Mark Nenow Then

This piece originally appeared in Track & Field News.  Mid-1986. 

Conversation from When Running Was Young and So We Were. – JDW

TOP ROADIE NENOW LIKES THE TRACK

At 5-8½, 130 pounds, Mark Nenow is smaller than Doug Flutie. At 27, Nenow might have had a better season than the college football superstar.
Nenow (pronounced Nee-no) doesn’t have a million-dollar contract but then there aren’t any 300 lb. men trying to push him through to the bottom of the earth either.

But Mr. Nenow put on his own kind of pressure on the earth and the men who raced on roads during 1984 and no American road racer compiled a record superior to his. Nenow is the top-ranked road runner of 1984.
Like Flutie, Nenow received only one offer of an athletic grant after he graduated in 1976 from Anoka High, in a Minneapolis suburb. He headed for Kentucky to begin just his second year of running.
“I didn’t have many options,” Nenow explains. “I didn’t start running until my senior year of high school, so I didn’t have any track times to impress the recruiters.”

He ran 4:17 and 9:20 in his first year and won the state cross-country title. His late start in running came because he had been a wrestler for the previous four years.
“God, I hated wrestling,” he confesses. “It’s a grueling sport and I just wanted to be involved in sports. So it was a real kick to shift to another activity and be successful.”

Nenow’s collegiate career was only moderately successful. “My first couple of years were nasty,” he says. “In the SEC 10k my frosh year, I must have been lapped at least three times.”

His best collegiate season was 1980 – his junior year – when he ran 28:32.7 and placed 7th in the NCAA 10,000. “I always felt my college career was so sketchy because I was still learning about running,” he explains. “I didn’t have the same high school background everybody else had.”
Nenow picked up his accounting degree in 1980 and an MBA in 1982. He then became a graduate student of running.

“Getting out of college was the best thing that ever happened to me,” he confides. “I run alone; I don’t have a coach or an advisor. I just started doing my own thing.”

His training emphasizes mileage, perhaps 15M daily. He covers ten miles at 2 or 3 in the afternoon, then another five miles at 10 or 11 p.m. “I never time myself, but the runs might be pretty quick,” he points out. “I don’t get caught up with training PRs and I don’t do much track work. I feel I get sharp really quick with just a race or two.”

At times, it seems Nenow competes only in a race or two. “In ’83 I ran four road races; that’s all I wanted to run. People assume you have a lot of down time if you don’t race, but I just feel more comfortable not racing as much.”
In ’84, Nenow raced more – even if as a last-minute entry at Crescent City, where the wind helped propel him to the road 10k World Record. Yet that performance doesn’t mean as much to Nenow as you might think.

“I know this is supposed to be a road article,” he apologizes, “but I really love the track. I’d rather set a U.S. track record than a road WR. The bottom line in road racing is to win, but on the track, I don’t care where I place as long as I run a great time.”
Nenow led the U.S. in ’84 at both 5000m and 10,000m around the oval (13:18.54/27:40.56). I was only 5th in that Oslo 5000, but I felt as excited about that as about any race I’ve ever run. My old PR was 13:33. That’s fun!”
But ’84 wasn’t all fun. He placed only 15th at Falmouth: “I ran terribly. I was sick with a fever, but when I stink it up, I don’t mind saying so.” And he was just 11th in the Olympic Trials 10,000. “I don’t know what happened, but I know I didn’t peak at Crescent City. I planned to run a good heat at the Trials and then go fast in the final. Guess I was wrong.”

This year, Nenow says he wants to run well in road races like Continental Homes and Crescent City, but also in the TAC 10,000. “I want to run the World Cup. I’d also like to run in races in Europe that have fast guys in them,” he says.
Then what? “Then I’ll come home and train for a marathon in the fall. People say I should be able to run a good marathon. I guess I’ll find out.”
We all will. But Nenow prefers the oval, remember. Some roadie! Too bad they don’t run the marathon on the track.

A Conversation With Mark Nenow
Mark Nenow does not like to be called a loner. He belongs to the Todds Road Stumblers, a group of over 1,200 members. “A pretty big outfit, pretty organized,” Nenow says from his Lexington, Kentucky home. “We’ve even got a little clubhouse out in the country.”

But at age 28, Mark Nenow is clearly a man apart. He’s an individualist. A man who doesn’t like to talk about his running. Nenow somehow manages to be closemouthed and outspoken at the same time. His fame is a garment, in no way really him; just something he wears as a gift for efforts and success that came to him slowly, reluctantly, after years of hard work. He is often alone, but he is not a loner.
“In individual sports, in running, there’s no one to blame but yourself,” he explains. “Likewise, when you’re successful, the gratification is all yours, ’cause you went it alone. The bottom line… when the guns go off, it’s really just you out there.”
No, Nenow is not a loner. He is special. Check your watch. Look at it again in 27 minutes and 20 seconds. Mark Nenow can run ten kilometers in that time. Think about it.
JDW: Last month you said, and I quote: “Obviously, an American Record on the track is within my grasp at 10,000 meters. Whether I’ll ever hold it or not is a whole other question. But that would really be great for me if I could be an American Record holder on the track.” Well, you’ve got your AR. How does it feel?
MN: It feels like I’ve finally accomplished something. I feel like I’ve really done it. I’ve earned a credential at last that makes me happy.
JDW: You’ve owned a 10k road World Record for some time now.
MN: A World Record on the road just doesn’t compare to the American Record on the track. I was always proud of that road WR. I still am. Don’t get me wrong. But, you know how you are introduced, “This is so-and-so. He’s done this.” Well, they usually only mention one thing you’ve done. They normally name just a single credential.
Well, when people have mentioned my accomplishments, they’d almost always refer to the 10k road WR. I’d often cringe. I’d wish there was something more. Now, there is.
JDW: What makes the track so special for you?
MN: The track separates the men from the boys. It’s universally comparable. How do you compare Crescent City to Continental Homes? You can’t, not really. A 10k on the track is the same in Brussels or Oslo or Mt. Sac. The track… there’s a sense that it is the pinnacle of my sport. It’s running at its best.
JDW: And now, you are one of the best. Here’s a Barbara Wawa question: Are you a star? Do you put people in the seats?
MN: [Chuckles] I certainly don’t think of myself as a ‘star.’ I don’t think other people do, either. I do think I am respected. I’ve been at or near the top of the 10k lists for the last few years. Meet directors, especially in Europe, realize that I’ll run a fast race for them.

JDW: Let’s talk about Brussels.
MN: Let’s! Gosh, it was great! [Pauses.] It was a strange race. The rabbit, or rabbits, just weren’t doing the job. They weren’t doing much pacemaking. I think I had to do more work than the rabbits in the first half of the race. I had to spend the first 12 laps being more concerned about the pace than just trying to run hard. I probably led three laps myself.
JDW: Sounds pretty tough.
MN: It wasn’t really easy. I started to realize that if I wanted to run fast I was going to have to do it by myself. I gave up on the others after actually telling the rabbit – at least three times – to go faster. Once I took off, I felt a lot better.
JDW: Do you remember your splits?
MN: We went out in 13:47, and came back in 13:33. I wanted 13:40. I’m convinced, if I’d sat back, they’d have brought me through in 13:55.
JDW: That won’t get the job done.
MN: No, it won’t. If they want a fast time… if meet directors want a World Record or even an American Record, they’ve got to set up a fast pace. You just can’t go out in 13:50 and expect to get back in 13:10. But, where do you get a rabbit who can run 13:30 even on his bad day? That sounds like you need a runner who can do 13:10. And you’re not going to get somebody to do that. Someone like that will want to run a real race, maybe the 5k.
JDW: Was the race set up specifically for you?
MN: No, I don’t think so. It wasn’t a packed field. [John] Treacy was there, a couple others. But it wasn’t deep. The real key was that I had just planned to run well at Brussels.
JDW: Now, that’s an insight. I didn’t know Mark Nenow planned.
MN: C’mon, Jack. I plan. My races, at least.
JDW: So, let’s talk about your training. It’s 10 p.m. and you’re just going out for your second run of the day. Pretty unusual plan. Why so late?
MN: I always run at night. 11 p.m. or so. Our college coach used to tell us to run extra miles at night occasionally. I got used to it. I enjoy it. I’m a night person.
JDW: How far do you run in the dark?
MN: There are street lights. I run about 6-7 miles.

JDW: When do you run your morning workouts?
MN: Well, um, 2 or 3 in the afternoon.
JDW: Right. [Pause] What kind of mileage are you doing?
MN: The same as always. About 100 miles a week. In the fall I usually do less. Try to give it a rest.

JDW: Mark, we better talk about this a little more, or we’re gonna half the joggers in the U.S. and most of the high school kids running off cliffs in the middle of the night, getting chased by cops or muggers or both.
What’s your secret? Are you still staying off the track? I can’t believe you can run 27:20 off 100 miles of nocturnal jogging.
MN: I had been off the track until I came home on break from the European circuit. And I did run 27:28 at Oslo off my usual training.
JDW: And then?
MN: I met an English coach over there. A guy named Alan Storey. He suggested I add some light track work to my usual program. So that’s what I did for five weeks before Brussels.

JDW: I thought you didn’t think much of coaches.
MN: I admit I haven’t been a big fan of coaching, at least not for myself. Only coaching I ever had was in college, and my college career was sketchy at best. The moment I left college, as soon as I was on my own, I excelled.
I believe you need to work one-on-one with a coach. He has to really know you. You have to be together. I’ve just not been willing to relocate to get coaching. I’m really comfortable in Lexington.
JDW: What did Storey have you doing?
MN: Intervals. The classic stuff. Nothing fancy. 4:40-ish. He was real careful. He wanted to alter my training, but he didn’t want me to push it. He didn’t want me to come up lame.

JDW: And that’s your secret?
MN: I ran 27:28 on “nothing.” When you toss on top of that some sprint drills, some repeat miles, maybe that is the difference. But I was really strong. Rome wasn’t built in a day. Four weeks of track doesn’t automatically get you 27:20.
JDW: “Nothing” doesn’t get you 27:28. How were you training? How fast is your mileage?
MN: I don’t really know. I really don’t know the pace. I run how I feel. I just scatterbrain run around town. I never plot my week out. If I feel good on, say, Tuesday, then I run hard. If I’m feeling sluggish, I take it easy. I listen to my body.
I run alone always. There’s a couple of reasons for that. First of all, there’s no one around here to train with. And, secondly, I don’t like to run faster than I want to run, and I don’t like to run slower than I want.

JDW: I can remember at least once seeing you run slower than you wanted to. How about your 11th-place finish in the ’84 Olympic Trials? You ever look back at that?
MN: Look back at that? And laugh, you mean?
JDW: In a word, how do you feel about that race?
MN: The word isn’t sadness. In a word, I was embarrassed. I wasn’t down. I wasn’t mad. I was just embarrassed.
JDW: How do you feel now?
MN: You try to learn from your mistakes. I’m sure I’ll benefit in the long run from that ’84 experience.
JDW: No pun intended, right? What did you learn?
MN: I went into the ’84 Trials without having run a single race in months. I thought I could make the team, I thought I could race well without having had any competition. I must have been a bit of a fool.

And I think I felt a lot of pressure from my friends, my family, my town, the local press. I got a lot more attention than usual. Everybody’s hopes were up. I think a lot of people were counting on me. That all began to get to me.
I’ll be able to deal with the pressure better next time. I realize now the world doesn’t revolve around someone making the Olympic team.

JDW: You once told me you would run a marathon in the fall of ’85. What happened?
MN: Jack, I lied. That’s what I did – I lied. The marathon is like a big, smiling face with a hand stretched out to you. It seems friendly. There’s so much glamour, so much hype, [chuckles] so much money. But… I have this feeling the marathon is the devil of disguise. There’s an element of destruction in the marathon.
I don’t want to mention any names, but you see guys running marathons… and, well, they’re just never the same again. The marathon scares me.
JDW: I could mention some names.
MN: Don’t. Actually, until recently, I’ve been thinking about the marathon. A month ago I thought I might do one this fall. I was about 50-50 on it. But, after Brussels, I’m content to set it aside again. Brussels reminded what I’m in track for.
JDW: And what’s that?
MN: To go faster. To be the best I can be.

Epilogue.  If you wonder what a guy like that might make of his professional life…