Eat as much food as you can at aid stations. Salt pills are also a great idea. I took two pills every 10 miles. I’m not sure whether they helped, but I didn’t seem to get stomach problems. Start slowly. I was in 136th place after 10 miles and moved up each lap to finish in 66th place, since my speed

was relatively even.

Brilliant Past, Uncertain Future, Canadians Have a Vaunted History.

“Where is it now, the glory and the dream?”

(From Ode, Intimations of Immortality from Recollections of Early Childhood by William Wordsworth, 1770-1850)

ou could call them also-rans. They were ordinary men—laborers, stonecutters,

farmers, printers, shoemakers, and carpenters. They worked hard to earn a living. But they also ran wherever and whenever they could. They ran without modern fripperies, like water stations, wicking fabrics, heart rate monitors, or even decent running shoes. They ran for the love of it, and then, thanks to the 1896 rebirth of the Olympic Games, they ran for glory on an international stage. A remarkable number found fame, although none found fortune in the conventional sense.

CHASING GOLD

William Sherring, a 29-year-old railway brakeman who had won many races at Ontario country fairs, was the first to make it to the Olympics. He had already outrun the competition by twice winning Hamilton’s Around the Bay, and he had placed second in Boston in 1900, but it was much more difficult to outrun the need for money.

According to Sherring family lore, the city of Hamilton grudgingly agreed to pay his way to the 1906 Intercalated (intermediate, subsequently unofficial) Olympics on one condition: Sherring had to be accompanied by the city’s trainer. Sherring refused, because it would mean ditching Butch Collyer, his coach of many years. No one is quite sure what happened next, but according to one version told by his daughter, Helen Callender, Sherring turned to his friends. They chipped in what they could, and he bet the lot on a horse named Cicely. Amazingly, Cicely won, and Sherring set off for Greece without knowing how he would pay his way home; he had won enough to cover his fare one way only.

Another version, told by Jim Sherring, a nephew, is that his famous uncle, who would gamble on anything that moved, may well have bet his friends’ money on a horse, but there’s no way it would have won; Sherring was a notoriously poor gambler. He got himself to Greece by signing on a steamship as boiler-room crew to pay his passage across the Atlantic. When not shoveling coal, he trained by running around the deck.

Regardless of how he managed it, on arrival, Sherring found work on the Greek railway, most likely as a porter. It was enough to pay for room and board. He spent every spare minute during the next month training and acclimatizing. The evening before the marathon, he visited the American contingent and shook hands all around, telling everyone that he thought they would like to meet tomorrow’s winner. Whether it was well-founded self-confidence or simply in-your-face bravado, the next day, May 1, 1906, he did it. The Italian favorite, Dorando Pietri, stricken by stomach trouble, left the field at the 24-kilometer (15-mile) mark. Sherring took the lead and finished in 2:51:23.6, a full seven minutes faster than the Swedish silver winner and nine minutes faster than the American bronze winner. (The race distance, incidentally, was 41.88 kilometers. It was 1924 before 42.195 kilometers became the standard, official Olympic marathon distance.)

The Olympic Games That Never Were

International rivalries have always been part of the modern Olympics both on the field and off. National organizing committees still jostle for the right to stage the Games and get the glory.

In 1896, the Olympic organizing committee’s compromise solution was “Intercalated Olympics.” Every four years, “International Olympics” would be held somewhere in conjunction with a world’s fair or exhibition. In between, “Intercalated Olympics” would be held in Athens itself and focus strictly on athletic events.

The inaugural Intercalated Games, held in 1906, were a stunning success. For the first time, athletes registered officially through national Olympic committees, public opening and closing ceremonies were held, competitors entered the stadium as national teams carrying national flags, and javelin and pentathlon were part of the competition.

Subsequent Intercalated Games were less well-organized and financed, however. Then World War | intervened, and the Games were suspended for the duration. After the War, Olympic officials decided to cancel the Intercalated plan and rewrite Olympic history. The 1906 Olympics were reclassified as a 10th Anniversary Celebration, and the athletes’ achievements were designated as “unofficial.”

When Sherring entered the stadium, 14 pounds lighter than the 98 pounds he weighed when he started, Prince George of Greece hurried from his viewing stand and accompanied Sherring across the finish line. He was presented with the gold medal and statuettes of Minerva and Hermes. They are still in the family’s possession today.

No one is sure how Sherring managed to get himself back to Canada. Helen Callender thinks his friends passed around a hat. Jim Sherring thinks the city of Hamilton decided, now that it had a winner on its hands, to cough up. Regardless, he was given a hero’s welcome, some cash, and other honors.

In the meantime, Sherring’s contemporaries—James Duffy, James J. (Jack) Caffery, Edouard Fabre, George Goulding, Dave Komonen, Tom “Wildfire” Longboat, R. J. MacDonald, Alf Shrubb, and Walter Young—also gave their all at Boston (only Shrubb failed to win there and he came in second) and pursued the Olympic dream. A remarkable number made it. Fabre competed at the 1906 Olympics, Goulding in 1908 and 1912, and Caffery and Longboat in 1908. Only Goulding ascended the winners’ podium, and then it was gold for 10,000 meters rather than the marathon. Still, they proved they could match and beat the best in the world.

These early distance runners paved the way for the next generation—the likes of Johnny Miles. Born in Halifax, England, he immigrated to Canada where he found work as the manager of a manufacturing company and fame as an extraordinary runner. He won Boston in 1926 and 1929, edging out Clarence DeMar, captured bronze in the 1930 British Empire (now Commonwealth) Games, and competed in the 1928 and 1932 Olympic Games.

One of the most colorful was Gérard Cété. An advertising salesman who enjoyed a cold beer and a lively press conference almost as much as winning, he triumphed at Boston an astonishing four times and earned the U.S. Amateur Athletic Union marathon title three times. World War II prevented him from competing at the Olympics during his peak years, and when his chance finally came in 1948, leg cramps pushed him to a heartbreaking 17th-place finish.

BUILDING COMMUNITY

As the post-World War II prosperity provided more opportunities for everyone, the idea of talent spotting, supporting talented runners, and encouraging broader participation in sports began to form.

Well-regarded athletes-turned-educators, like Neil Farrell, Maury Van Vliet, Ron Wallingford, and Harold Wright, felt Canadian runners would live up to their potential only if given proper, consistent support. They used their knowledge, experience, and contacts to mobilize resources, including financing from governments and the private sector, and they founded organizations such as the Ontario

Courtesy of BAA,

<4 Gérard Cété, raised in St. Hyacinthe, Quebec, where he lived most of his life, set aside his first love (boxing) for running when a famous runner of the time, Pete Gavuzzi, spotted Cété’s potential.

Coaches Association, the Canadian Olympic Association, and CAPHER (now the Canadian Association for Health, Physical Education, Recreation and Dance).

Coaching became a matter of concern. Paul Poce, a talented runner in his own right, wasn’t the first professional coach (Alf Shrubb coached cross-country teams at Harvard University in 1915

“and Oxford University from

* 1915 to 1920), but he was certainly one of the first to make it a long-term career choice. He coached Canada’s

national track and field team in 1966 and since then has taken charge of many of

Canada’s Olympic teams and elite athletes. Today, as the longtime head coach of

the Toronto Olympic Club (TOC), he is revered by Jerome Drayton, Peter Maher,

Andy Boychuk, Dave Ellis, and others who, with Poce’s help, ran their way into Canadian marathon history.

Providing opportunities to compete was another critical development. In 1963, Doug Kyle, a 5,000- and 10,000-meter Olympian, found the marathon distance and found it good. He decided the best way to feed his passion was to bring the 1964 Canadian Olympic time trials to his hometown, Calgary, Alberta. But how to convince the powers-that-be? The answer was obvious: stage a marathon. When 19 serious young men showed up at the start line, they inaugurated the first marathon in western Canada. In 2004, the BURNCO Calgary Marathon welcomed more than 7,000 participants as it celebrated its 40th anniversary, the longest continuous marathon in Canada.

Eventually, other people got the message. Today, there is a marathon in every major city in Canada, as well as in many smaller communities. Perhaps the most unusual is the fabled Midnight Sun Marathon in Nanisivik on Baffin Island in Nunavut (formerly the Northwest Territories), north of the Arctic Circle.

Cowboys, Grizzlies, and Dinosaurs

Come to the Calgary Marathon only if you want a whole lot of fun along with your run. The marathon is the signature event in a lineup that also offers a half-marathon, 10K, 4 x 10K relay, and a kids’ race. In 2004, of the 7,000 or so entrants, roughly 1,000 did the marathon, which makes it large enough to be companionable but small enough to be friendly and personal. Runners, walkers, and wheelers of all ages are given a warm western welcome wherever they go. And they will want to go everywhere, because marathon weekend is always coordinated with the Calgary Stampede, which starts the second weekend of July.

The Stampede is a 10-day stretch of lively, nonstop, funky fun. The whole city gets into the act with free pancake breakfasts, marching bands, beer tents, parades, arts and crafts sales, and, of course, the midway, exhibits, and entertainments at the Fairgrounds. The rodeo, chuck-wagon races, and grandstand show are topnotch. Plus you can’t get lost; there are volunteer hosts by the dozen. Pause for a moment and you will be pounced upon by someone sporting a 10-gallon hat, wearing a huge smile, and bearing a map of the city.

Calgary has a whole lot to offer besides the Stampede, like the Glenbow Museum downtown and the Calgary Zoo on the outskirts. The Glenbow’s permanent exhibits include a full-size tepee, a major collection of Blackfoot artifacts, and wonderful displays that bring to life the early days of the Northwest Mounted Police (which evolved into today’s Royal Canadian Mounted Police), the building of the Canadian National Railway, and the daily challenges faced by early fur traders, farmers, ranchers, and other immigrants. At the zoo, must-sees include remarkable indigenous animals, such as bighorn sheep, cougars, lynx, moose,

§ = = &

z a S >

A The Calgary Marathon debuted on a warm but cloudy day in August 1963.

swift foxes, and grizzly bears, as well as pandas from Asia. All are housed in natural habitat displays, the largest in Canada.

After you’ve explored the city to your satisfaction, follow the Cowboy Trail in the foothills. Hike, bike, fish, golf, and climb. Relax in the Radium Hot Springs. Visit the Northwest Mounted Police Museum in Canmore. Take a day to see the world’s largest display of complete dinosaur skeletons at the Royal Tyrrell Museum in Drumheller.

But if you have time for just one other thing, make it a visit to Banff National Park, a UNESCO World Heritage site and a true gem in the Canadian Rockies. Lake Louise, the most famous glacier-fed lake in Canada, is a two-hour drive from Calgary. Hop on the gondola. The mountain views are spectacular. If you’re lucky, you’ll see some grizzlies, moose, deer, mountain goats, and other wildlife in situ. Then, lunch sumptuously at the buffet at the Lodge of the Ten Peaks. It’s a day you will remember forever.

All rely heavily on volunteers and corporate sponsors. Most offer the marathon as a signature event in a lineup that includes a half-marathon, 10K, and other distances, and they encourage people of all ages and abilities to participate and raise money for charity. Calgary’s charity, for example, is the YMCA’s Strong Kids Campaign. For Toronto’s Canadian International Marathon, it’s the Ontario Cancer Institute and Princess Margaret Hospital. For Ottawa’s National Capital Marathon, it’s breast cancer and prostate cancer treatment centers, and for Montreal’s Standard Life Marathon, it’s the Foundation for Research into Children’s Diseases. The Royal Victoria Marathon works with several local charities while some of the profits from the Niagara Fallsview Casino Marathon flow to the local community. Others, such as Toronto’s Scotiabank Toronto Waterfront Marathon and Québec’s Marathon des Deux Rives, take a different tack. They encourage participants to raise money for several approved charities.

As Canada was transformed into a prosperous urban society, the momentum built. Talented runners found a collegial, supportive community. Local running clubs, like TOC, which celebrated its 50th anniversary in October 2004, sprang up. The results were stunning.

THE GOLDEN YEARS

For two decades, from the mid-1960s to the mid-1980s, it was almost possible to believe that Canadians would take control of the distance-running world. It was a golden time when legendary runners like Jerome Drayton ran into the history books. And, like Sherring and Coté, they were highly individualistic, often eccentric, and driven from within to run.

Jerome Drayton is still the best-known marathoner of this period. Described by contemporaries as a physiological marvel, he was a spare, 130-pound, 5-foot9-inch coiled spring with just 5 percent body fat and a resting pulse rate of 27. Despite a serious leg discrepancy that resulted in chronic pain and other problems, he won the Asahi Marathon in Fukuoka, Japan, three times (in 1969, 1975, and 1976). He finished first in Guelph (1968), Detroit (1969 and 1970), St. John’s (1974), and Boston (1977). He was on Canada’s Olympic team twice (1968 and 1976). He was ranked as one of the world’s top 10 by Track & Field News in 1969, 1975, 1976, and 1977. He was named Canadian marathon champion in 1972 and 1973 and still holds the Canadian men’s record for his 2:10:09 in Fukuoka on December 6, 1975.

The quintessential loner, uncommunicative to the point of surliness, he trained alone except for Sundays when he often joined other members of TOC for what he described as a social run. Even then, he held himself apart. His contemporaries tell stories of Drayton’s smug smile as he took the lead and of his remarkable ability to fart, seemingly on demand, as he pulled ahead, something they interpreted as a gesture of contempt. :

In 1975, Drayton took a | job as a fitness, recreation, if and sports administrator with ¢ f the Ontario government’s “~~ Ministry of Tourism and ¥ Recreation, where he stayed [# – until reaching retirement age in 2002. He continued running competitively until 1980, however, despite a disappointing second-place finish at the 1978 Commonwealth Games in Edmonton, because he still hoped to medal at the Olympics. But when Canada boycotted the 1980 Moscow Olympics, he decided it was time to walk away. He ran only to win, and he judged his time to win was

» Jerome Drayton still represents the gold standard for aspiring Canadian marathoners.

© Jeff Johnson

past. He had no interest, he said, in becoming the world’s best marathoner at the masters level. Nor had he any interest in coaching. He withdrew completely from the running world. Today, he continues to live quietly, and not running, with his mother in Toronto.

Drayton’s contemporaries were just as young, eager, and hungry for success. They too worked at day jobs, but they also had families and became the best of friends as they trained in their spare time and jockeyed for position on the track. They ran to win, and they ran because something inside pushed them to it.

Wayne Yetman, also employed by the Ontario government for many years, won Detroit in 1968 and Ottawa in 1976 and was on Canada’s 1976 Olympic team. For him, one of the biggest thrills of his running career was taking two seconds off Drayton’s 10,000-meter time in a 1976 Toronto road race. Yetman ran for what he describes as the “other joy.” “On certain days in training, when I ran absolutely wonderfully, it was like magic,” he said. “I would run 20 miles as a fluid, perfect machine, and the faster I would go, the more effortlessly it would come. It was a wonderful feeling.”

Robert (Bobby) Moore, a mild-mannered professor of biochemistry by day, chased the marathon in every spare moment even though he was warned against it because of a chronic foot problem. But he was determined to run Boston at least once, which he did in 1969, placing fifth, and then, hooked by the camaraderie and excitement, he just kept going. Some 50 marathons later, including three more times at Boston, he still enjoys what he calls “the fine game.”

For Moore, a big thrill was being treated as a world-class runner. On one occasion, he and Drayton were offered elite status at Fukuoka. The catch was they had to pay their own airfare. Fortunately, TOC’s Paul Poce arranged for the Canadian government to cover that expense. Otherwise, says Moore, it would have been impossible. After all, he had a family to feed.

On another occasion, at the Canadian National Exhibition Marathon in Toronto in 1969, the start time was unusually late so as not to interfere with the grandstand show. Bob Hope was the headliner and certainly far more important to the city than a mere marathon. But since the course took the 25 elite runners through streets open to traffic and pedestrians, each runner was escorted by a police officer on motorcycle to the amazement of onlookers and the amusement of the competitors.

Many others achieved amazing results. Andy Boychuk won gold in 1967 at both the Commonwealth and Pan-American Games.

Brian Maxwell, of PowerBar fame, Canadian national champion in 1975, winner at Enschede in the Netherlands in 1977, followed it up by winning the Commonwealth trial in Ottawa in 1978 by just 0.2 seconds, the closest recorded finish in a marathon. Mike Dyon, today president of RMP Athletic Locker Ltd., was Canadian national champion in 1977 and 1982, won Ottawa three times,

competed at the Commonwealth Games in 1982, and has 16 finishes of 2:20 or better. Dyon is admired to this day by many for his overall performance, longevity, and commitment to the sport.

Dave Edge, one of a team that surprised everyone by winning the 1981 World Cup Marathon Championship in Montreal, won the Olympic trial in Ottawa in 1984 and then silver at the 1986 Commonwealth Games.

Art Boileau was on the 1984 Olympic team and twice a national champion.

It was also a magical time for those women runners with exceptional endurance both on the course and off. They challenged the (male) consensus that long-distance running was inherently dangerous for their delicate constitutions. (Today, by the way, in Canada the number of women runners is equal to or, in cases like the Calgary Marathon, greater than the number of men.)

Chris Lavelle, Gail Mackean, and Diane Palmason were among the first. Lavelle won Ottawa’s National Capital Marathon twice (in 1979 and 1980), Mackean won in Vancouver in 1979, and Palmason won silver in two events at the World Veterans Track and Field Championships in 1979—the 10,000 meter and the marathon.

In 1980, Jacqueline Gareau won Boston in a course record of 2:34:28, the thrill of her victory overshadowed by the Rosie Ruiz affair. That same year she placed second at the all-women Tokyo Marathon. Over subsequent years, she

Courtesy of BA.A.

<4 A woman of grace and dignity, Jacqueline Gareau was thrust into the marathon spotlight when she won Boston in 1980, the only Canadian woman to do so.

placed first at the Ile d’Orleans, Montreal International, Skylon, National Capital, and Los Angeles marathons, and she was a member of Canada’s 1984 Olympic team.

In 1981, Linda Staudt placed first at the Tokyo all-women’s marathon.

won Ottawa’s National Capital Marathon, her very first, and qualified for Canada’s Olympic team. That summer, she competed in the Los Angeles Olympics and finished eighth in spite of her inexperience and a fall on the

in Houston with a time of 2:28:36 and seemed blessed by destiny. Unfortunately, a traffic accident ended her competitive career just three weeks later. Today, she runs for her own enjoyment and to inspire others, especially young runners.

As the 1980s ended, Canada still had runners capable of competing with the international elite. Take, for example, the 1994 Commonwealth Games. Carole Rouillard won gold and Lizanne Bussiéres took silver. Bussiéres has also been on Canada’s Olympic team twice and came in third in Boston in 1990. But despite these bright spots, the tapering of talent and the slide down the results ladder had begun.

FROM SYNERGY TO THE SIDELINES

So what happened? How could Canada find itself without a marathon team at the 2004 Olympics in Athens? Informed observers offer several explanations.

The reason Canada now stands on the international marathon sidelines is clearly not lack of talent, says John Stanton, founder of the Running Room. Hugh Cameron, who was Athletic Canada’s national distance event coordinator for the 1984 Olympics and who coached such high achievers as Mike Dyon, Dave Edge, Silvia Ruegger, and Nicole Stevenson, agrees. So does Dave Scott-Thomas, head coach of the University of Guelph’s National Endurance Centre. They point to a lack of resources combined with a cultural shift.

The Sublime, the Sweet, and the Silly

In 1908, Canadian George Lister set a world record that stands to this day. He crossed the Olympic marathon finish line in the slowest time ever officially recorded (4:22:45).

Jim Peters completed his last marathon on June 26, 1954, in a record-setting 2:17:39.4. But this British runner is best remembered for his almost-finish at the 1954 Empire Games in Vancouver six weeks later. He had a 20-minute lead when entering the stadium, but exhausted by the heat and likely severely dehydrated, he collapsed 300 yards from the finish line. He managed to drag himself up and stagger forward; unfortunately, he reached the wrong finish line. Concerned officials and spectators, including Roger Bannister of four-minutemile fame, rushed to his aid. When he regained consciousness the next day, Peters learned he had been disqualified. Still, at least he got within sight of his goal. During the same event, his compatriot, Stan Cox, ran into a metal light post and knocked himself out just two miles from the finish.

From the start, Silvia Ruegger specialized in heart-stopping moments. At her very first marathon, Ottawa’s National Capital in 1984, she qualified for Canada’s Olympic team. Later that summer, she finished eighth at the Los Angeles Olympics, an astonishing accomplishment for a new runner. The following January, she ran 2:28:36 in Houston, setting a Canadian women’s marathon record that still stands. Sadly, her competitive career was cut short by a car accident just three weeks later. Today, she focuses her immense energy and drive on inspiring young runners.

Elite long-distance runner Peter Fonseca, who competed for Canada at the 1996 Olympics in Atlanta, holds fifth spot in Canadian all-time outdoor rankings compiled by Athletics Canada. He has switched, however, to a different endurance sport: politics. In 2003, he was elected as an M.P.P. (Member of the Provincial Parliament) representing electors in Mississauga East, a riding near Toronto.

Canadians have won at Boston 16 times, beginning in 1898 with R. J. MacDonald, a student from Antigonish, Nova Scotia. The last was Jerome Drayton in 1977.In between, Gérard Cété, who loved boxing and a good cigar, won it an astonishing four times (in 1940, 1943, 1944, and 1948). Other multiple winners include James Caffery (1900 and 1901) and Johnny Miles (1926 and 1929).

In 1983, when Canadians Sylviane and Patricia Puntous, then 23 years old, crossed the Orlando, Florida, marathon finish line together in 2:42:53.1, they earned enduring fame in The Guinness Book of the Marathon as the world’s fastest female twins.

Canadians believe in having fun. . . just not too much. The latest proof? Everyone knows the Calgary Stampede is a 10-day whoop-de-do that shuts down the city while the entire population concentrates on more important things in life: broncobusting, chuck-wagon races, pancake breakfasts, open bars, and corn dogs. The University of Calgary, however, has injected a suitably sobering note. In 2004, it launched a Canadian studies course titled “The Culture of the Calgary Stampede.” Students examine what the Stampede represents and contributes to the city and surrounding area. So, like, party hard, but don’t let it get out of hand, eh?

Today’s talented distance runners simply can’t afford it. Says Scott-Thomas, “There is a crisis in terms of basic support. The opportunities are narrowing. It’s not a healthy situation for distance runners in Canada. Some highly motivated individuals will survive if they can put together their own support systems.” And if they can’t? He shakes his head.

One hundred years ago, it was possible to work at a full-time day job and also run at the elite level. Even 20 to 30 years ago, it was possible, thanks to employers sufficiently understanding and supportive to grant time off to compete in international events. It simply isn’t possible now.

Today, students spend more years in school, graduate burdened with bigger student loans they must begin to repay immediately, and need full-time employment ASAP. Expectations have changed, too. Employees could usually count on weekends for training and racing. Today, they are expected to be available virtually around the clock. Public funding is skimpy. Corporate support is usually reserved for those who are already on their way to stardom. In the meantime, families have to be fed. Training costs big money and, if one is truly serious, demands full-time attention. Careers put on ice risk being permanently frozen. All in all, it doesn’t add up to very good odds.

But, still, there is some money to be had. Why aren’t marathoners getting it? The explanation seems to have its own peculiar logic—if you’re a bureaucrat charged with managing continually shrinking financial resources. If there’s less to go around, change the rules so there is less need to go around. Canada’s marathoners, whose sport does not lend itself to brief and spectacular video clips, seem to be perfect targets for the tactic of the self-fulfilling prophecy: set a standard so high as to be virtually impossible for anyone to meet, and then declare those who fail to meet it as inadequate and therefore not deserving of support. Cross them off the list, and think no more about it.

In this case, the bureaucratic villain is the Canadian Olympic Committee (COC). It’s a private, not-for-profit corporation focused, according to its Web site (www.olympics.ca/EN/index. shtml), on “supporting athletes, coaches and programs

that demonstrate the greatest potential for international success.” It has enormous clout because it is “the largest private sector funder of high-performance sport in Canada” and sets the rules that determine who is eligible to represent Canada at the Olympics.

The COC decided that the only way for marathon runners to demonstrate they have “greatest potential for international success” was to prove it in advance. Marathoners aspiring to the 2004 Olympics had to meet the time standard set by the International Olympic Committee (IOC) just like their international counterparts. Fair enough. But they also had to set a Canadian record, which meant they had to exceed the IOC standard by a considerable margin. So runners like Nicole Stevenson were deemed not sufficiently well qualified to represent Canada. (Canadian Marathoning, by the way, shows Stevenson in the number two slot in the 2004 national marathon rankings based on her time of 2:33:37 in Houston on January 18, 2004. For more details, see www.canadianmarathoning.bc.ca.)

To be fair, some knowledgeable observers not connected with the COC express sentiments that could be construed as at least sympathetic to the COC’s position. Their view is that while some Canadian marathoners are clocking pretty good times (and meeting the IOC’s standard for the Olympics) and some are promising up-and-comers, they aren’t yet ready for this premier international meet. It would be cruel and embarrassing to throw them into a race against international elites with all the world’s media watching and second-guessing.

An example of an up-and-comer is 27-year-old Kristina Rody, who placed third in Ottawa on May 30, 2004. (Her 2:48:06 finish earned her the number five slot on Canadian Marathoning’s 2004 national marathon rankings.) Rody returned

Rural Planning and Development. One attraction is being able to resume training with Coach Scott-Thomas. The fact is, however, Rody still hasn’t decided whether the marathon is her distance. “Most people my age are sticking with the shorter stuff,’ she comments. “The (marathon) distance is intimidating.”

Scott-Thomas agrees with this cautious approach. Distance runners need to be a bit older, he says. They need more time for their bodies to develop and more years to experiment with the distance and decide whether it really suits them. It’s a long, tough road at which they’re looking, and not just in the form of training miles. Distance runners have to be very sure they are ready to commit; otherwise, there’s no point in starting.

Alan Brookes, race director of the Scotiabank Toronto Waterfront Marathon, thinks a good deal of the problem is rooted in long-standing rivalries among sports federations. They were so busy struggling for power they lost sight of their most important tasks: spotting talent and providing the support needed to nourish it. “We had inspirational, world-class heroes, and we fumbled it away,” he says. “By the late 1980s, it was all gone. The 1990s were a lean time. It’s just the last

1 five years things started again.”

Bruce Deacon, who ran with Canada’s marathon team at the 1996 and 2000 Olympics, thinks the mainstream media must also carry a share of the blame. The media’s short attention span results in a destructive feast and famine cycle. How can members of the public be expected to understand and support amateur sports when they hear virtually nothing about them except during the Olympic Games, he asks (in “Athletes run on media attention,’ The Globe and Mail, August 31, 2004)? The result is a chronic paucity of funding and other types of support that discourages athletes with potential. “Without consistent coverage of Olympic sports and the issues that affect Canada’s performance, there isn’t enough public pressure to warrant funding changes.”

SSS ice

wwwbrightroom.com

A Bruce Deacon is admired as one of Canada’s best and most consistent marathoners.

MISSION: MAY BE POSSIBLE

Has the time for Canadian marathoners passed for good? The consensus appears to be “situation dire but not hopeless.”

Brookes thinks Canada can recover its international standing if sports federations build bridges with AIMS (Association of International Marathons and Road Races) and develop a high-quality product, one that will attract elite international runners. “I think there is an opportunity for two or three Canadian cities to move into the very good second tier, like Los Angeles and Chicago,” he says. That would raise the profile of distance in Canada, attract more support, and give runners with potential the competitive environment they need to develop and flourish.

Barrie Shepley, cofounder and president of Toronto’s Personal Best, who has coached Canada’s national triathlon team since 1991, also thinks the situation can be salvaged, but he would start much earlier in the development cycle.

“If we don’t increase our focus on growing a larger active base of children and teenagers,” Shepley cautions (in “Want more medals? Get kids active again,” The Globe and Mail, August 24, 2004), “we are destined to remain in the lower ranks of Olympic nations.” He cites several concrete, back-to-basics steps Canada needs to take: make physical education mandatory in schools again; make sure every school has trained physical educators; introduce children to many sports and allow their personal interests and body types to dictate their future focus; enhance facilities and resources, including improving remuneration for university-level coaches; spot talent and nurture it; and don’t rush to judgment.

People like Stanton, Cameron, and Scott-Thomas, as well as race directors and others plugged into the running community across the country, generally agree that the situation, while immensely challenging, is far from hopeless. They believe Canada is in the early stages of another running boom. Race participation numbers are growing in every category. They have faith that if Canada gets enough people competing, eventually elite-level competitors will emerge and nothing—even tepid public support—will stop them.

The volunteers who organize the BURNCO Calgary Marathon take it as an article of faith. “We try to get everyone from 3-year-olds to 93-year-olds running, walking, or wheeling,” says Rod Rees, president. “It makes sense from every point of view. It pays off in healthy people, and healthy people make for healthy communities. Everybody wins. Besides, who knows? That cute little 5-year-old could be the next Jerome Drayton or Silvia Ruegger.”

Who’s Who in Canadian Marathoning

Canadian running legends Jerome Drayton and Silvia Ruegger still top the Canadian All-Time Outdoor rankings. Athletics Canada, the sport governing body for track and field in Canada, lists Drayton and Ruegger as number one on the list of the best Canadian distance runners.

Here are the top 10 men and women on that list as of December 31, 2004:

MEN Jerome Drayton Peter Maher Peter Butler Don Howieson David Edge Carey Nelson Art Boileau Bruce Deacon Peter Fonseca Richard Hughson