WISHFUL THINKING

            Not too long ago, I was at an event attended by a world-class runner. He won the 5K in 14-something and afterward autographed posters for a long line of appreciative fans. It was amazing; I had one of my best races in the past few years, and this fellow lopped 2 minutes per mile off my time! It's hard to believe someone could run that fast, and so easily. Now this may seem like sour grapes, but I wouldn't even want to run that fast. Just think about that for a while. If you were that talented, your whole life would be changed and totally oriented toward running. Fine, you say? I'm not certain.

            Running is a very important part of my life, but it's only a part and that's the way I like it. Running to me is relaxation and recreation and the competition with fellow runners is wonderful. The local 10K or Track Club event is all I need to have a great time. And let's face it, even if the clock could somehow be turned back and I had a new start with the finest facilities and the best coaching, I still wouldn't be able to run that fast. World-class runners are born, not made.

            Besides, the level of competition in San Diego is quite high and enjoyable. I recall one 10K when I was putting in a near-personal-best performance on a tough hilly course and I began to think of the possibility of placing. Sure enough, I got an honorable mention fourth place. The winner of my division had averaged a pace of a minute per mile better than mine. Can you imagine that? A minute per mile!

            Would I like to do that? Well, yes. Sure. It would be great fun! But I'd have to take off another 10 pounds. Plus, my training effort would have to go up considerably, including a lot of speed work. Such a training level usually induces a lot of nagging minor injuries, so I'd have to be very careful. But even if I did all those things, I still can only visualize lopping about 30 seconds per mile off my pace. At that point running would cease being fun and start being a second job, and I'd still have another 30 seconds per mile to go. Well, maybe running that fast isn't such a great idea after all. The people I compete against are fine. Why should I worry about someone way up ahead in the race?

            Runners have always impressed me as being an amazing group of people. And of all the runners, older runners seem the most amazing. Not too long ago, I was watching a TV commercial extolling the virtues of an active retirement. In the background, and evidently illustrating the concept, was a group of white-haired elders wearing baggy clothes and playing shuffleboard with about a dozen others sitting around watching. Sad to say, that's most people's concept of the over-60 life and, even sadder, it probably fits most of the over-60 population. But not over-60 runners. No way!

            I began running in my mid-40s. As I worked harder and harder and became faster and faster, I began to become aware of guys in their 60s and even 70s who were leaving me well behind in every race I entered. It was amazing! And they looked so youthful with their slender, athletic builds. I could scarcely believe their stated ages. My whole concept of aging began to change.

            Two mid-60s runners were targeted. My goal became to finish ahead of them. Well, I failed in race after race after race, but I gradually became a better and better runner in the process. Finally, after over two years of trying, I finished ahead of one of them. I was ecstatic! A glowing runner's high lasted almost a week. I tried explaining my accomplishment to a non-running friend. It was no use. He thought I'd gone crazy. He also thought that if I had trouble finishing in front of 60-year-olds, I couldn't be much of a runner. Ha! I'd love to see him try it.

            In any case, and going back to the beginning of this article, I was standing there watching the world-class runner signing posters for his many fans as the race awards ceremony was in progress. A round of applause sounded as a fit 87-year-old runner went up for his trophy. Now that's something I'd really like to do!

February 1993

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