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MILE BY MILE: 4

As the first 5k ticks into the fourth mile, the first true morning tailgaters welcome us to Ashland. I am starting to settle into the race. The early race nerves have worn off, and despite what the splits say is a fast start for me, I actually feel like I’ve eased into it.

Of course, there’s still a long ways to go (if only the race still started in Ashland) but so far so good. I do a quick body scan -- stride is smooth, arms and shoulders relaxed, posture upright, breathing under control -- and things may actually be looking up. In fact, when I do look up I can see the lead pack within striking distance. It only takes a few (perhaps over-exuberant) strides for me to make contact and officially join the leaders.

Now I am finally in the race. Except, by the looks of it, we’re not truly racing yet; we’re simply out for a Monday morning stroll. The spectators on the side of the road have the right attitude: they may be cheering politely, but there’s no need to whip up a frenzy just yet. Still plenty of race left to run. No, might as well fire up the grill, toss a baseball, and crack open a beer. There’s nothing quite like day drinking on a holiday, especially when the sun is out and it is a warm spring morning. Great for the crowd, not so much for the marathoners.

For a mega-race like this one, what’s amazing is how quiet everything is. The excitement of the start quickly faded, and all that’s left is a small core of competitors -- just like every other road race. Of course, it’s also quiet because of how easy everyone else is running. I mean, it’s like the leaders aren’t even trying yet. They shouldn’t be; it’d be foolish to push this early. And without pacers to string the field along, each individual is faced with a prisoner’s dilemma: if you run hard from the gun, you might hit a fast time, but you’ll pull everyone else with you and, having done all the work, get passed by many of them. Ryan Hall famously did this in 2011 when he ran an absurd sub-2:05, only to finish fourth. On the other hand, if you bide your time and wait for someone else to make the move, then you’ll most likely sacrifice a fast time but keep alive the possibility of a better place. So which one will it be, time or place?

Today, it looks like we’re going with the latter.

I’m actually cruising good enough to take some time to look around at my company. Hey, now that I’m in the lead pack I don’t have to simply stare at the back of jerseys. In an Olympic year like this one, the depth of competition may be a little limited, but there are so many good African runners that you could probably pull ten random guys off the street of Iten and turn at least seven of them into champion marathoners. By the looks of it, those seven have joined us today. It looks like four Kenyans and three Ethiopians, but then what do I know? I’m new to the road scene, so I don’t have any idea who these people are. I know the stars of the sport, and I know they’re not here. Probably either at London or preparing for the Games. But sometimes -- usually -- it’s the anonymous Africans you have to worry about the most. They have the least to lose and the most to gain. Off towards the double-yellow line, a trio of the Kenyans talk curtly between breaths. They just look so damn smooth, like they’re gliding over the ground instead of running on it. It’s a lot of intimidation packed into 110 pounds.

Riding the side of the road are a pair of Japanese runners. Road racing and marathoning is huge over there -- like, bigger than the Super Bowl huge -- so Japan always has contenders at the major marathons. But while the Kenyans and Ethiopians have raised the bar in terms of competition, the Japanese have remained stagnant. Well, stagnant may not be the right term; consistent, let’s say. It’s hard to call a plethora of sub-2:10 performers “stagnant.” And consistency is a better way to characterize Japanese marathoners, both as a group and individuals. They run with more power and determination than the lithe African athletes, as if they’ve made themselves fast through sheer force of will. Hell, they probably have. Even this early in the race, you can see every ounce of concentration and effort in their expression, which will only deteriorate into sheer agony as the race progresses. Again, because of my inexperience and the isolated nature of the island nation, I don’t know who these guys are, but, like the Africans, I remain struck by their diminutive stature.

Which leaves us with only the Americans left, four including myself. In classic form, we’re probably all a little over-eager at the premier race on home soil. So much so, that a pair runs two abreast to lead the pack, soaking in every bit of good cheer from the steadily growing crowd. We seem to tower over the rest of the leaders, even though at less than six feet tall and 130 pounds, we’re all swallowed up in regular street clothes. There are a lot of very good marathoners in the states, but few truly great ones. This year, the truly great ones have a much more important race to train for. I don’t recognize two of my countrymen, but I’m pretty sure one of the leaders is Rod Kelley, running with sunglasses, a white singlet and white compression socks. Today is sunny and already starting to heat up, so white is definitely a smart decision. He was fifth at last fall’s Olympic Trials race, which is only the second-worst spot to finish. The worst is fourth: you’re the alternate, which means the US Olympic Committee will put you through all of the processing for the Games except for one key detail: they don’t book your flight to the host city. Thanks for playing, enjoy watching the race from home! Kelley’s one of those athletes who has always been close to being great, but has never quite knocked it out. But he’s whippet thin and looks fit as fuck today. Me? I’m content to hang at the back of the pack and try to cruise as long as possible.

I can’t help but be a little amazed to be in the company of professional runners. Forgive me for thinking that today’s going to be a good day.

And it's no wonder I feel so good right now: we just ran the slowest split of the day, 5:07. 20:11 total elapsed time and I’m in 13th place.

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