I call this blog “The Road Alone,” but many of my reasons for loving running have nothing to do with me personally.
I’ve been thinking about this lately because my wife, mi esposa, La Senora Arizona, trains more for triathlons. She did her first sprint triathlon last fall, and she’s planning to do an indoor one later this month. I have noticed about triathlons something that I haven’t encountered among many who have joined the newer running “boom” of the last decade or so. It goes beyond their own enjoyment, their own effort or success, to a sense of those competitors who have gone before them and who will come after. In triathlons, for example, competitors are expected to adhere to the rules for things like the use of headphones or not drafting during the biking leg. They actually have marshalls who enforce the rules and warn or even disqualify athletes for breaking them.
This strikes me as a sharp contrast to the road racers I’ve competed in, where walkers line up near the front of the start line and chat amiably with each other four abreast while runners end up nearly colliding to avoid running into them. Or where folks pop in their headphones knowing they’re supposed to be prohibited. Or where costumes and spectacle reins, people trying to determine who can be the cleverest, the funniest, the most outlandish. And I’ve seen the message boards where all of this behavior is defended in the name of “more people participating in the sport” or “popularity” or “the money it brings in.”
Triathletes seem unconcerned about such issues. They seem to have, even the slowest of them, a respect for the sport that matters more than how entertaining each participant can make his or her own race. They don’t talk about how “boring” the sport is, or how they could never compete without something (cheerleaders? rock bands?) to keep them distracted.
This contrast came to mind today when I read an article about the first Master’s race of one of the greats of middle distance running, Eamonn Coghlan. I wonder how many of today’s bucket-list marathoners know his name and what he meant to distance running once upon a not-so-long-ago time. I wonder how many scramble at odd hours of the morning or night to catch streaming video or online broadcasts of the distance races at the Olympics or World Championships or major marathons. I wonder how many recognize that they run in the footsteps of those who trained in cotton sweats and raced in plain cotton or polyester singlets and shorts.
You see, I don’t just love the act of running; I love the people who love it, who have sacrificed for it, who raced when there was little or no money, no admiration, nothing but the desire to test themselves and share their love with whoever had the same desire. I love those who are passionate about running, whether or not that means winning, whether there are 20,000 people running with them or 20.
Because of those people, while I may run by myself, never really run alone.