256 SECONDS. My best times are now so old they
feel like
they belong to somebody else when I look at them. When
asked about 'em, I'm proud to respond but feel much
removed from times recorded as many as 30 years ago.
Desire to train and race has ebbed over time, hastened by
life changes, strange aches (gout), long-undiagnosed
stiffness (arthritis), assorted accidents and energy-sapping
incidents. My last fast and satisfying race was 15 years ago
and it's been 10 years since my last remotely-decent race.
In the past half-dozen years, cycling has largely replaced
running as exercise, but I digress. As I write this, it was 30 years ago today -- July 15, 1973 --
when I joined Eastern Michigan University teammate
Gordon Minty for a timed 3/4-mile at the University of
Michigan's Ferry Field. Gordon had learned in June that he'd
been selected to represent his native Wales in the '74
Commonwealth Games in New Zealand (where two future
mile world-record holders, Filbert Bayi and John Walker,
would clash). We met to run and do track workouts that
summer and he'd decided a 3/4-mile time trial was in his
plans. Who was I to question a future EMU Hall of Famer?
On the given eve, former teammate and current U-M men's
assistant track coach Fred LaPlante held the stopwatch.
The goal was even 64-second quarter-miles for a 3:12 final.
We swapped the lead through the half-mile,
right on pace. I tucked behind on lap three and midway
through decided I'd carry on another lap at the same pace. I
yelled for Fred to keep the watch going, split 3:12 at 3/4 and
carried on. I felt good. It crossed my mind to let it rip but
stayed controlled out of an unconscious respect for the
workout.
I finished in 4:16, a couple tenths slower than my PR at the
time and just More than three seconds slower than my
brother, Don, had run a couple months earlier as a
high-school junior.
But I didn't think of the time in comparison to anything. It
meant nothing yet was too fast to dismiss. The effort was
unexpected, stress-free and shared with just a few friends
in midsummer when most days blend together as one.
The time was a pleasant report card with a promise of
things to come. Thirty years later, the evening and
circumstances, which I've never reproduced, remain a fuzzy
yet clear, singular memory.
FIREWORKS. There's a sameness to Frankenmuth's
Volkslaufe each July 4 that I find comforting and appealing.
Jaycees annually stage this people-pleasing event at
expansive Heritage Park on the Cass River in this
chicken-dinner, German-themed community. Their
30-minute fireworks display on race eve is worth spending
the night in the area before joining more than 2,000 other
runners/walkers the next morn.
In recent years, Volkslaufe weather has been oppressive
and my hat's off to 20K runners whose route traces about
15K of flat, straight, unshaded rural roads. Overall, there's a
festive atmosphere with a little something to suit everybody.
It's a favorite race of mine and one of four that I've ARMed
(announced, raced and measured).
HE KEEPS GOING. In November 1971, the Cal
State-Fullerton cross-country team, including Mark Covert,
won the college-division national championship. That's the
only time my path has crossed Covert's. Since then he's
padded a running streak that reached 35 years July 27. To
celebrate the streak, a 3500-meter run was held at Antelope
Valley College in CA.
Mark's streak is the second longest on record, I believe, but
his daily average during the 35 years -- just over 10 miles a
day -- is second to nobody. My longest streak of 5-1/2 years
started about 18 years into Covert's and ended a dozen
years ago, while he keeps showing up every day. Recall, if
you can, what you were doing in July 1968 and imagine, if
possible, what it'd take to run each of the past 12,775 days.
My mind fogs on all the obstacles.
His is a quiet achievement and like a vintage wine, gets
better with age.
DO YOU QUALIFY? The Letsrun.com message board offers
these respsonses to "You might be a runner if ..."
1. Four minutes is a sacred duration of time to you.
2. National collegiate powerhouses are Colorado, Stanford,
Arkansas, Brigham Young and LSU; not Miami, Florida State
and Oklahoma.
3. You are up watching ESPN run coverage at 2 a.m.
4. You understand Canadian metric signs.
5. Your sport is other people's punishment.
6. You have distinct watch, shorts and t-shirt tan lines.
7. You can pronounce Kenyan names.
8. You don't know what an off-season means.
9. You know your neighborhood better than lifetime
residents.
10. You think a box of Pop-Tarts and quart of milk are a
complete meal.
11. You've got a pile of running magazines by the toilet.
12. You have bald spots on the inside of your calves.
13. Your pet's name has something to do with running.
14. You know how far a kilometer is.
15. Your ATM PIN number is a PR.
16. Your email address has something to do with running.
17. Someone's asked, "So, you run before running and run
after running?" referring to warm-ups and cool-downs.
18. You think 48 degrees is the perfect temp.
19. You've got spike-wound scars on your shin.
20. You've papered an entire wall with race numbers.
21. You get a kick out of passing cyclists.
22. You've heard of Coos Bay, Ore.
23. You read nutrition and ingredient labels on food, but
insist Waffle House provides the best post-run meal.
24. 20538 isn't just some random number to you.
25. Your dog gets excited when you put on your running
shoes.
26. On a plane trip, you pack your running gear in your
carry-on in case your luggage gets lost.
27. You feel smug when you hear cyclists and swimmers
say how hard your sport is.
28. Your smugness dissolves when you learn how
demanding cycling and swimming can be.
29. You recall all your splits from a half-marathon but can't
remember your social security number.
30. You've perfected the three-minute shower since you run
twice a day
.ANSWER: Moroccan Hicham El Guerrouj ran 3:49.92 in
2001 and Russian Svetlana Masterkova ran 4:20.39 in
1998. MR