 By Dave Holmes
When you ask the greatest marathoner of all time what he’d be doing with his life if he’d never picked up running, you’re going to get a quizzical look. When I pose the question, Eliud Kipchoge’s brow furrows a bit and stays furrowed. Not angry, not annoyed, more like I’d just started speaking Esperanto.
It’s the end of a Monday at his training camp in Kaptagat, Kenya, where he arrived this morning after spending most of the weekend with his wife, Grace Sugut, and their three children at home 20 miles away, and where he’ll stay until he goes back on Saturday, as he does each week. The work of Monday is done (a long-ish run in the morning and an easy hour in the afternoon), and dinner awaits.
So far in our talk, Kipchoge has been affable and polite. In conversation, as on the course, he presents himself as the epitome of clean living, clean training, and clean thinking. He is a devout Catholic. He’s had the same coach—1992 Olympic steeplechase silver medalist Patrick Sang—for more than 20 years. He eats well, runs hard, reads those inspirational books you see in airport bookstores (his all-time favorite: the motivational fable Who Moved My Cheese?). If not for the wife and kids, we’d call him monastic. His answers rarely stray far from the subjects of a positive mindset and dedication to peak performance, and when they do, like a patient coach, he leads them gently back. But right now, Kipchoge is not unaffable or impolite, he’s just…still. And I feel like I’ve offended him. |
By Dave Holmes
When you ask the greatest marathoner of all time what he’d be doing with his life if he’d never picked up running, you’re going to get a quizzical look. When I pose the question, Eliud Kipchoge’s brow furrows a bit and stays furrowed. Not angry, not annoyed, more like I’d just started speaking Esperanto.
It’s the end of a Monday at his training camp in Kaptagat, Kenya, where he arrived this morning after spending most of the weekend with his wife, Grace Sugut, and their three children at home 20 miles away, and where he’ll stay until he goes back on Saturday, as he does each week. The work of Monday is done (a long-ish run in the morning and an easy hour in the afternoon), and dinner awaits.
So far in our talk, Kipchoge has been affable and polite. In conversation, as on the course, he presents himself as the epitome of clean living, clean training, and clean thinking. He is a devout Catholic. He’s had the same coach—1992 Olympic steeplechase silver medalist Patrick Sang—for more than 20 years. He eats well, runs hard, reads those inspirational books you see in airport bookstores (his all-time favorite: the motivational fable Who Moved My Cheese?). If not for the wife and kids, we’d call him monastic. His answers rarely stray far from the subjects of a positive mindset and dedication to peak performance, and when they do, like a patient coach, he leads them gently back. But right now, Kipchoge is not unaffable or impolite, he’s just…still. And I feel like I’ve offended him. |
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| Meb Keflezighi delivered a touching dedication at the finish line. |
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| Will it be a great day to run, or as bad as 2018? (Plus, historical looks at the crazy weather in Boston.) |
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| Kipchoge’s teammate Augustine Choge talks workouts, mindset, and more. |
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| Kipchoge sat down with Runner’s World, sharing how he maintains his unwavering confidence. |
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| Morgan Beadlescomb of the U.S. and Mekides Abebe of Ethiopia take the titles. |
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