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I'm a novelist and so I have had far more than my share of encounters with people whose attitude toward the vocation I've devoted my adult life to is "I can do that too!" So while I sympathize with McClelland, I wonder whether it's Oprah and the rest of the five-hour runners who are ruining things or if it's the fault of a sport not organized enough or quick enough on its feet (so to speak) to adapt itself to accommodate this boom in popularity. The novelist-wannabes have creative writing workshops, and tiny little magazines in whose pages they can flatter themselves that they're being published, and, of course, the internet (sorry, bloggers!), and so the real writers can go about their business undisturbed. Why not a similar division for "serious" runners?
But, gee, I also have to say, McClelland's description of pushing himself past pain and into the puke zone, no doubt doing further damage to his already ground-down joints, sounds precisely like the sort of pathological behavior that passes for being "game" (sorry, jocks!). In light of McClelland's implicit desire for a distance-runner's paradise populated by masochists collapsing, vomiting, and going into convulsions, I think the Oprahs are kind of, well, healthier.