The highlight of the 10-day tour — which also included the Berlin Marathon — was this chance for a rare look at Viren, one of the all-time greats of running. As is true for Bill Rodgers or Frank Shorter, Viren's first name is enough to identify him; say "Lasse" in Finland and everyone knows whom you're talking about. Myrskylä, Myrskylä — the town is one of the most mysterious in running lore. For years I'd heard about it as some kind of far-off sorcerer's realm in Finland, and now we were on our way there.
Some of us were a bit intimidated at the thought of meeting Viren, who has a reputation of being somewhat of a loner. We weren't alone in our feelings. Bill Rodgers, in his book Marathoning, writes, "I have beaten Viren several times since he won gold medals for the second time in the 5,000 and 10,000, but I still hold him in awe. I feel apprehensive about going near him. Is this man for real? He's a superman, almost. Yet he doesn't act that way at all."
The group took a bus to Myrskylä, complete with a video showing some of Viren's four Olympic victories. We passed tidy farms and endless miles of dirt and gravel trails through the pine and birch forests. The starting area for the race was a large field next to the clubhouse, or Kiparkatti, of Myrskylän Myrsky [Stormville Stormers], the running club Viren has belonged to since he was a teenager. Viren traveled around the world many times, but he always returned to Myrskylä, and you can see why. He is well known there, and there is a real sense of community in the town.
We stand amidst the Finnish runners, stretching and talking, when, all at once, there he is, Lasse Viren, looking much like he did in his glorious Olympic victories: long-legged, gaunt, lean, sporting a beard. He's wearing sweats, walking around talking to runners, making last-minute arrangements.
He comes over to the group and asks me, "Which are you running, the 10- or 20K?"
"Neither. I didn't bring my shoes."
"You didn't come all this way to watch!" bellows Eino, a well-known sculptor who was Viren's manager in the U.S. for many years. "What size shoe do you wear?"
"Ten."
"Hey, Lasse. Do you have any extra shoes?" Viren rummages around in the back of his late-model Peugeot and pulls out a pair of pale-blue Asics. I sit down and pull on the shoes. They are a little
