BELL LAP #36

UNSOLICITED ADVICE FOR ALAN WEBB (February 7, 2001)

When Alan Webb ran 3:59.86 to become the first high school runner in over 30 years to dip below four minutes in the mile, no one asked me to comment. Maybe because my best high school mile was 4:28.

I ran that 4:28, by the way, the same spring that Jim Ryun ran 3:55.3. He made sub-4:00 look pretty easy, as did Tim Danielson the next year and Mary Liquori the year after that. Clearly, high school kids breaking four minutes was about to become as common as navel lint. I believed that then.

Though the mile wasn't my main event, by my senior year in college I was in fabulous shape, and convinced that it couldn't be that difficult. A handful of opportunities, I thought, would notch me a sub-4:00. Sadly, the best I could manage was 4:03.2. After graduation, another batch of attempts still brought me up short. 4:01.9, that was it. The effort left me with a visceral respect for four minutes, and enormous admiration for Webb's recent achievement.

While no one has beaten a path to my door for comments, I do get to write this column, so here's some advice from a 4:28 high school miler: Ignore the fans, the media, and everyone else who thinks you ought to be able to blaze a lightning fast mile on demand. Create a psychological distance between your performances and their expectations. Run for yourself.

When I made the Olympic team in 1976, an automatic fame fell on my shoulders. I found myself deluged with well-wishes and go-get-ems. These were meant to speed me on my path, but after a while they seemed more like lead.

About that time, I read this quote in Frank Herbert's science fiction novel "Dune":

"Greatness is a transitory experience. It is never consistent. It depends in part upon the myth-making imagination of human-kind. The person who experiences greatness must have a feeling for the myth he is in. He must have a strong sense of the sardonic...The sardonic is all that permits him to move within himself. Without this quality, even occasional greatness will destroy a man."

For me, that quote represented the essence of athletic success. "Sardonic" may be a bit harsh, but substitute wry emotional distance for the bitterness inherent in a sarcastic attitude and it works pretty well. Keep a sense of humor and perspective about yourself, your recent hard-earned achievements, and the people who want more. You're the hero we needed to break a 30-year stalemate, so please understand our enthusiasm, our attention, our demands. Give us a good-natured smile. And then...dismiss us. We don't count.

If you look down the list of the all-time top high school milers, indoor and out, you'll see names you recognize, runners who went on to become international stars. And some who didn't. Perhaps greatness destroyed a few. Maybe there's a risk in reaching too high, too early. On the other hand, since much of the last 30 years is a failed experiment in moderation, congratulations on embracing commitment, passion and high goals. We're eager to see where it leads.

Just remember that your career, any career, will be filled with potholes, plateaus, setbacks, lulls. Things the public doesn't tolerate very well. You're working with a coach who seems to know this, someone willing to urge you off the merry-go-round when the thing starts wobbling. Hold that thought in the years ahead.

You've broken new ground and, it appears, helped usher in a resurgent era for U.S. distance running. Enjoy it. You deserve a long, distinguished career.

Enjoy it even though it will be filled with people eager to offer you unsolicited advice. Some of whom, believe it or not, won't even have a single sub-4:00 on their resumes.