Sarah Herrington, the stellar 1500-meter specialist from the Twin Cities has transplanted to St. Louis in an attempt to change her luck. The winner of countless Invitational and Relays titles, the 5’11” track star is most famous for what she has not achieved, namely, a berth on the U.S. Olympic Team.
Chapter Two
SARAH HERRINGTON
Their love was simple and caring. They were both givers. Two people on a mission could ask for nothing better.
Bill met Sarah in a theatre lobby in Phoenix, a few hours after they had both raced at the Sun Angel Track Classic. Sarah, fumbling with her change and a cup of lemonade, fumbled her tub of popcorn as well.
“Oh, too bad!” he said, stooping to pick up the container. He noticed her well-worn training shoes. “Are you a runner?”
“Felt like a juggler there for a minute.” She introduced herself. “I’m Sarah Herr–“
“Sarah Herrington! Yes, of course! You won the 1500! I didn’t recognize you with clothes on.”
The stupidity of that comment hit him instantly. “I mean–“
Sarah was convulsing with giggles, spilling her drink.
“What’s your name?” she asked, erasing his embarrassment with her smile.
“Uhh . . . I’m Bill . . . Bill Szymczak . . . from St. Louis, 5,000 meters.”
“Let’s buy some more popcorn, Bill-from-St. Louis,” she said. “If you’re not with someone else, would you sit with me? I don’t know anyone else in town.”
They were on the same flight east the next morning. In three weeks, Sarah moved from Minneapolis to St. Louis to live with her new best friend.
* * * * *
“Sarah Herrington!” exclaimed the small, hollow-cheeked woman behind the cash register at the Missouri Bagel Company. “Are you in town for a race?”
“Oh, hi, Kelley,” said Sarah. She instantly recognized the face of one of her principal rivals.
“No, I’m not here to race. I live in St. Louis now. I’m sharing a place with Bill Szymczak. Do you know him?”
“Sim-Zack? Is he a runner?” asked Kelley Kirkland.
“Oh, yes, Bill is a runner. He’s ranked #12 in the five thousand. We have an apartment two miles from here.”
“You’re not planning to compete at the Trials again, are you?” It was not the first time Sarah had been asked that question. “I mean, do you still have the drive?”
“Yes,” Sarah answered with considerable restraint. “I will definitely give it another shot. Thanks for the bagels, Kelley. See you out there.”
The Heartbreak Kid. It was a moniker she despised, although the sports media could not seem to get enough of it.
Athletics Gazette–April 10
Sarah Herrington, the stellar 1500-meter specialist from the Twin Cities has transplanted to St. Louis in an attempt to change her luck. The winner of countless Invitational and Relays titles, the 5’11” track star is most famous for what she has not achieved, namely, a berth on the U.S. Olympic Team. Ranked among the top three in each of the past three Olympic cycles, Herrington has found three ways to finish in fourth place at the U.S. Olympic Trials. Now 31, Herrington is giving it another try. She will be 33 in fifteen months when the Trials are held next summer in Knoxville.
“My workouts are going good,” she reported by phone from her new training venue in Missouri. “My goal, as always, is to PR. If I get to the finish line faster, it always improves my chances of winning.”
Good luck to the Heartbreak Kid from Athletics Gazette.
* * * * *
Sarah ran every workout–slow or fast, on the track, roads, or golf course–haunted by memories of the Trials. Eugene. Sacramento. Gainesville. Fourth place three times. Bad luck? Bad tactics? Choke?
Three times she had been on or near the lead with 200 meters to run. Three times, women she had beaten many times before had found a way to edge past her at the tape and capture one of the three precious slots on the Olympic Team.
“I’m motivated by it, really,” she told Bill one night when he delicately broached the subject. “The way I see it, I can stop racing, skip the Trials, or keep doing what I love.”
“Your persistence has earned you the admiration of thousands of people, that’s for sure.” He smiled warmly, got up from his chair at the dinner table, walked around to her seat, and kissed her on the back of her head. “I’m one of them, Sarah. I want to help you make that team.”
“Look, Bill,” she replied, staring at their meal of black beans, brown rice, and cornbread. “My life doesn’t revolve around making the Olympic Team. It’s a compelling goal; don’t think I don’t want it. But I love to run. I love to train, to travel, to compete. But if I finish fourth again at the next Trials, it won’t be the end of the world.”
Sarah smiled, leaned back, kissed Bill on the cheek, and resumed eating.
Making the Olympic Team was not the most important thing in Sarah’s life. She kept it well-hidden with denials, but it was the only thing that mattered to her now.
________
7:30 a.m.–Landy course in 56:05
3:15 p.m.– 20 x 200 (31.3), 20 x 100
17 miles