"What Mad Pursuit
Short Stories About Runners"
by Rich Elliot
a book review by George Brose
Available on Amazon
We do not have to look far to find books on running. Most fall into the non-fiction category answering questions and purveying truths about how to start running, nutrition, injury prevention, training methodology, histories of running, the Olympics and on and on. But few writers attempt and even fewer succeed in writing readable fiction with running at the focal point. As experienced and dedicated runners and former runners, we know everything there is to know about the act of running, of coaching, and even of parenting a runner. We live(d) it daily. If we read riveting fiction about murder, very few of us may have lived it. Very few of us may have experienced war and other forms of mayhem. So we rely on fiction and non-fiction writers to explain those things of which we are so ignorant. But once we become runners, a thing so mundane, so easy to learn by simply doing, we become quite knowledgeable from our experience. If we progress up the running hierarchy we learn things few other runners will ever know. We understand what it is like to run twenty miles in the heat or the cold, to run a set of 20x440's with a 110 jog after each, to try to win a place on a team, to compete for an athletic scholarship, to improve, to crash, to spar mentally with other runners, to find or lose love in the sport, to know the heroes, the saints and the ne'er do wells. So if a writer takes up the challenge to tell us stories about competitive running, that writer better damn well know his or her subject or prepare to be called out very quickly.
Rich Elliott is a writer willing to take that risk. Anyone who survived four years at Kansas under the legendary Bob Timmons is a guy who could walk into Hell and casually look around for some sunscreen. Mr. Elliott is able to tell those stories we all know in a way that can shed light and truth on things we did in our youth and often didn't realize we were doing them.
You will meet a crazy coach who dabbles in Russian roulette with a nail gun when his team is having an off season. You will meet a fictional walk-on who runs with Pre at Oregon. You will fight with a teammate for the affections of a girl by running a duel of repeat charges up a sand dune. You will live with a group of societal rejects who find their way on the cross country field. You will run with a ten-year-old girl in a trans-America race. You will learn that even the best runners struggle with self doubt. There are 17 stories in "What Mad Pursuit". Each one can stand on its own. Some have been previously published in literary journals. It's not my gift to critique writing style. I just know what I like. Rich Elliott is a master storyteller whose work will have you saying to yourself, "My God, I've been there."
Here are excerpts from three stories:
From Cross Country at the School for Troubled Teens
"You know what I think, men?" Coach leaned against the bridge railing and stretched. " I think we were born out of our time. I think we were meant to live two hundred years ago. Out on some Open Plain. Sleeping on the ground with our horses and dogs. Heading up our tribe, protecting our People. Leading them into battle."
We squinted at Coach and stretched like him.
"Out of our time. We weren't meant to be crammed into a school chair. Not meant to be cooped up in a beige bedroom, stoned by a computer screen, turning into some species of marshmallow. Our Age doesn't know what to do with us, doesn't know what to make of us. That's what I think."
We began to run again, still in the opposite direction from school. It got dark. Over his shoulder Coach threw us a quote from the Book. "It is the illusion we can go no further that holds us back."
From the Diary of Kid Comet
There's nothing like running at night. You're floating along in front of your dad's headlights in a cocoon of light smack in the middle of the black universe. You hear the tap-tap of your flats on the road and the huh-huh-huh of your breaths. Other than that, it's real quiet, except for the skittering of things off the road.
You're just coasting along, feeling the cool night, it seems to breathe along with you, the little puffs in your face. Times like this you feel you own the world and can run forever without a thought.
Finally, you realize the black is changing a little and maybe you can make out silhouettes of things, trees and bushes, the strip of road going out, and sure enough in a few minutes in the east the black gives way to gray, and with that an orchestra starts warming up, just for me alone, first the wuh-ee-weeet of the blackbirds, then the twee-twee of the robins, then the chee-chee of the wrens, until pretty soon the full orchestra floods the road with music.
Dad turns off the headlights. The gray in the east turns to light pink and then brighter pink, and my heart feels nice, and I'm thinking, twenty miles done, and the day's just beginning, and gosh, breakfast is going to taste great.
From Walk-on
Stubbornness is my only talent.
That's what kept me on the team, hanging on by my fingertips. I buried my chin in my chest, and I stuck. through twenty-mile road runs at soul-killing pace. Through violent quarters on the track. Through endless repeats of Cardiac Hill. through blistered feet, bloody urine, leg spasms, and ice baths.
Through predawn hours waiting for my alarm to shout, Get your sorry ass into the dark for your morning run!
Through the countless privations of monk-like existence. (That incredulous look on my date's face---What? You have to go to sleep? It's only nine o'clock!)
Through the annoyed looks from teammates, looks that said, Why is he still here? He's not in our league. And even through Coach's ongoing sarcasm--"Basner, goddammit, I'll have to buy a sundial to time you!"
I raced in the few home meets we had, but I never once made our travel squad. Why would you spend money on someone who couldn't place in any event?
Sure, I improved, but my teammates, already way ahead, improved more. One thing was clear: I would never have their artistic, flawless strides. I would never, ever have their immaculate engines. The scholarship guys purred along like Porsches, while I rattled like a used Corvair.
Rich Elliott's other books are Duck and Cover, Runners on Running, and The Competitive Edge-Mental Preparation for Distance Running
Rich Elliott's running credentials include being Big 8 Conference three miles champ, a 4:09 mile, 13:44 three miles, 29:44 six miles, and a 440 in 51 or 52 (he can't really confirm that 440).
George Brose
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