Running for the laurels By Robert “the Lone Runner” Rayder This article was originally published in the Jan-Feb 2018 issue of the Roadrunner. window of opportunity to train for greatness slipped away, if it was ever there to start with. I’m still not sure exactly when my youth ended. At some mysterious point, people stopped calling me a “young man” and started calling me “sir.” My skin wrinkled, my hair thinned and whitened, my muscles atrophied. So when I did finally start running again, after a half lifetime of neglect, it was part of my midlife crisis. I trained as hard as I could, and my running skills grew. Over time, my efforts were noticed by runners who would tell me that I accomplished a lot “for a guy my age and size.” A part of me rebelled against such sentiments. I just wanted to be fast, without all the qualifiers. As my running skills grew, I managed to actually win a few age-group awards. In one very small race, I won the master’s division and placed ninth overall. I thought that such a lofty finish might be as good as it could ever be in my running career. I had no real hope of running for the laurels. Then, just when you least expect it, life throws you a curveball. I was still very much in a recovery phase of my training because of a persistent knee injury sustained over the summer (while bodysurfing, a sport I used to partake of all summer long without any difficulties. Talk about getting old ...). The goal behind my race frenzy (besides having fun) was to rebuild my speed and endurance because my knee was finally letting me put one foot in front of the other without agonizing pain. I had to get ready for the St. Jude Marathon, which was about a month away. As you probably know, the first half marathon in the MRTC road race series occurs on the first weekend in November. Series races always take place on Sunday mornings, so few sane runners are looking for a race to run the day before. I, of course, following the twisted logic of my crazy recovery plan, was doing just that, and I scoured the local race offerings to find a Saturday race.
It is impossible to win the race unless you venture to run. It is impossible to win the victory unless you dare to battle.
— Richard M De Vos
It was that same old dream again. You know the one. Nearly every runner dreams something like it at one time or another. There I am, standing at some unfamiliar start line. I strut confidently forward. People step aside and a pathway appears through the masses, inviting me to the very front. I toe the line with a quite confidence, and maybe a little bravado. Then the gun sounds. I immediately run out to the front. I sense the other runners behind me I’m their target, the guy to beat. I run effortlessly across the course. Most of my fellow runners fall back, unable to maintain the furious pace. One by one, they fall away. At long last I run alone. The finish approaches where a crowd has gathered. I cross the finish line, a running champion! Then I wake up. For my entire life, winning a real-world race has been the stuff of fantasy. Time to be totally truthful with myself. I’ve never had enough running talent, even when I was a young man, to actually win a competitive race. I’m not just talking about winning an age group, but to be the first runner overall, the race champion, that guy from the dream. I might have had a chance right before high school. I ran a lot then, and showed some promise. But I chose to be an offensive lineman and inside linebacker for my high school football team. Those were positions that valued strength and size over raw speed. After high school came college and professional school, where academics were the focus over physical training. Then came a job, a family and an impressive waistline. Simply put, life kept me so busy that my
A part of me rebelled against such sentiments.
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