” he said. “But that’s ok. We do.”

At that, attendees applauded, understanding in a way few others can. And therein lies the magic. The ability to get his athletes not just to come out to train hard every day, but to want to be there. To need to be there. And they all understood in a way others never will.

And that is the secret.

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Lyle Smith is a former New Jersey state champion from Bernardsville, a high school All-American, and the author of Blood, Sweat & Spikes: Running the Wetmore Way.

For more on Wetmore, check out our 2014 profile of him, from his origins in New Jersey to building the University of Colorado into a powerhouse: LRC The Wetmore Formula

Wetmore speaks at the gathering

Burroughs speaks at the gathering