Staying the Distance

In his 1958 story, "Staying the Distance," William R. Loader describes a fictional 5000m race held at White Stadium in London, the final event of a dual meet between England and the USSR. The race is expected to be a two-man contest between the challenger -- an accomplished British international -- and the world-record holder, a Russian of steely disposition whose primary race tactic is to set a cruel pace from the beginning and then destroy his opponents with pitiless surges. Into this mix is thrown another man, a young unheralded British runner who changes the course of the race.

It's a great story, inspired, perhaps, by real-life events of a few years earlier when Chris Chataway ran a 5000m world record to score an upset over the great Vladimir Kuts in what the BBC called "one of the most remarkable races seen on a British track."

Loader's story was republished in "The Runner's Literary Companion," and still makes for great reading. From the description of the stadium full of 40,000 fans, to the perspective of the vast Telly audience watching from their homes, to the breathless, spontaneous excitement of the commentators, it describes a collective experience that makes even weekend warriors want to go out and run to the point of collapse and then throw everything into a life-or-death sprint.

I thought of this story today as I read accounts of Britain's triumph in the 10K at the European Championships. After not having a single runner in the final four years ago, the Brits got gold and silver from Mo Farah and Chris Thompson. A story by Tom Fordyce describes the careers of the two men to this point, and revels in an accomplishment that very well may inspire a new generation of U.K. distance runners.

I haven't seen video of the race, but reports say that the British announcers went wild as the final lap unfolded. I wondered then about what's missing from the coverage of so many meets by U.S. television. Where are the great announcers -- the ones with a sense of history, the ones who give voice to the rising excitement of great races, whose words are not just the prepared remarks of non-fans who don't follow the sport or have memories for the great moments of the past? Watching old races on YouTube, you have to love the British announcers. Hell, even listening to the Finnish announcers calling Viren's victories in the '72 and '76 Olympics in Finnish beats anything I've ever heard from American commentators.

As happy as I am for Farah and Thompson and their British fans, I'm jealous. In the past few years, we have witnessed a renaissance for American middle and long-distance running, both men and women. How long do we have to stay the distance waiting for an announcer who can give voice to our greatest inspirations?