Doing What's Needed

Last night, I fell asleep reading a running blog. It was Duncan Larkin's Roads, Mills, Laps. Larkin's blog isn't the usual "musings of another wannabe taking on the challenge of 26.2 miles", instead, it's the commentary of a cynical bona-fide sub-elite marathoner. It's filled with historical references and is rarely an easy read. Because the goals are high, so is the honesty level, so, amongst the rants, there are a great many gems. Yesterday was no exception.

In his post, Larkin said, "Thanks to the old vet with the ship baseball hat who walked me to the elite tent and got a tee shirt for me because my bag was missing. People like this--people that help you and then disappear unthanked--are the real heroes of these races and in life." He's right. One of my fraternity brothers came from western Pennsylvania, and he'd use a local expression, "it needs done." This guy got Larkin the shirt because "it needed done." To him, getting Larkin the shirt was the most obvious and minor thing, so he did it.

Sometimes, the things that need to be done are formal, like when you pass out water at a race and sometimes they're less formal, like when you see someone struggling with the inner demons at mile 22 of the marathon and you say something to get their attention, make eye contact, then say, "You can do it." If you've never been there, you'll never know how much it can mean. If you've ever been the recipient, you'll struggle regularly to pay it back.

Now, I'd like to posit a question, "What needs doing at your local race?" Are you doing it? Shouldn't you be?

Thin Callouses

Yesterday, as I ran a race, I backed down from the pain. The weather had suddenly turned hot and I probably hadn't taken that enough into account. A quick start and a few days of questionable training made me mentally weak. I walked a bit in mile two, then at several water stops. I ran the rest of the remainder of the race pretty comfortably. I was feeling like I hadn't prepped well. I'd neglected to eat my usual pre-race banana and neihter had I had the tea with honey that I usually drink to load my body with sugars for energy. Additionally, I may have been hit with a low-grade digestive problem, having needed to visit the toilet 5 times for in the 14 hours prior to the race.

I felt a bit off and seeing a family who had spread a picnic on their front yard, asked if I might have some orange juice. They immediately said, "Yes." I'd picked up the juice container and one of them handed me a cup. I poured a half cup and downed it in an instant. It seemed to help, though by that time, it was going to help in my second race more than my first. I made it a point to get a half bagel and banana to help replenish my stores of sugars.

The upshot of all this was that I ran a 51:10 10K followed by a 24:11 5K. Neither a time I can brag about. In running my post-mortem on this race, I realized that my problem lay either with poor preparation (not having my usual pre-race sugars and/or neglecting the effects of heat on pacing) or with not having done enough racing and thus my ability to withstand the discomfort of racing was diminished. Most likely it was a combination of both. The title of this post refer to the latter, something I've heard referred to as race callousing, the ability to better tolerate pain because you've experienced it recently (and perhaps severely) and thus, built up a psychological callous which allows you to better tolerate it.

In Memory Of...

On March 5th, 1770, Crispus Attucks died. He is normally identified as the first to die for the cause of American (well, technically U.S. of A.) freedom. Since that time, others have been dying with some regularity for the same cause. Monday is Memorial Day. Most of us use the holiday to shop or get together with friends. How many of us take any time to remember why we have this holiday. Do you attend a Memorial Day parade? Do you say "thank you" to a veteran? Do you put up the flag on your house?

Freedom isn't free. There is a strong likelihood that the casualty lists in Iraq will be added to on Memorial Day this year. I pray that the day may soon come when our service people are not at risk every day and that our government uses good judgement before putting them at risk again.

Let me say "thank you" to all veterans and more to the point of this Memorial Day say that I recognize the sacrifice that so many made whether facing the British in the early days of this nation, the Mexicans during the period of our national expansion, the Spanish a century ago, the Germans twice in the last century and their Japanese allies in the second of those conflicts, the Koreans and Chinese a half-century ago, the Vietnamese about a third of a century ago, the conflicts in the middle east of the last 15 years, and the myriad of small engagements that we've been involved in as a nation since our national birth. Your sacrifice is remembered.

Some Old Pictures

These pictures are from the collection of Dan Dillon, a former professional racer. He loaned them to me related to a project I am working on. The first step is to get some help in identifying who is in the pictures and when and where they were taken.

Here's what I know so far:
Photos were taken at a golf course in the Atlanta area. The event was what would, I guess, be called the trials for the U.S. cross-country team. This was apparently the second year that the races. This was apparently the second year that the trials were held at this venue.

Can you help place the year and date?
Can you help identify any of the racers?

Here are the pictures:

This is the picture from among this group that I like the best. It shows mostly the Greater Boston Track Club team. If I am correct, the little guy on the far left with his hand on his bib is Bob Hodge. Behind him is a guy in a Colorado? singlet. The tall bearded guy in the NYAC? winged foot singlet, wearing bib #23, is Tom Fleming. Then, we have bib 16, and a guy wearing green behind him. Next, is bib #25, looking to our left and wearing glasses. We then have a runner whose head is all we can see. Beside him, wearing bib #1 is Dan Dillon (he'd won the previous year). Next is a Greater Boston guy in profile. Finally, we have a guy in a red singlet, wearing bib #54.


I am guessing that this shot was taken near the finish. In it, Dillon trails a NYAC runner (bib #14). Bib #21, who appears in the fourth picture is on the far left of the shot.


This is the start (Yes, a very insightful statement!) I'm assuming that most runners can't be easily identified, though it may be possible with some in the foreground.


I am guessing this shot was taken near the middle of the race. I'd like to try to find out who #21 in the middle is.

Please post comments if you can help answer these questions. Thanks!

Passing The Baton

I recently read a post by The Thinking Runner about the retirement of Hicham El-Guerrouj. He was a great runner, perhaps the greatest, but he wasn't mine.

I came up in the waning days of Jim Ryun, when Marty Liquori was the American miler, and Steve Ovett and Sebastian Coe were the other guys who mattered. I recently found out that Liquori may have been a better distance runner than miler, but stayed mostly with the mile because it was the glamour event. These were my milers (and the mile was still competed regularly in my day, the transition to metric not having filtered down to the high school level in most places).

I don't know if it's a function of my age, or that I never felt much tie to El G, having rarely seen him race, but while I respect his racing, he just didn't excite me. Part of me thinks that it was a function of a perceived mercenary quality to his racing. Yet another part may have been that when young, I would regularly watch Ryun, Liquori, Ovett and Coe on weekend afternoons. That contact personalized the characters. El G never became a real person to me.

But, in the long end of middle distance, the baton is being passed. El G has surrendered the crown. If we're lucky, there will be a battle for the crown before the coronation of a new king. After all, isn't that struggle to best the racers around you what our sport is about?

The Lovely, Young Sportswomen

Not so fast!

In his latest commentary for NPR, Frank DeFord discusses the impact of Title IX. I was ready to hear the oft-repeated argument that this legislation takes opportunity away from male, minor sport athletes in favor of women athletes with little commitment to sport. Instead, he talks about a whole other issue, one that affects sport in general, and to a lesser degree society, the apparent sense by many athletes that they can behave any way they wish, without consequences. DeFord's point is that these days, some of the women athletes often behave as poorly as the worst of the men. I think colleges should require acceptable behavior, and should require it. Like the uproar several years ago related to academics, the NCAA should require that athletes who represent their schools behave in a manner that won't embarass the school. They should require that scholarships be yanked from athletes who misbehave (I am less sure if a "zero-tolerance" policy or a "two-or-three-strike" format is more appropriate, though I'm inclined to say that there are some behaviors that should be immediate scholarship death penalties.)

It's a report that I think is worth a listen. You can find it here.

Depth of Knowledge

Recently, I've been giving some thought to the issue of how knowledge about running moves. In many cases, we turn to books, but the thing they lack is interactivity. To me, it seems that being around other runners, especially at non-running times, makes a big difference.

For those of you who are fans of the sport of running and have read Chris Lear's excellent book, Running With The Buffaloes, you doubtless remember Chris "Sev" Severy. You were likely unaware that he was the first in a string of excellent young runners to come from his family. Here's an article on the next-to-last of this generation, his sister, Christy.

I know that many of you will look and say, there's something genetic in that family, and there's probably some truth there, but I also expect that Chris managed to pass along an awful lot of information in both direct and subtle ways to his siblings. Things like how to train, how to deal with injuries, and lots of weird little things, like how racing hard hurts, and that while it's uncomfortable, it doesn't really hurt you.

I believe that spending non-running time (and especially living with other runners) has a meaningful impact on your likelihood of success in running. One of the unfortunate things in sport today is that we seem more and more to prize the spectacular sports, rather than the mundane. I understand what it feels like when a runner rigs* and just can't move well anymore. You can see runners at almost any track meet start too fast and then tie up. The lead they may have built is suddenly disappearing with every stride, while they try, with varying degrees of success, to keep their body moving in the manner they desire. To me, watching them struggle as the competition works to overtake them is one of the greatest pieces of drama you can see anywhere.

*Rig is the current term for what used to be called tying up. It apparently comes from the term "rigor mortis", the stiffening of muscles after death. It's also referred to as "carrying the piano" or "the gorilla (or other beast) jumped on his back."

Sport or Babysitting?

In coaching kids, some seem to be highly motivated, while others are very nonchalant, still others are disruptive. It is a difficult situation at times, especially with the disruptive ones. They break down the order necessary for successful coaching. The problem is compounded by parents who seem to often think that our program is essentially a babysitting program. They drop off their kids and disappear.

What's worse is that they will often balk at spending the day with their child at a track meet. I understand that many have busy lives and that track meets, with their soft scheduling and plethora of events, can be the bane of tight schedules. While you can't mow the lawn or do the laundry while at a meet, you can read the newspaper, read a book, visit with other parents at the meet, pay your bills, cell phones mean you can catch up with friends, or if you don't mind hanging around just toweled off, you can get in your own road work. It's not like it has to be unproductive time.

Track is a sport, it should be treated as such. Competition should not be avoided, it should be welcomed. After all, it is only by competing that we take the measure of ourselves. We need to compete in life. Why not start now by teaching the kids the lesson of struggling to do your best? Yes, it's often a struggle, and if you are not gifted, competing can sometime be a bit demoralizing, but one lesson that track teaches, regardless of dscipline, is that work pays off, and the harder you work (with reason applied), the faster you improve. In most things in life, this holds true. Shouldn't children be learning this lesson while young?

Exceptional?

My son recently underwent testing for the gifted program in his school. He had done well in the preliminary testing and this test would determine if he would be selected for the program. Having been a nerd in school, I have somewhat mixed feelings on this, but I am not going to deny him an opportunity over that. I didn't think much of the fact that he'd been selected for the additional testing until it came out that he was the only child in his class to receive this additional test. It was then that I realized that this was a legitimate screening, and not some kind of a "feel good" program. (Frankly, I was quite surprised that 2,3, or 4 students didn't undergo the additional testing.)

I guess there's some pride that he got this far. Regardless of whether he's selected for the program, it pleases me to know that he is being recognized for being bright and that our regular checking and assistance with his homework (and frequent insistence that he do the extra credit problems) is paying off.

I'm not a big fan of Garrison Keiler, but I remember laughing when I heard one of his lead-ins/outs to a Lake Wobegone radio show. It seems appropriate here:

"...Lake Wobegone, where ALL our children are exceptional."

Crushed 'Em

On Wednesday evening, at practice, I found myself running the second leg of a 4x100 relay. A body was needed, so I filled the spot. I was running the second leg. I found myself in the unfortunate position of receiving the baton last. Oh, and since I was dressed in casual business attire, I'd pulled off my shoes and socks and was doing my 100 with bare feet on the Mondo and wearing long pants.

On getting the baton, off I go. I change the stick from left hand to right. I pay attention to driving hard with the legs and lifting the knees. As the distance passed under my feet, I moved from last, to fourth, then third, second and first. My baton was the first one passed. I simply crushed my competition. I know it sounds unrealistic and some of you are expecting the wavy image and then seeing me wake up from a dream. I assure you it's true, it really happened.

Of course, those of you who know me know that I coach kids. My competition was just shy of four decades younger than I am. They were second and third graders. When I run with the kids, I try to do the same things we ask of them. So, if we say, "run hard," then I run hard. I figure it's setting an example. The reason I found myself running this was that one child had needed to go to the bathroom. When the runners are dashing around the track and nobody's in one of the lanes, something needs to be done. That's how I found myself in this situation. Afterwards, I had mixed feelings, should I have gone so hard? I'm not sure, though I suspect that my teammates, some of whom were noticably smaller than many of their competitors, had no doubt.

I should also point out that this came with a price. My plantar fasciitis in my right foot came up a bit after this. It seems to be improving rapidly, but as with most things, this had a price.

He's Gay!

I do some racewalking, and often racewalkers are the butt (pun intended) of many jokes (and also of many misunderstandings). I don't think there's a racewalker alive who won't acknowledge that participants often look rather amusing. The butt wiggle that most better walkers display is often a difficult and hard-won skill, especially for men.

Without overdoing the analysis, swiveling the hips and dropping the lead hip as you plant your foot buys you a small bit of extra distance with each stride. Since the two rules (and there are only two) of racewalking prevent you from being airborne (at least significantly) - the rules require that one foot always be in contact with the ground (to the naked eye) and that the lead knee be straight from plant until it passes under the body (that's the rule that causes me trouble).

From a historic perspective, racewalking actually predates running, but until the 19th century, rules differentiating running and walking didn't exist. There was a period in the late 19th century when walking was one of the biggest sports in the USA. (A good brief history of pedestrianism can be found here.) Racewalking has been an Olympic sport since 1906 (there was a mid-term Olympiad that year, but was never followed up), yet it continues to be the Rodney Dangerfield of sports, garnering no respect (see this article).

I've used racewalking both as a sport and as a mode of low-impact training for running (the additional foot movement seems to help resolve plantar fasciitis and the reduced impact diminishes insult to the foot).

I recently overheard someone describing me as gay during a walk. I can assure you, I'm not, but it is indicative of the disdain this sport is held in by many people. Oh, and if our wiggles make you smile, go ahead! If you want to argue whether this sport should be in the Olympics, you're entitled. If you really want to make a case for it, then cover 50 km (a bit over 31 miles) under your own power (without mechanical aids) faster than Curt Clausen, the American record holder, who walked that distance in 3 hours, 48 minutes and four seconds or better still, post a time better than Robert Korzeniowski, who holds the world record of 3:36:03. (Clausen's pace converts to 7:21 miles, while Korzeniowski's converts to 6:58's.) I don't know about you, but I can't run 50 km that fast.

How Far Is That Marathon?

Recently, I was talking to the mother of one of my son's friends. She told me that she and her husband ran marathons too. I asked which ones, she proceeded to list some local 5K's. As graciously as I could, I told her that a marathon connotes a race of 26.2 miles (42.2 km), and that no other distance is a marathon. I then explained that the only other race that regularly uses the "marathon" term is a half-marathon, which is exactly half the distance. Occasionally, other modifiers are used, but they have no specific meaning. The old L'eggs Mini-Marathon in New York comes to mind, but the race became referred to as "the Mini", in part because the use of the word marathon was inappropriate.

Having grown up running, I always find it remarkable how little many people know about the sport, even though it's probably competed in their town, often by some of their neighbors, yet they don't even know the most basic information about it.

I don't know horse racing, though I've gone to horse tracks perhaps a half-dozen times in my life. I know that horse races are measured in furlongs, and if memory serves, that a furlong is an eighth of a mile. I know that there are at least two formats of horse races; thoroughbred racing, where the jockey rides on the horse's back and harness racing, where the jockey rides behind the horse in a cart called a sulky.

I don't understand how people don't know this stuff. Before you feel self-righteous for knowing, please answer the following questions:
Who is our Secretary of State?
Who is the Speaker of the House of Representatives?
Who are your two Senators?
Who is your local Congressman?
If you don't know the answers, please check the following resources:
For Sec'y of State, for speaker and congressman, for senators. (In the interest of full disclosure, I couldn't come up with one of my senator's names. New Jersey is in the unusual position of having had a senator appointed recently. Since I was honest enough to tell you how I did, will you please return the favor by posting a comment telling me how you did?)

For more on a related topic, check out Vince Hemingson's recent "Do You Run?" post. As a Canadian, Vince is entitled to a different quiz.

Honey, We're Killing The Kids!

Tonight, I made it a point to watch this new show, Honey, We're Killing The Kids!, on TLC. I'd seen promos for it for a couple of months. The show is excellent, if perhaps a bit unrealistic for many people. My objection to it really stems more from how they choose to format the makeover, rather than anything seriously wrong with the basis.

In the show I saw tonight, the Darnell family was being made over. Their children, a girl and a boy, ages 11 and 9 respectively, were overweight, spoiled, and fairly out of control. Dr. Lisa Hark, the "star" of the show, began by delivering an age progression of the kids to age 40. (I put star in parentheses because while she delivers the lessons, the emphasis is clearly on the family.) The parents were very clearly disturbed by this.

I have to give great credit to the parents in this episode, they made changes that were perhaps greater than the kids. The mother stopped smoking, the dad decided to begin making a career change. They also put up with a fair amount of pain delivered by the kids, but did not buckle under that pressure. The kids got into line and seemed to be pretty happy with where their bodies were going.

The show ended with a revised age progression with the kids winding up as normal weight adults. My objection to the show stems from the fact that the change took place in a three week period. That kind of time frame is too short for changes to become habit, so I'm not very confident that the subjects will continue to live the healthy lifestyle they adopted. The lessons were clear, simple and understandable. I'd give the show a B+.

Bad Behavior

One evening last week, I was crossing the road by our town's track. An SUV turned out of a nearby parking lot and zips past me and my son. Without thinking, I kicked the vehicle. Its driver quickly hit the brakes. His window went down. Out the window came a shout, "What was that about?" "You stop for pedestrians in a crosswalk," I responded. "What are you, retarded?," came his reply. "Maybe so," I responded as I continued across the road. This all happened in front of a fairly significant crowd. It appeared that he pulled over and checked for damage, then left.

In retrospect, since I was with my son, had the driver done anything rash, I'd likely put both of us in danger. It was probably not the best choice of actions on my part, but my years of running have taught me to vigorously defend my space, and my action was done nearly automatically.

Grinding It Out

At one point today, I looked out my window to see my neighbor doing his training. His training is short, but it's awfully hard. He was out there with his wife and their dog. The story is a bit more complex than I'm letting on.

My neighbor has emphysema. He also had a bout with cancer last year, and the juggling of treatments caused a heart attack. The result was a leg that barely worked and deconditioning so severe that walking down a short flight of stairs would exhaust him several months ago.

He wears a pulse oximeter to tell him if his disabled lungs are getting enough oxygen to his body. He was pushing his walker a short distance and resting, then repeating. It was interval work, but at a pace that most of us would think ludicrous. He was trained as an engineer and has always regarded himself as an experimental subject. He just asks the question of how he can train his body to do more. Thus far, he's astounded his doctors with regularity. They'd expected him to be dead from the emphysema about a decade ago. He keeps grinding it out, pushing himself to his limits (and these days, that means just a couple of hundred yards walking) to raise those limits in the future.

Compared to most of us, the distances are much shorter, the speed much slower, but this man trains hard. I respect that.

A Cause For Concern?

Some people think the presidential election of 2004 was stolen. One of the reasons they make this claim is that some of the new electronic voting machines do not produce an audit trail (or at least not a "hard" one). I'm not qualified to comment on this, but I found this commentary about Diebold voting machines disturbing. If what it says is true, we, as a nation, have a serious cause for concern. Our right as citizens to elect our leaders may be in jeopardy.

I started reading the Boing Boing blog recently, and really enjoy it. It's a peculiar amalgam of technology, social issues, and stuff to make you smile. The "front page" of Boing Boing is here.

Negating A Workout

The marketing of products like Gatorade and PowerBars works a bit too well. While I mention those two brands, I identify them them simply because they are the market leaders. There are many other brands of energy bars and beverages. Yesterday, one of the trainers at my gym commented as I was drinking liberally from a water cooler that he wished it was full of Gatorade. I remarked that for most people at the gym, it would be inappropriate.

A conversation ensued, with both of us agreeing that for many people, these energy products are inappropriate and misused. Products of this type were developed to be high-energy, low-bulk products aimed at endurance athletes participating in long duration events. (There are now some recovery products, which are a different class of product, but similarly open to incorrect use.)

Simply put, if your goal is weight management (or weight loss) and you are not exercising for an hour or more, you are at no risk of burning you body's stored supply of sugars. Thus, replacing sugars simply replaces the calories just burned by exercise. What's worse, it does so with empty calories (calories that are largely devoid of nutrition).

So, use these products as they were intended, eat and drink wisely after exercise, and you won't negate the effects of your exercise.

Mental Weakness

Last night, I had the pleasure of seeing my Boston Red Sox trounce their archrival, the New York Yankees, by the score of 14-3. While it was nice to see that happen, a lot of it seemed to come from Randy Johnson having lost confidence in his pitching, particularly in his fastball. I have great respect for most of the Yankees as players, though some, like Johnny Damon, are seen by me as traitors. (Of course, there's a long history of Boston players chasing New York money, so his behavior is not without precedent.)

So, I guess what I'm saying is, "couldn't happen to a better team, I'm just sorry that Johnson had to be the victim." I hope he gets his head together. I'd hate to see his career come to an end because he'd lost confidence, though his physical skills are still mostly intact.

I should also note that mental weakness is something I've had some recent experience with, and watching Johnson suffer with it wasn't pleasant.

My Feminine Side?

I don't know why, but in recent days, I've been finding some of the blogs related to running posted by women to be among the most comforting that I read. It seems to be the ones that come from non-competitive women more than the serious racers. Two that I like are Running = Sanity and JKRunning. I don't know if it's the non-competitive aspect that many women bring to this sport or if it's that they're feminine or if it's something else, but something seems to make me happier to read those blogs now than many others which have previously rated near the top of my reading list.

I suspect it's related to my mental malaise and lack of direction in my running right now that is having this effect.

I ran a hilly hour+ this morning, and my PF in my right foot is pretty noticable.

Struggling

Right now, I'm struggling in both my blog and my running. Right now, I have little desire to run another marathon (though the prospect of popping out another Boston qualifier is appealing), and part of me wonders about the ultra guys. The ultra that I did recently was something of an oddball event, so depending on how you count, it may or may not have been an ultra.

In my blog, the lack of directon in my running removes one of the sources of material. The other key area, general health information, just seems less exciting to me right now. I don't know where things are going, and after a year and a half, I don't want to consider walking away from the blog.

I guess one thing that I could do is to ask you, my readers, if there is something you'd like to know about. Please comment!

Does Altitude Matter?

For many years, the question of whether training or living at altitude helps an athlete has raged. It is clear that there is some short-term change in oxygen carrying capacity when an athlete lives at altitude. Most authorities feel that altitude reduces the athlete's ability to do high-level workouts, so, in the past several years, "altitude tents" have become popular.

I don't know precisely how these tents work, but they simulate altitude for those living at or near sea level. This means that someone who works in New York, for example, could effectively sleep at 5,000 feet or higher. Since there are no areas in commuting distance of New York where you could actually sleep at altitudes above 1500 feet (and 1200 feet is probably more realistic), it may help a New York athlete level the playing field relative to a Denver based athlete, who could potentially sleep at high altitude every night.

The World Anti-Doping Agency (WADA) is apparently giving some thought to banning altitude tents, see this release from Race Results Weekly published on www.LetsRun.com. I was talking recently with a great runner from the past who was upset at this, and as I think about it, I don't believe it could be enforced. Any homeowner who cared to could readily weatherstrip a room or a few rooms to be able to pull a slight vacuum and thus simulate altitude. If they ban tents, where does it stop? Will they make athletes sleep with their windows open? It is a slippery slope, and in my mind, locally recreating a naturally existing condition mechanically IS NOT DOPING.

Eating Before A Run

Yesterday, while coaching, I got a very graphic display of "what not to eat before a run." So, I figured a lesson on how to eat before a run might be in order.

1) Stay away from spicy or fatty foods for about four hours before a run (the harder you'll be running, the more critical this is).

2) Carbohydrates, both simple and complex can be consumed until about 90 minutes prior to running.

3) For the hour or so prior, generally it's best to stick to liquids, and preferably those with fairly low concentrations of sugars and/or salts. (Some -ade beverages can be excellent here, though I prefer straight water or unsweetened tea except prior to an event lasting longer than an hour, when I'll add honey to my tea.)

Some of the things that I'll eat in the few hours before a race include fruit and dry cereal (skim milk in very small amounts may be OK for some - not me, large amounts will likely cause trouble).

A Diamond In The Rough

On Sunday, in a developmental meet, we had a kid in the 1500 who ran a great race. He went out a bit too fast, and was struggling early. We coaches gave him a piece of advice here and there, hang with this guy (who'd just passed him), hang with the next guy (same deal), each time we asked, he did his darnedest to comply. As they approached the finish, we shouted for him to pass the kid whose shoulder he'd been riding, he did, taking 2nd overall.

After the race, I commented to his mom that her son could be a fine racer because he was willing to suffer. She promptly replied, "It might be genetic." When I asked why, she told me that she'd been a state champ in Ohio in the late 1970's.

It's a real pleasure when you see the twinkle from a diamond in the rough.