Unfair is Fair, and Vice Versa

The I.A.A.F is prepared to rewrite the record books. In late August, the world governing body of track and field decided that records in women's road races will not count unless they are set in a women's-only race, the New York Times reported yesterday. Talk about the rule change has been circulating since the decision was made - but yesterday's article by the Times (one) adds more context and (two) brings news of the change to people who are not regular visitors to LetsRun.

What does this mean? It means, for one, that the women's world marathon record will no longer be 2 hours 15 minutes 25 seconds, arguably the most impressive world record currently in the books. The world record, instead, will be Paula Radcliffe's third fastest mark: 2:17:42 at the 2005 London Marathon, a race in which elite women, as has become more common in major marathons, started 45 minutes ahead of the men's field. Radcliffe's 2:15:25 will now be known as the "world best."

This is interesting, though: Radcliffe told the Times that she intentionally ran next to the men in her pack, not behind them. She was not drafting, but racing.

Now, here's a quote from Mary Wittenberg, director of the New York City Marathon:

"The I.A.A.F. wanted to show that women can stand on their own two feet, that they don’t need guys to help them get to world records. There’s definitely a difference. Women run faster with men as pacers, about a two-minute differential on average."

That, in a nutshell, is what concerns the I.A.A.F. What put this rule change on the table, apparently, was Mary Keitany's world-record breaking half marathon run in February. Paced by a man, the Kenyan athlete lowered the record by 35 seconds.

But, back to Wittenberg's point of women running faster with male pacers. Well, of course they do. They do not, however, run faster because they are running behind men. They are running faster because they are running behind pacers.

Pacers, or rabbits, meanwhile, have become more than just ever-present in all word record running attempts; it has gotten to the point that they are considered entirely necessary to make them happen. We are not really talking about the affect of having assistance, then, so much as we are talking about how much assistance - and to what degree - is acceptable for a performance to still count as a world record.

What, however, is the reality? The reality, or the way things stand, is as Amby Burfoot of Runner's World wrote to the Times in an e-mail:

"We all understand that as long as you cover a fair, accurate course on your own two feet, then your effort should be eligible for a world record."

Should there be a distinction between mixed races in which women, unplanned, might happen to run within a pack of men, and "staged" world record attempts during which women draft behind a male pacer from the start? That, to me, might make some sense. As it happens, the argument against "staged" world records has become a fairly popular one to make; it's just that, for the most part, such races have involved men.

How can the I.A.A.F. be concerned about Mary Keitany but not about Haile Gebrselassie? More so, how can one possibly say that Gebrselassie's 2:03:59, set during a staged time trial, is legit and Radcliffe's stunning run was not? Perhaps it's time, then, to reclassify Geb's run as the "world best."

To Boston

On the East Coast, registration for the Boston Marathon opened yesterday at 10 a.m. I filled out the race application online yesterday at around 10:05.

With most races this is a process you try to get through as quickly as possible. The main thing you are paying attention to is unclicking anything that might result in more e-mails and not clicking on anything that might cost you more money. This process was different; it's hard to explain. I actually took the time to choose my real profession; I chose the shirt in my size, not my wife's.

This felt almost life changing. Like, I woke up yesterday morning and just thought, you need to start being better about things. About everything. You need to start living better in all ways. You need to really imbibe the lessons of Don Juan and start living like death is on your shoulder. Stop messing around. Focus. Be the person you really want to be; follow all the way through.

I do not want to say I will train harder for this race than I ever have before. What I want to say is that I will train smarter - with more focus, with more zeal.

My priorites will be family, work, school and running, in that order. In turn, I will, whenever possible, excise the intangibles (the distractions). That could make a huge difference.

I will write more about what I have been doing in training a bit later on - maybe after Sunday's Philadelphia Rock N Roll Half Marathon. But, in short, the purpose of everything I am doing right now in training has been to prepare myself to train as effectively as possible for Boston.

The new year can't come fast enough.

Frank's Story

"I threw a 4:33 surge between miles nine and 10, and from that point on I was out of sight of the guys trailing me—Mamo Wolde [of Ethiopia], Derek Clayton [of Australia], and Kenny [Moore of the United States]," Shorter says, recalling the Munich marathon. "The whole second half, I kept hitting my pace. I had the talent to go out fast, by myself, and ride the pain. I learned that from watching Clayton and Ron Clarke, but it was also something I internalized from my childhood."

Until John Brant's profile on Frank Shorter in the October edition of Runner's World, discussions of his gold medal-winning race at the 1972 Munich Olympics did not touch upon what the above quote addresses. That's because, for the most part, the details of Shorter's childhood was something only he was privy to.

News that our father of the American running boom's own father was abusive first broke in 1991, the first time Shorter shared this information with a reporter. The New York Times, based on a story that ran in a Florida newspaper, ran a brief. Shorter's father, who died in 2008, denied the accusation. The story dissipated.

With the publication of this article, Shorter tells Brant, his silence has officially been broken. With it, we have a new window into Shorter's soul.

This story is wrenching. This is a story you find out about, find it and read all the way through. Its length, or whatever is happening at work, are of no consequence.

In the picture above, Shorter, left, is racing against Bill Rodgers. It was a great rivalry. These are two runners students of the sport continue to both romanticize and study. I, for one, read both of their biographies while in high school. It was my first year of competitive running, and here's what sticks with me:

Rodgers: High mileage yet all over the the place training. Big eater.

Shorter: 17 miles a day, two track workouts, 20 miles or two hours (whichever came first) on Sunday. Barely ate. Few cans of beer per night.

This is to say that these were books about training, about the sport.

But there is something else, something more awkward. Everyone loves Boston Bill. Shorter? What I had always heard was that he was not a very nice guy - that he was kind of hard to figure out. "I'll have to see to believe it," I'd say.

This, meanwhile, was Shorter's secret. His training partners, his rivals ... no one knew.