Trivia: Who was the first Canadian to break four minutes in the mile?

ANNE FLYNN'S JOURNAL. You're in for a treat, because I asked Anne Flynn of Augusta to keep a journal of her U.S. Olympic Marathon Team Trials thoughts and experiences. Anne, a 40-year-old science teacher at Delton-Kellogg High School, struggled with aches and injuries during a sabbatical year of training, but had rounded into good shape by early 2004. I think you'll enjoy her insights.

Monday, March 29

Well, it's marathon trials week! After months of training and preparation, it's finally here.

I've had my ups and downs training for this marathon, and I'm in one of my downs right now. Last week I came down with a nasty chest cold, and it still hasn't left my system. After coming back from injury to be fully prepared for this race, the cold is a tough blow to deal with; I hope I am almost done with it, and the rest I have had this past week will do me good.

Yesterday, I got in a decent 12-mile run ... the first time I felt I could open my lungs this week. Today, I took it easy with a five-miler and I plan to only do short, easy runs for the rest of the week. I had a coughing fit during the first half-mile of today's run. I hope I am getting the last of this sickness out.

Tuesday, March 30

Being an Olympic Trials qualifier brings a little bit of celebrity. I've had articles written about me in the Kalamazoo Gazette and other newspapers, and have done interviews for Internet running sites and running-club newsletters. I felt I had really hit the big time, though, when Ed Kengerski, of Channel 3 Sports out of Kalamazoo, called to ask for an interview.

Ed came to my home this morning to talk and videotape me running. My voice sounded low from my stuffy nose; I hope I came off as halfway intelligent. Ed had my husband, Chris, drive our van while Ed sat in the back hatch to film me running. Our neighbors must think we're nuts.

Easy four miles early today, then 1.5 miles of starts and stops while getting filmed. Less coughing and fewer Kleenex-per-hour used. Wednesday, March 31

We leave for St. Louis tomorrow. I'm packing my things, as well as trying to make sure my family's things are ready. Running in the Trials doesn't stop you from being a wife and mom. Chris and our children, Hannah, 13, and Evan, 11, will travel down with me. The kids will visit my in-laws in Iowa after the marathon, so I'm doing a lot of laundry.

After qualifying for and running the Trials in 2000, I made it a goal to do so again, aiming at the 2002 Chicago Marathon as my qualifying race. My training, the weather and marathon gods came together at Chicago: I ran a 2:44:58 PR at age 39. I'm now one of 149 U.S. women who have qualified to toe the line at this year's Trials. I'd really love to have a strong race.

While I'm not a contender to make the Olympic team for Athens, one of my close friends is. Jenny Spangler, surprise winner of the 1996 Trials, was my teammate at the University of Iowa during the early 1980s.

Jenny has been called running's equivalent of a solar flare, shooting up for moments of extreme brightness, only to fade away for long periods before flaring up again. She holds the U.S. junior and master's marathon records, having run a 2:33:52 when she was 19 and a 2:32:59 last fall at Chicago when she was 40. Sandwiched in between was Jenny's '96 Trials-winning time of 2:29:54.

Jenny has dealt with difficult injuries and bad luck, but has stayed positive and determined throughout her 20-plus-year career. She has also been a great and supportive friend. She tells me a cold had her down a few weeks ago, but she must be feeling better given the 27:30 8K she ran at Chicago's Shamrock Shuffle last Sunday. Wow!

I'm looking forward to seeing Bev Docherty and her husband, Jim, also Iowa grads. Bev, 45, will be one of the big stories at St. Louis; she has a chance to become the only woman to qualify for, compete in and finish every U.S. Women's Olympic Marathon Trials since they started in '84.

I felt better on my run today, and the Kleenex-per-hour rate is down. I may be OK.

Thursday, April 1

Cold is totally gone ... April Fools! But I do feel almost healthy. We rose early today for the six-hour drive to St. Louis. I brought a crossword puzzle and the book "Seabiscuit" (kind of fitting) to keep my mind off the race, but kept picking up the Trials program I had downloaded from the Internet. Among its more-interesting facts and figures: a record 29 of this year's qualifiers are 40 and older. I will be in good company.

As we enter our downtown hotel, which is also race headquarters, I run into Christy Neilsen-Crotts, the other Iowa qualifier with me in 2000. (We moved to Michigan almost four years ago.) Soon, my in-laws arrive, then friends from the Battle Creek Road Runners, then more running friends from my Iowa City days. It's great to have so many people coming here to support me and to enjoy the race. I don't want to disappoint them.

I check in with race officials, who give me "goodies" including an ID and guest VIP passes, stuff from Avon and Runner's World magazine, and a race shirt. The latter, a black nylon pull-over, has "U.S. Women's Olympic Trials" in small stitching on the left corner. Larger lettering beneath it says "Michelob Ultra." I guess I know who the sponsor is.

I'm required to have my entire uniform and warm-ups checked by a USA Track and Field official. We did not have to do this in 2000. My outfit passes with no problems (It helps if you have no sponsors), but some athletes will have to put duct tape over logos deemed too large or if they written more than once. Even our socks were checked. I guess the USATF had been told by the U.S. Olympic Committee they had to crack down on blatant advertising. They don't want us to turn into NASCAR or something ...

The hospitality room has bagels, cereal, fruit and more food to snack on, refrigerators stocked with Gatorade and water, ouches to lounge on, and officials to answer any questions you may have. A race like this is so different from other marathons: We 100-some runners are treated specially, and everything is geared for a top performance by one and all.

I run into Michigan's Seana Larson and learn that she had a cold, like me. Sarah Plaxton, I later learn, has it bad as well. We start to call it "The Michigan Crud" that seems to have swept the state, west to east. I haven't heard if the Hanson's qualifiers were stricken - maybe it didn't get that far east yet.

There's a VIP reception tonight at the Missouri Athletic Club. While waiting for the shuttle, Jenny Spangler walks by, having just received a massage. She looks relaxed and says she is feeling good. I also run into Bev Docherty. While we catch up with old friends, it's hard not to get excited about seeing some of the big names of our sport. I ride the elevator with Deena Drossin Kastor!

Friday, April 3

I get up early and go for a short run. We are right downtown, so I head towards the Gateway Arch, enjoying the sun and spring blossoms on the trees. Another Trials runner, dressed in full warm-ups, asks, "Are you OK in shorts?" Is she kidding? Compared to running all winter in Michigan, this is great.

I sit with Jenny at the morning press conference. It is led by Larry Rawson, the voice heard commenting at just about every track meet on TV. Four athletes are called up to answer questions: Colleen De Reuck, Jill Gaitenby Boaz, Deeja Youngquist and Sara Wells. They - Jill and Colleen especially - offer much-needed comic relief to the hour of speeches.

I am surprised when the conference ends without Jenny being called up to answer questions. I know I'm biased, but she is seeded ahead of Jill and Sara, plus she has what may be the best story of the Trials. Jenny doesn't mind, and her husband, Miki, tells me that he's glad that she doesn't have to deal with the pressure and attention. I'm thinking that she'll use the "diss" as motivation.

At the afternoon technical meeting, we receive our bibs to be worn on the front and back of our uniforms. The numbers on them are huge. As I hold my 68 to my chest, I look at the other tiny athletes and wonder why there was such a fuss about logos. These numbers will cover everything.

After a quiet dinner with my family, I excuse myself early, go back to the room and start getting my race gear ready. We have to be on buses to the start line tomorrow morning by 5:15.

Saturday, April 4 - RACE DAY!

I get up at 4:30 and immediately eat my caffeine-laden Cliff Bar and banana. It doesn't take me long to get dressed, and I recheck my bag to make sure I have all my gear. My nose is a little runny, so I grab a few extra Kleenex. I get down to the lobby early, sit to relax and get a thrill when Kastor (the No. 1 seed and American record holder) sits down next to me. On the other side of her is Jen Rhines, and they obviously know each other. Both look relaxed and in control.

I sit with Seana during the bus ride to at Washington University, where the race will start with a mile on the school's track. As we pull up we see the lights are on, giving the oval a cool glow in the pre-dawn light.

We are ushered into the gym and sit on mats they've laid out. Jenny joins us, and I am struck at how other runners leave the "big names" alone. Jenny tells me that all day yesterday she kept running into Deena. "I guess that means I'm doing the right things," she laughs. Sarah Plaxton joins us, and I notice the Hanson's runners just to our right. It looks like the Michigan contingent (plus Jenny) is ready to go.

As I do a warm-up on the track, I hear Laura Murphy calling and I stop to give her a hug. We've known each other since high school in western New York, and it's great to see her. Laura has run in two Trials and I'd hoped she'd be one of our state's qualifiers again this year. I see Jenny's family; they wish me luck and ask me to tell Jenny where they are.

As start time nears, runners strip off warm-ups and put on game faces. I hug Jenny. We are told to self-seed at the starting line, and wonder how this mile on the track with 129 runners is going to work. Most spectators wait in Forest Park, where we'll run most of the race, but there is quite a crowd here to see us and the atmosphere is electric.

After the horn sounds, the field spreads smoothly into the inside three lanes and we settle into our paces. As we click off the laps the announcer counts them down, as if we were in a mile race. Once we leave the track, we'll have 25.2 miles to go.

I run my first four laps in 95 seconds each, right on 6:20 pace, and am able to keep an eye on the lead pack. I see Blake Russell separate herself from them right away. We leave the track and head towards the park. There's a slight downhill in this second mile, so I'm not surprised to see 6:11 on my watch. (I later hear Blake ran a 5:05 on that mile!)

I hear yells and look up to see a big "GO ANNE #68" sign. My Iowa City friends are screaming. I give them a big "thumbs up" and smile as I cruise by.

My third mile is still OK, another 6:20, but I can tell that I'm not breathing right. At this point in a marathon, 6:20s should feel easy. I just need to settle down, I tell myself, and let a few people pass me. I see my family, which perks me up, but I need more oxygen.

Around mile four or five, Bev pulls up at my side. I hang on with her a few miles, which helps a lot. The crowds are great, and the way the course loops allows us to see leaders at a few spots. I'm excited to see Jenny running in about sixth or seventh place.

My miles are getting slower and I am not feeling any better. You know it's a tough day when you are running alone at mile eight of a marathon, and people tell you, "Keep it going! Good form!" I decide I will run to the halfway mark, then call it a day.

It's frustrating: I feel fine, but I just can't breathe. I've learned you need all of your lung capacity to run a decent marathon. After passing the halfway mats, I pull off the course.

My family and friends find me quickly and are supportive. I can tell my children are disappointed, and I feel bad to have let them down. It's just one of those things life deals you.

A bright spot, I quickly realize, is now I can watch the finish; we get in position to see the rest of the race unfold.

After hearing about Blake's early one-minute lead, I am not surprised to see Deena has taken over first when the leaders make their way around the loop course again. With about 6.8 miles left, Deena has a large lead and is smiling. Jenny is still in good position, but trailing the top three by quite a bit now. It doesn't look like her return to the Olympics is going to happen.

As we make our way towards the finish, I run into friends who are concerned about me. It's great to feel so loved!

As the press truck rolls by to the finish line and we crane our heads to see Deena, we are shocked to see Colleen De Reuck powering down the road. She looks ecstatic and has no one in sight behind her. Deena follows a little while later, looking good but obviously with the marathon "bear" on her back. Everyone anxiously awaits the third and final Olympic team member ... it's Jen Rhines! As she sprints to the finish, the crowd goes wild.

Blake struggles home in fourth, and is cheered for her tough front- running. We count the next few runners and yell like crazy when we see Jenny coming in tenth place. In the finishers' area she seems tired, but OK.

I start to get choked up about not finishing, but the emotion passes quickly as I visit with Jenny's parents for the first time in quite a while. Her two-year-daughter is sleeping in a stroller, and my kids are excited to see her for the first time. Jenny and I ride back to the hotel on a VIP bus. She's disappointed, of course, but seems to be doing fine. She tells me about how Colleen, early in the race, helped the other runners in the lead pack, pointing out potholes and cracks in the road. I feel guilty as I see other runners gimp around in post-marathon shuffles, while I am feeling only a little sore after my 13-mile jaunt. I start getting used to telling my story, which I'll repeat many times, about what happened in the race.

After showering, my daughter and I sit with Jenny and her family at the awards banquet. Jen proudly goes up to collect her medal and $10,000 prize. Colleen, a native of South Africa, breaks down in tears when asked what it means to make the Olympic team for her adopted country. She seems like a classy lady, and it strikes me as incredible she will turn 40 ten days hence.

All in all, the weekend was very special. I'm proud to have qualified for my second Olympic Trials marathon and enjoyed being part of the spectacle.

A few days after returning home, my doctor told me I had developed an ear infection and put me on antibiotics. In a way, it made me feel better about pulling out of the race; there really was nothing I could have done differently to make things turn out better.

Life is full of experiences and some turn out differently than we'd hoped. On to other things!

Answer: On June 11, 1966, David Bailey ran a 3:59.1 mile. MR