Recommended Reads

I recently read two well-known books in the running genre, one after the other. Once a Runner and Marathon Woman couldn’t be more different, so this piece shouldn’t be taken as a straight-up comparison. Still, it was useful to contrast (on one hand) a niche novel from a bygone era and (on the other) a personal memoir of one of the most compelling characters from that same era. 

I’ll start with Parker’s book. 

I had a copy of Once a Runner on my reader long before I read it. The idea of a fictional story set in the milieu of a university track and field team interested me, but less than, say, a memoir of one of the great runners from history. True stories just resonate more with me, I guess. 

When I did finally dive in, the book was fine. Three out of five stars. Parker is a competent writer, but I found his characters to be thinly developed. I never really warmed up to the protagonist, Quenton Cassidy, a talented and driven miler. Cassidy’s mentor is the mysterious Bruce Denton. He isn’t the best role model, if I judge solely on how much he made me feel like going out for a run myself. And the female characters in the book don’t ever rise above the status of bit players or afterthoughts. There was quite a lot of 1970s-era stereotyping here too. 

I found the plot totally predictable. But that flaw didn’t bother me too much, as I had minimal expectations for the story anyway. 

What I liked in the book were Parker’s nuanced and detailed descriptions of distance training and racing. (This is no surprise, as the author was a talented runner who trained with the great Frank Shorter in Florida.) Sure, my days as an amateur track runner are well in the past, but I could fully relate to everything that Cassidy experiences as he prepares for and runs the climactic race—against a tough Kiwi, based with absolutely no disguise on the real-life John Walker—that closes the book. Anyone who has built up to a goal race would benefit from reading that part of the story. 

Overall, Once a Runner will appeal most to dedicated students of the sport and hardcore enthusiasts. Even so, if you’re like me, you’ll probably have many other choices on your reading list. When you find yourself with a gap, you might give it a try. 

The connection between my highlighted books may rest in the zone of those same societal stereotypes. In fact, Marathon Woman by Kathrine Switzer is the story of a dedicated young woman’s fight to break down those barriers. 

I knew a little about Switzer, mostly from her infamous on-course encounter with Jock Semple when she ran as the first legitimate female entrant in the 1967 Boston Marathon. 

Once I started into her book, I had trouble putting it down. Switzer writes in a comfortable style. While I wouldn’t say her book is aimed at a female audience—I really hope men read it—I did learn more about things like panty girdles than I ever thought I would. 

That said, it’s the essence of her story that is so impactful—her long, solitary battle to gain recognition for women in distance running. The next time you stand on the starting grid for a race, look around at the women who have embraced running as a key part of their lifestyle. That’s what we all can thank Switzer for. She does a great job in the book of explaining the hurdles she had to overcome to make that possible. 

Beyond her dedication as an advocate for change in women’s athletics, I had no idea how passionately Switzer pursued opportunities for women in other sports. Thanks to her diligent and courageous efforts, which are admittedly still a work in progress, women now compete on a more or less equal footing with men in many sports. I look at the Women’s World Cup which just started as an example. What a legacy Switzer has earned. 

I think you can tell which of these two books I would recommend to my friends. 

My Top 5 Books About Runners

Marathon Man, Bill Rodgers & Matthew Shepatin

Bill Rodgers was an unlikely sporting hero. His reputation as a flighty drifter stands in contrast to his intensely competitive racing personality. As we learn more about the man, we can understand this contrast and see how Rodgers progressed to the peak of the marathoning world.

I found his mile-by-mile account of the 1975 Boston Marathon—Rodgers’ breakout race and the first of his four Boston victories—to be worth the price of the book.

Marathon Man is full of motivation for amateur runners, and I highly recommend it.

In Search of Al Howie, Jared Beasley

Al Howie was an enigma. He was a troubled loner, who thought nothing of running thousands of kilometres just to compete in a race, only to turn around and run home. His 1991 record for the fastest run across Canada (72 days) stood for decades until it was broken in 2022 by local legend, Dave Proctor.

While Beasley’s book sheds some light on what drove Howie, we are in many ways left to come to our own conclusions about the man. And that’s fine.

I found the book helped me to sort out what running really means to me, and that’s why I recommend you read In Search of Al Howie for yourself.

The Perfect Mile, Neal Bascomb

All of us who enjoy running owe a debt to the three talented men who chased the four-minute mile in the early 1950s. Roger Bannister, a Brit, finally broke the barrier in 1954. And like us, he was a pure amateur. He juggled athletics training with medical studies and did groundbreaking research into the science behind aerobic exercise.

In my opinion, he paved the way for us to enjoy the sport as we do today.

What you may not know is that there was worldwide interest in the rivalry between Bannister, the Australian John Landy, and the American Wes Santee. Bascomb’s superb book, The Perfect Mile, brings this important piece of running history to life. Highly recommended!

Born to Run, Chris McDougall

This book caused quite a stir when it came out in 2010. It uncovered a whole new world of distance running, in the remote part of Mexico that is home to the fascinating Tarahumara people. Reading about their unbelievable feats of endurance left me in awe.

I was also intrigued by the mysterious American loner, Caballo Blanco, who lived and ran in the same mountain region.

The author’s own experience in a fifty-mile trail race leads him to investigate why human physiology makes us ideally suited to distance running.

These threads are woven together to make Born to Run a memorable read. See if you agree.

Duel in the Sun, John Brant

This is the story of one of the great rivalries in distance running, and possibly the most exciting Boston Marathon finish of all time.

The clash between Alberto Salazar and Dick Beardsley in 1982 has all the elements of a thriller: the brash young star and the workmanlike veteran, battling each other to the finish on a scorching day in Boston. Neither runner was ever the same again.

Their compelling personal stories are told in real-time as they run from Hopkinton to Boylston Street. Duel in the Sun is a must-read for anyone who has run that famous stretch of road. Or aspires to.  

Stroke Symptoms: Think You Know Them All?

Thanks to effective public awareness campaigns, many of us are familiar with the common signs of stroke. Think of the television ads that show us what to look for if we think someone is having a stroke.  The mnemonic “F-A-S-T” reminds us to look at the Face (is it drooping?), Arms (can you raise both?), and Speech (is it slurred?), and to waste no Time in getting help.

This checklist is a potential lifesaver because when it comes to strokes time is of the essence. But there’s more to the story. That’s because there’s more to the anatomy of our brains than what can be incorporated into a simple memory jogger of stroke symptoms. I learned this the hard way.

I’ve written elsewhere about the fascinating system that feeds blood into the human brain. More on that very soon. (By the way, everything I write on medical matters is in layman’s terms.) In brief, there are two main sets of arteries, the carotids and the vertebrals. These arteries are found in the front and back of the neck, respectively.

The carotids are the workhorses, accounting for about 80 percent of the total blood flow to the brain. And these are the arteries that, if they get blocked or damaged, can result in the symptoms noted above.

In 2017, I began to experience symptoms that didn’t fall into the handy, F-A-S-T category. Over a period of two months, I had several episodes of vertigo. I saw strange artifacts in my field of vision. I had a sensation that my body had become disconnected from my brain.

Then, one morning in July 2017, I woke up feeling odd. The first things I did were look in the mirror (to see if my Face was drooping) and talk (to see if my Speech was slurred). They weren’t. I could move my arms and legs, although they felt strangely heavy and lethargic. Naturally, I concluded I wasn’t having a stroke.

The scans done later that day in the ER said otherwise.

It turns out I had developed a blockage in my left vertebral artery. These arteries, left and right, run from a point about the level of your collarbones at the back of the neck. They join up to form the basilar artery, which feeds blood to the back of the brain. The vertebrals account for about 20 percent of the blood flow to the brain, and when they are blocked, functions like balance and coordination, including visual and hearing coordination, are affected.

The blockage in my vertebral artery had probably been there for some time before it started to cause symptoms. Until my situation was eventually brought under control, after a lengthy stay in the Foothills Medical Centre stroke ward, I experienced a wide range of symptoms. I had my eyes and ears go out of sync, as if someone had gotten hold of the control knobs in my brain and started twisting them randomly. My tongue turned into a frozen lump. My arms went into jerky spasms. It was not pleasant.

The reason I’m explaining all this is to share what I’ve learned. While catchwords are helpful, they don’t tell the whole story. If you, or someone you care about, is having any of the above symptoms or a long list of others[1], get it checked out immediately. Symptoms that are caused by a blockage in the vertebral arteries can be deadly serious, just like those in the carotid arteries.

By the way, when I did some research into the F-A-S-T mnemonic, I found some recommendations that it be modified to BE FAST. Why? The B and E would include Balance and Eye trouble in the checklist of stroke symptoms. This version of the mnemonic certainly would have helped me.

[1] Other potential symptoms of “vertebral artery stenosis” include sudden falls, severe headaches, breathing problems, confusion, trouble understanding speech, incontinence, and more.

An Ideal Photo Run

Today’s photo run was perfect.

The weather in Calgary has taken a turn. I was about to write “for the worse” but since this is a blog about running, I’ll leave that comment off. Let’s say that we have seen a change, from something approaching “too hot” to “good running weather”.

Cool temperatures and drizzle often have a way of dampening (pun intended) my enthusiasm for a run. But one thing I’ve learned is that I need to look beyond those feelings and get myself out the door. Today was no exception.

After a block or two, I knew I had made the right call. The Elbow River pathway was quiet, and the river was looking fine. The sun was trying its best to make an appearance. I knew the light would be good for photographs, so I brought along my trusty Ricoh GR III.

One spot I’ve gone by a thousand times but have had trouble capturing is the small garden on Elbow Drive at 30 Avenue SW. It’s an attractive little spot but I’ve always found something challenging about the composition. Today, though, the combination of the soft lighting, misty conditions, and the new foliage was magical. I stopped and grabbed a couple of shots without a second thought. Later, I tried Lightroom’s infrared preset and got a result that I think was very cool. I hope you’ll agree

Almost back home, and content with the run (and the photos), I passed a leafy corner and noticed two eyes peeking out from between the hedges. Closer inspection revealed that it was, in fact, the headlights of a Triumph TR3 sportscar. At least I think it was a TR3. Maybe a car expert reading this piece can confirm its pedigree. In any case, it was a scene that made me smile, and a fitting way to end my run.

Enjoy.

A Different Perspective on Sustainability

I just picked up my 1954 Leica M3 from a routine but overdue service. I couldn’t wait to get it home and load it with film. Yes, 1954. Yes, film.

Holding this remarkable machine in my hands, feeling the impressive weight of its all-metal construction, is an experience. But looking through its now clean and perfectly clear rangefinder to compose a picture and pressing its silky-smooth shutter is something else entirely. And don’t get me started on the feel of its double-stroke film advance. I hope I haven’t lost anyone yet.

Some would suggest that my nearly seven-decade-old camera, totally manual and without any kind of exposure metering, is the best camera ever made. Others might take one look and scoff at it as a worthless anachronism.

It got me thinking about how much we have lost, in our seemingly endless quest for the latest gadget. When did we get on this treadmill? The more relevant question is, why?

There are other examples of devices that seem to have reached a point of perfection, before sliding down a slippery slope on the back of consumerism. Italian racing bicycles are a good example. There are few things more suited to their purpose than steel-framed bicycles from Bianchi or Colnago, especially when kitted out with high-end components from manufacturers like Campagnolo. Just like my camera, they are perfectly suited to one job, and they were built to last.

The curious thing is that the apex for many such devices was reached at about the same time. The mid-to-late 1970s seem to have been a watershed period. After that time, something changed. An endless push for profit ensured ever-decreasing quality. Offshoring of production and substitution of parts with (usually) plasticky alternatives sealed the fate of manufacturers who had built their reputation by designing equipment that could last indefinitely.

From the consumer point of view, we came to accept this trend, because rapidly changing tastes made it less likely we would want to hold onto one product for a lifetime anyway. Fashion, which has always been at the forefront of the throwaway mindset, became a model for how other goods were marketed.

No one stops to ask if there is an alternative to the mania that accompanies each new release of the latest iPhone or the newest gee-whiz electronic gadget. To my mind, it does nothing but ensure that we will be putting a lot of material in landfills, as last year’s devices are cast aside just before they fail.

All of this makes it more satisfying that I can still pick up a camera that is older than I am and take pictures that are every bit as impactful as those coming out of the latest high-resolution, high-frame speed digital monster. Maybe more so, in fact.

Posing for her portrait, Leica M3 and Ilford Delta 100 film, 2022

When I travel with my M3, I don’t have to worry about chargers or SD cards. When I estimate the exposure with my brain, and when I get it right, there is no feeling that can compare. Sure, not all my shots are keepers, but that’s the quest that makes it worthwhile. Even the wait for my film to be processed seems to enhance the experience.

And when I’m done, I will be able to pass this wonderful machine onto my sons, knowing that with a bit of care it will serve them well for their lifetime too. How’s that for sustainability?

Running and Thermodynamics

In his book, “Running with the Pack”, philosopher Mark Rowlands makes some interesting observations about evolution. His essay, “The Serpent of Eden” starts by explaining the first and second laws of thermodynamics. While this immediately caught my attention as a chemical engineer, it may not resonate with everyone.

Basically, the preposition of the first law is that energy can neither be created nor destroyed; it can only be converted from one form into another. The second law states that any closed system (like the universe, or like us as entities within it) tends towards maximum disorder.

So, what does this have to do with running?

Well, Rowlands makes a rather neat argument that can be paraphrased as follows: because we evolved as creatures in a world where our stores of energy rely on us converting it from another source, there is a predisposition for us, as conscious beings, to focus on the competitive forces that allow us to continue living. Human beings are highly complex, closed systems, and for us to survive (that is, to avoid maximum disorder) we must compete for energy. And to do that, we must get it from another source.

Said another way, we tend to focus on those things that affect our ability to continue the competition… to stay alive. This is nothing more than the natural result of our evolutionary makeup. (Of course, the end game is predetermined, but let’s put that aside for a minute.)

Think about this. When you are running, and things are going especially well, what do you notice? Are you conscious of your heart and lungs and legs all doing their job efficiently, just as they were designed to do? No, of course not. They just get on with their job, and you enjoy the intrinsic benefits without even thinking about it.

Instead, what we tend to notice, as conscious, competitive beings, are the things that aren’t going so well. That niggling pain in your knee, or the stitch in your side, or any number of other ailments is what gets your attention. You do notice these things because, as Rowlands suggests, our brains have evolved to notice when things aren’t going well.

Rowlands gives further depth to his argument, with reference to the work of the great philosopher, Schopenhauer. And frankly, some of his observations are a bit depressing. Schopenhauer observes that because we are so highly evolved, with cognitive abilities like memory and anticipation, abilities that other creatures don’t possess, we are especially sensitive to our place in the grand thermodynamic scheme of things.

If the universe is destined to end up with maximum disorder, we might rightly ask ourselves why we bother. After all, what’s the point if we will all end up as worm food?

That’s where the Rowlands piece shines. He points out that as human beings, we have evolved as social creatures precisely because that improves our odds in the unrelenting competition for energy. The bonds that keep us together… mutual recognition, affection, love… can be seen as small bits of defiance against overwhelming odds, in a universe where the rules of the game are stacked firmly against us.

My advice is that the next time you are out running, you should spare a thought for the amazing confluence of conditions that had to go well for you to even be out there at all. The very fact that you exist is in defiance of the laws of thermodynamics, at least for the time being.

And the next time you are out running with your gang, give some consideration to them, as what Schopenhauer referred to as, “my fellow sufferers”. Since we are all in this together, it is only right that we should have some tolerance and patience with each other. As Rowlands says, “Every act of kindness we show to someone or something is a defiance of the spirit of the laws that made us”. Defiance may be futile, but it is still valuable.