An Almost Olympic Moment

I intentionally stayed in on Friday night so that I could be up and cognizant in time to watch the women's marathon at the Olympics. I wouldn't normally watch a marathon...Who really needs to see 81 sweaty women with 0% body fat run for two hours? But this time I had to watch. You see prior to running in a red dress in search of beer I actually ran for medals and ribbons and the like. When I found out that one of my former competitors, Deena Kastor, was slated to compete in the Olympic marathon I had to watch. Seeing Deena run on NBC Saturday took me back to those glory days and made me wonder what might have been...

The year was 1988, it was six months after my arrest and part of my "rehabilitation" effort required that I take up a sport and become "involved" at school. It turned out the local police knew I could run and informed a counselor at the school so I ended up on the cross-country team. It seemed like an easy enough sport - you just had to put on some shoes and run. I also realized that you got to miss class to go to meets in which all you had to do was run for about 18-20 minutes and then listen to music and watch the event. Not a bad gig if you can get it. Besides, I was a little, scrawny thing that lived off of microwave popcorn and Pepsi and wasn't really suited for any other sport.

One of the best races of my career occurred that fall at the Paramount Ranch Invitational in Agoura, California. The course ran through the sets and scenes where they filmed Little House on the Prairie. It was really a cros-country race - there was even a water crossing in which we splashed across a creek. It was on that course that I crossed paths with, and beat, a young Deena Drossin (now Kastor). Of course, it was a freak incident for me - some speculated I must have cut the course - and she beat me the other dozen or so times we raced. Still, on the Saturday morning of the Olympic marathon I pulled out my old scrap book, donned my high school running jersey, popped a bag of Blast 'O Butter, opened a Pepsi, and dreamed of what might have been...

After I accepting my imaginary Olympic medal I was pulled back into reality considering the enormity of what it must have taken Deena to get to the Olympics hit me. I pondered her deidication and commitment to a goal and retraced my life in comparison to hers...I figured that for every beer I'd had she must have run at least a mile; for every annoying boyfriend, a demanding coach instead; for every spontaneous trip - a training schedule; early to bed rather than dancing the night away; having to choose a PowerBar over extra crispy french fries, Gatorade in lieu of a cosmopolitan, running shoes rather than heels. As I closed the scrap book, proud of my old competitor Deena I realized that for me the memories count than the medals.

I know this was a cheesy post, but I was feeling sentimental...