A couple of weeks ago, an unfortunate fate seemed sealed. One day after completing the Baltimore half-marathon in 1 hour, 46 minutes, my left knee swelled up to the point of severe discomfort. Walking was a struggle. Descending a flight of stairs created piercing pangs of pain. I guessed a damaged knee meniscus or ligament would negate my debut in the ING New York City Marathon this Sunday.

The next day I conducted a phone interview with marathoner Grete Waitz, who won the New York race an unprecedented nine times, for a feature story I recently wrote about her. Among other things, she reflected fondly on her 1992 New York City Marathon run with Fred Lebow, the founder and former director of the race. Lebow was suffering from brain cancer and completed the 26.2 miles in five and a half hours with Waitz at his side the entire time.

After I hung up the phone, with a still-stifled and now more swollen knee but an inspired spirit, I decided there was no way I would not complete the race. A six-hour marathon — even if I walked much of it — would suffice considering the conditions.

Good physical fortunes now surround me just days before the start of the race. Exams determined the injury as a strain of the medial collateral ligament on the inside of the knee. No surgery would be needed. And late last week my orthopedic specialist cleared me to run in New York. He said I should expect some pain, but likely not enough to prevent me from finishing.

As a result, an interesting feeling has developed. I have been forced to cross train since the injury on a bicycle, a recumbent bike, an elliptical trainer and in the swimming pool. My rested body feels the best it’s been since I accelerated my training for the race in late June and my run-weary mind feels refreshed.

Chronic knee pain aggravated from running in the recent Boston Marathon and caused by misaligned kneecaps and imbalanced quadriceps muscles has subsided. Earlier this week I was able to walk down the stairs for the first time since August without holding onto the hand rail.

My only real concern is reduced running fitness. However, I’m counting on the completion of two half-marathons and a 20K in competition and runs of 15, 17 and 20 miles, the latter more comfortable than expected.

Energized, I’ve been thinking again about time goals. I finished Boston, my first marathon, last April in 4:39. My goal was to finish the race in less than 4:30, but I was slowed more than I expected by taking pictures and talking with people for my blog and a crippling left thigh cramp that stabbed me at about 21 miles and forced me to walk and run the last five miles.

Before the recent knee injury, I felt fit enough to complete the New York race in less than four hours. Now, I’ve decided that 4:30 would suffice, even with the planned blog-stops.

And if I run five hours? So be it. If it takes me six hours? I’ll accept that, with some disappointment.

Two other Universal Sports employees will also be running in New York. Carlos, our president and chief operating officer, will try to improve on his 3:43 effort in the recent Boston Marathon. Running past Boston College at mile 20 in Boston certainly gave Carlos a lift. He was a top collegiate tennis player at the school in the mid 1980s. Don’t be surprised if Carlos breaks 3:20 in New York with no personal collegiate connection providing incentive.

Jen C., our vice president of product and production, will attempt her first marathon. Jen’s competed in a few triathlons and some half-marathons. Her goals are less grand than Carlos. Jen plans to run the entire race with no set time goal, but says if she makes it to 20 without walking, she’ll be happy.

Dave Obelkevich, who is planning on running the New York City Marathon for the 32nd time Sunday, said in a New York Times story this week about growing crowds in marathons that to keep his string going he would even try to complete the race on a broken leg with crutches.

I understand Obelkevich’s motivation. When given a chance to run in such a race, one would foolish to not attempt it unless there is a risk of permanent damage.

Lebow took a risk in 1992 despite at least one doctor’s instructions not to do so. He and Waitz ended up providing some of the most dramatic emotional moments in race history.

Emotional moments abound in the New York City Marathon. I hope that my perspective in the middle of the pack will allow me to profoundly capture some of those moments with pictures and words that will fill my post-race blog.

Look for me in my sky blue Universal Sports shirt, number 43488. I’d love to hear your story.

Whether you’re running or planning to watch, enjoy the spectacle.

– Dave Ungrady, Sr. Editor

This week Universal Sports begins its Marathon Madness coverage of the fall races that comprise the Marathon Majors series. Stories will showcase the Berlin Marathon on Sept. 28, the Chicago Marathon on Oct.12 and the New York City Marathon on Nov. 2.

The coverage will mirror the content we presented last April for the London and Boston marathons. It will include profiles on top runners, human-interest features on other prominent runners, stories that lie deep within the personalities of the races, and updates on the Marathon Major standings that will determine the $500,000 first-place winners for men and women through the New York race.

Many non-elite runners who will be attempting the marathon for the first time in Berlin, Chicago and New York will be able to relate to an exclusive diary written for Universal Sports by Brandi Chastain, the former U.S. women’s soccer player known for converting the final penalty kick that clinched the 1999 FIFA World Cup title for the Americans and the provocative shirt waving celebration that followed.

Chastain is training for her first marathon at New York City. If preliminary phone calls and emails with Brandi are an indication, expect to read about the anxieties and apprehensions she feels as a rookie 26.2-mile runner.

We broadcast our first live marathon at London in 2007 and have since attracted a strong built in audience for races in Boston, London, Berlin, Chicago and New York that have followed. And we expect that interest to only increase. Since marathon running went mainstream in the 1970s, the sport has seen only a minor decrease in interest in the early 1990s. With the infusion since then of charity runners, top marathons now attract at minimum 20,000 runners. Prize money has increased dramatically for the elite racers. Winners of the New York City Marathon will take home about $150,000.

Collectively, the three Marathon Major races this fall will attract close to 130,000 starters. The close-to 40,000 starters in he New York City Marathon will include a team from Universal Sports. I’ll provide an update later on how our training develops.

If you will not be running in one of the races, tune into our broadcasts on UniversalSports.com and Universal Sports TV.

We hope you will enjoy the events.

With manager Davey Johnson’s announcement of the U.S. Olympic baseball roster this week, it’s worth noting the glaring lack of Major League talent making the trip to Beijing with him. A number of players not even on Major League rosters had their ticket vetoed by management because of the desire to have the young players used as late season call-ups or the fear of injury. Major League Baseball’s refusal to allow its players to compete in the games has not only led to a sub-par national team but the sport’s elimination from the Olympics altogether.

Can we blame them? Not really. These players are worth millions in revenue, and to interrupt the Major League season to allow them to play a three-week tournament halfway around the world would only complicate matters even more. Baseball is not like hockey. As ridiculous as it is to have the NHL playoffs in June, it would be more so to have the World Series during Thanksgiving. At least with hockey (played indoors) you can pretend it’s the right season, and you’re not fighting with mid-season NFL for ratings.

Now, it’s not like the team doesn’t have talent — far from it. Minor league players like outfielder Matt LaPorta (Cleveland Indians) and pitcher Brett Anderson (Oakland Athletics) are primed to be stars at the next level, but they still remain unproven.

Team USA is not the only country hurt by this rule either. The best Latin and Asian players also compete in the Major Leagues, and therefore, will not be in China this August. But the majority of countries the United States will be facing in Beijing have their own professional leagues, and guess what; they do allow their players to participate in the summer games. If this was a true amateur competition the U.S. would probably be a real gold-medal contender. The IOC changed that rule in 2000.

Many people forget that despite creating the sport in the 1800s, the United States has only taken home an Olympic medal twice; a bronze in 1992, and gold in 2000. They did win place second in 1984, and first in 1988. However, baseball was still an exhibition sport.

If Team USA does win gold in Beijing — and remember they didn’t even qualify for the 2004 games — it will be a great accomplishment; possibly greater than the U.S men’s basketball team reaching the podium in 2008, and right up there with another amateur team that faced foreign professionals, the 1980 U.S. hockey team.

Will the sport remain in the Olympics past 2008? Doubtful. The IOC already voted it out of the 2012 London games, and with the World Baseball Classic (a clear replacement for the Olympic tournament) gaining momentum it seems to only be a matter of time before Olympic baseball is gone for good. There are rumors that if Chicago or Tokyo were to win the 2016 Summer Olympics bid, baseball would make a triumphant return. However, that would require MLB to lighten its rule. History tells us that doesn’t happen everyday. Just ask Joe Jackson and Pete Rose.

With memories of Jim Abbot’s gold-medal complete game in Seoul, and a tearful Tommy Lasorda embracing his players in 2000 fading fast, there seems to be only one thing left to do for Olympic baseball fans. Enjoy it while it’s still here.

– Matt Dewhurst / WCSN.com

This interactive Boston Marathon blog will answer the following questions:

What’s the biggest bonehead move someone can make at the start of a marathon?

Where was Waldo?

How long does it take a wheelchair racer with cerebral palsy to finish a marathon?

Can a man’s nipples bleed in a marathon?

Is Heartbreak Hill really that heartbreaking?

What big mistake did I make?

Why did my arms cramp at the end of a marathon?

What’s better, the crowds at Wellesley or Boston College?

Is Boston the best marathon?

Before I answer the first question, some logistical information about getting to the starting line. After a hearty breakfast, some friends and I walked about 1.5 miles and arrived at the meeting place at 7:30 a.m. to board buses that took us to the Athlete’s Village near the starting line in Hopinkton. The buses departed a few minutes before 8. We arrived at the village at 9:15. Another half-mile walk led us to a bathroom break and some final preparations took an hour, then we made the 10-minute walk to the starting area. We crossed the start line at about 10:45.

Which brings me to the bonehead scenario. Police wisely positioned themselves sporadically along the streets in Hopinkton to, among others, prevent runners from urinating on the lawn’s of the town’s residents and too close to the streets. About one mile from the start, one runner decided to defy the authorities. A police officer rushed over, grabbed him and asked him to stop.

The startled runner stared at the officer and then pulled out of his grasp to walk back to the race. The officer walked after him and loudly asked him to stop. The runner then started to run, prompting a chase by the now irritated officer, who ran him down and physically forced him off the course as startled runners kept moving.

I wondered if the runner caused his early exit from probably the most difficult marathon in which to gain entry. I wondered if he was detained. And if he had waited another half mile where unguarded wooded areas began, he would have been freer to achieve relief.

Where was Waldo? On a lighter note, as I ran through Natick at about mile 10 I spotted a young man sitting in a chair dressed in what I thought was a Santa Claus suit. It turns out he was playing the part of Waldo, and he informed me that I had just found the children’s book character who is difficult to find among many other characters in drawings.

How long does it take a disabled wheelchair racer to finish the marathon - I caught up to Jason Pisano at about mile 11. He sat in a wheelchair facing me as I approached him. Pisano has cerebral palsy and pushed a wheelchair at a snails pace up a hill with his right foot which he pressed against the ground. Each push moved him a few inches. Two guides walked with Pisano, who is a member of the Achilles Track Club that helps disabled athletes compete in road races.

The latest time check registered for Pisano told that he reached the half marathon at 4:36.11. His projected time was over nine hours, but there was no official indication that he finished the race. He has completed dozens of marathons, including previous races in Boston, in under nine hours. I didn’t notice how he managed to control his wheelchair going downhill, but he must make up some time on the descents. I wondered how he avoids hurting himself during the downhills.

I tried to use the vision of Pisano struggling up those hills to help me get through the last few miles of the race when it felt as if could not release the tenacious vice grip that held a firm hold on my quads. But there’s only so much your mind and emotions can do to propel a glycogen depleted body to move forward at a desired pace.

Can a man’s nipples bleed in a marathon? Yes, they can. I saw small evidence of that when a fellow runner showed me his shirt after he completed the race Monday. He applied wax but no adhesive bandages.

Friday night, as I dined with my wife in Boston, we talked with a woman who had run about a dozen marathons as she sat next to us at the restaurant bar. She told the uncomfortable tale of the time her husband failed to apply any protection over his nipples during his first marathon. She started to see the blood that nearly soaked his entire shirt at about mile 12, at which time her husband understandably complained of severe discomfort. They managed to apply band-aids donated from a spectator, but that helped only minimally. The damage had already been done.

In Boston I wore round adhesive bandages that worked splendidly.

Is Heartbreak Hill really a heartbreak? – Heartbreak Hill just past mile 20 holds a bit of hype. Maybe we should call it Heartache Hill because it leads to a more severe pain soon after clearing it. The descent after peaking it creates more discomfort. And a shorter but steeper incline that begins just past mile 19 was more challenging.

My quads started to tense uncomfortably shortly after starting the descent off of Heartbreak Hill, slowing my pace considerably. By mile 23, I was forced to walk and run to the finish. I tried once to stretch my left quad, only to cause a crippling cramp to both the quad and hamstring.

At mile 25 I seriously wondered if I would be limited to walking across the finish line, something I swore earlier I would not do. The cacophonous, thick crowd that lined the streets the last couple of miles could inspire any physically stifled runner to summon whatever energy that remained. I jogged painfully across the line in 4:39, feeling relief with some euphoria but disappointment that I did not run faster.

Biggest mistake – My running partner TK and I comfortably covered the first half of the race in just over 10-minute per mile pace. But I felt antsy, and picked up the pace thereafter. My competitive nature took over. I thought I could break four hours. My plan was to run a nine or 9:30 pace to the finish. Ha. How naive.

I wanted to run that pace through Heartbreak Hill and then assess my physical condition. A piercing pain shot through my left groin at about mile 17, but I relaxed and kept running through the hill except to stop and take some photos.

Once past the hill, I tried to open up my stride and take advantage of most of the upcoming declines. But my legs did not cooperate.

I was silly to think that I could pick up the pace from miles 14 to 20 on the way to cruising the last few miles. And I crossed the line only five minutes ahead of TK, who maintained the steady but slower pace and avoided the quad cramps and prolonged walking stretches at the end of the race. Such are the lessons learned of a first time marathoner.

Why did my arms cramp at the end of a marathon? - I guess it happens because my arms remained in a flexed position for more than fours hours. But it took me by complete surprise. I had never experienced such discomfort in my arms before when running and it humbled me considerably. I later found out that some other runner endured the same pain.

What’s better, the crowds at Wellesley College or Boston College – A friend who has run Boston several times told me how the crowds at Wellesley College at about the midpoint of the race in the past allowed a narrow lane through their streets, similar to a Tour de France race. He also recounted the time a friend of his cleverly threw his business cards into the crowd, prompting a few callbacks from the coeds.

Security barriers now keep the students off the street. They were loud and energetic, leaning over as far as they could on the barriers to offer a slapping hand. But the crowds near the college were thin and the students seemed caged in, resulting in a runner-up finish to the rowdies at Boston College.

The BC boys and girls elicited a rave-like energy and intensity, and it came at the perfect place, just after mile 20, when runners “hit the wall”. They provided a surreal surge of enthusiasm for about 10 minutes, offering much needed emotional assistance at a crucial part of the race.

Is Boston the beast marathon? – As a first-time marathoner, my opinion will lack the best comparative perspective. But it’s hard to imagine a marathon that offers the combination of spectator support, history and challenge as this race.

At least 90 percent of the course provided strong crowd support, a remarkable accomplishment considering it is a point-to point race with no switchbacks. And days before the race, the runner’s pride permeated the downtown area near the finish as they reveled in the fact that they were about to run in the 112th race.The crowds that packed the streets through most of the last two miles of the course were truly inspiring. The uplifting mass of humanity that crowds that last half-mile can cure any crippling muscular discomfort and push a runner past their limitations to cross the finish line in at least a slow jog.

And I chuckled at the two young men who dressed as beer kegs.

Many people told me that the race is mostly downhill and that the first four miles of slight declines creates a false sense of discomfort that can create problems later on. The course does end some 400 feet lower than at the start, but rolling hills are rampant throughout the course, providing a subtle and continuous challenge.

The course was more difficult than anticipated, making the experience that much more rewarding.

As expected, my one-hour sports massage Thursday provided welcome physical replenishment as my Boston Marathon debut beckons. But to my surprise, I also received a touch of spiritual rejuvenation as I walked the mile from the massage center to the Sheraton Boston Hotel, my base of operations for the race Monday.

On Newberry St. a few blocks from the finish of the race at Copley Square, The Church of the Covenant displayed a sign that read, “Run the Good Race. Blessing of the Runners. 10:30 a.m.”

Clever marketing or sincere support? In the spirit of the event, I’ve chosen the latter.

Another quarter mile into my walk, as the sunset radiated a fading and soothing light on the Square, I spotted another inspirational message provided by the Old South Church in Boston on Boylston St. adjacent to the finish area. It read, “If you want to run a mile, run a mile. If you want to experience a different life, run a marathon.” It credited Emil Zatopek, the Czechoslovakian runner who won the 5,000 meters, 10,000 meters and the marathon at the 1952 Helsinki Olympics.

I expect to enjoy a rare lifetime experience in my first marathon on Monday, and to be reminded about a part of my life that brought forth many of the same feelings as I expect from the marathon.

More than a quarter century ago, for about an eight-year period through high school and college, running consumed my life. At the University of Maryland, I managed to be a decent half-miler (1:49) at a top national program. My college experience yielded many fond memories, not all of them fluffy. But even the harsh moments were well worth the time, contributing to invaluable lessons in life.

In a more condensed time frame, I hope that my attempt to complete the Boston Marathon on April 21 will yield similar memories. And as I am embedded in middle age, I have embraced this time as a revivalist venture.

Notice that my goal is to complete this marathon. I harbor no grand illusions about my intent. My purpose is to produce insightful commentary during the race while running, take some pictures and compose a grand collection of thoughts and images for a post-race essay. I plan to run as much of the race as possible, and, allotting for stops to blog and snap photos, finish comfortably in less than five hours.

The best barometer I can use is my 18-mile run as part of the third leg of the Himalayas 100-Mile Ultramarathon, an event I covered as a journalist in 2004. I ran part of the full marathon stage, 80 percent of which flowed 5,000 feet downhill through the Indian mountainside with Mount Everest peaking through the clouds in the distance.

In Boston, I want to have fun while embracing the physical challenge. And I’ve tried to approach my training with that in mind.

A few primary factors have enhanced my training pleasures this time around compared to college. No more than 100 yards stretches from my front door to access what must be one of the most glorious natural running facilities on the planet; the comfortably surfaced Washington & Old Dominion Trail, which stretches almost 45 miles from urban Arlington, VA just across the river from Washington, D.C. to rural Purcellville, VA.

I live near the 38-mile mark, a portion that for several miles in each direction includes canopy-like tree cover, a cinder and packed dirt horse trail and minimal recreational congestion. This recreational respite elevated my interest in running a few years ago, and its relatively forgiving surface has undoubtedly prolonged my years moving with some pace on my feet.

Before my enhanced training to complete Boston began in late February, I ran from two to five miles a few times a week mostly alone on that trail with my dogs. They were times of personal sanctuary for me, allowing for adrenaline-filled times of reflection.

But the Boston challenge gave me a goal that compelled a more urgent sense of purpose. I reached out to a neighbor, Tom, who has run dozens of marathons and for a time lived in Boston and hung out with Bill Rodgers and his boys when they all worked at running stores in the early 80s.

We ran together twice a week, including the long runs that can condemn a sane mind to near insane tendencies if done alone. Two coworkers also running in Boston described the difficult details of their long solo ventures. My long runs, which peaked at 15 miles, were a relative jog in the park, thanks in large part to the camaraderie and chatter that quickly passed the minutes along.

Tom and I also ran the National Half Marathon together and we turned it into a social call. We joked with other runners, thanked policeman lining the streets and encouraged the sparse pockets of spectators to cheer us on. I finished in a surprisingly comfortable 1:48.

I’m hoping the Boston Marathon on Monday can come close to matching that experience. Considering its character, I’d be surprised if it does not.

I expect running double the distance will cause more physical discomfort than the half marathon. In times of difficulty, I will summon thoughts from college of gut-wrenching and workouts to remind myself that I survived them and to convince myself that I can endure whatever physical challenge that confronts me.

And I can call on some more inspirational words provided by the Old South Church near Copley Square. A banner that hung from the entrance to the large, Gothic structured offered the following passage: “May you run and not grow weary, walk and not faint.” Isaiah 40:27-31.

Amen.

I faced a few concerns before embarking on an accelerated training program to prepare for the Boston marathon later this month. At the age of 49, would my legs tolerate the increased pounding? Would our dogs continue to get enough exercise with my adjusted training schedule? Would I stick to my commitments to drink “slight” beer and avoid rich pastries for two months?

In mid-February I discovered that I would be running my first marathon in Boston and I would blog about my experience as part of WCSN.com’s coverage of its unprecedented global webcast of the race. Up to that point, I had maintained a comfortable 15 miles a week of running and soccer playing combined with some strength training.

The answer to my first question came quickly. A mere couple of days before finding out about running Boston, I strained a calf muscle while performing some back skips as a cool down from an early-morning run. Normally, that would prompt me to avoid running for at least a week. But to my pleasant surprise, the calf recovered quicker than anticipated.

I attempted my first “long” run, a leisurely seven-mile point-to-point jaunt on a running trail in Northern Virginia, a few days after straining the calf muscle. My pit bull-Labrador mix Kaylee trotted trance-like by my side. After a comfortable four miles, the calf started to tighten. I continued slowly for another mile until the discomfort forced me to stop running. I walked the last two miles home, leaving Kaylee, capable of jogging 10 miles comfortably in such cool conditions, thoroughly unfulfilled and me forlorn and wondering if my first Boston Marathon experience died during its embryonic stage.

Miraculously, only tightness remained two days later. A few days of cross training and two weeks of intensive chiropractic-led therapy solved the problem. I ran nine miles the following Saturday and 12 miles the week after. I felt relieved and revived, and have maintained a comfortable training routine that last week reached 35 miles.

My concern about one of our dogs lingers.

Barney the Beagle still struggles with his disrupted routine. Barney normally lasts about three miles before he either gets bored or slows down to the point of inconvenience. A low center of gravity accentuates his laboring. At the end of those ventures, we normally slow to a plodding walk.The solution is to reduce Barney’s participation to four days a week. On one of those days, I run with both dogs for three miles, put them in the car with plenty of water and continue alone for at least a couple of more miles. Another day, I bring Barney out for a two-mile run after finishing five miles with Kaylee. Barney also joins Kalyee and me for two relaxed inline skating sessions on recovery days.

Still, some discomfort persists. Dog lovers know the brief emotional trauma dogs can inflict on their owners when they know there are about to be excluded from a group activity to which they’ve become accustomed and enjoy. More so with beagles, which possess a more pronounced separation anxiety than most other dogs.

In the past, when Barney sensed I would leave him behind, his eyes bled with distress as he stared up at me, worrying that I might abandon him forever. Or so it seemed. Once left alone, he reacted to the distress by howling incessantly for minutes, waking my wife Sharon from her predawn slumber. How did I resolve the crisis?

Pig ears. The crisp pork pieces shaped like a pig ear are considered the potato chips for dogs. The site of them places Barney in a freaky frenzy. As I slide out the door, feeling diminished pet guilt, a thoroughly distracted Barney engorges them with a ravenous intensity. The cries of separation pain have stopped, much to Sharon’s and my pleasures.

Pleasure prevented me from adhering to my plan to drink only “slight” beer through the marathon. It lasted about one week. The site of a Bass Ale draft or a chilled Heineken bottle have proven too compelling, especially at the end of a robust activity. Further, due to “slight” beer’s less-filling trait, I drank more than I normally would with regular beer, offsetting the reduced overall caloric intake.

I lasted almost two weeks without a donut or rich pastry before a sinister co-worker brought a box of donut holes into our office. How impairing could one donut hole be? Further, when our COO Carlos, a fitness fanatic, commented that there’s nothing wrong with eating one donut as he munched on the sweet morsel, I complied. Three times.

With glazed sugar sprinkled on our lips, Carlos and I then agreed that moderation is the key. So I’ve reduced my rich pastry intake to about two per week, excluding the piece of chocolate cake I consumed at a dinner party last Saturday night. And a leftover piece the next day at home. I couldn’t let it go to waste.

Besides, I figured I’d run it off.

Next week: Running once again consumes my life.

By Dave Ungrady

About halfway through my winter-prompted, work-from-home day in northern Virginia on Jan. 17, snowflakes the size of a quarter coin fell in steady and full clusters outside my window as I sat in a reclining chair with my laptop positioned naturally. During a break from editing and writing, I flicked through the television channels and stopped at an HBO presentation of the movie Superman Returns.

I recall one scene more than others for its surreal absurdity. Superman descends at the speed of sound, naturally, from the high skies and chases down a free-falling jetliner. Moments before the plane is about the make a splattering nose plant in the middle of a major league baseball stadium packed with fans during a game, Superman grabs the plane and guides it to a cushy landing. As we expect from Superman, he saved the day.

To a greatly lesser degree, but still profoundly enough, U.S. sprinter Tyson Gay pulled a Superman act about an hour later during a United States Olympic Committee teleconference touting its selections for top performers of 2007. He saved the day for this member of the media.

Gay, who received the Sportsman of the Year award, joined the teleconference about 16 minutes from its start. Gay is still adjusting to his rising global fame after winning three gold medals at the 2007 world championships, including a victory in the 100 meters over world record holder Asafa Powell, and has not spoken to a media group this large since winning the world championships last summer. More than one dozen journalists joined the call.

Other athletes honored by the USOC included U.S. swimmers Michael Phelps and Katie Hoff, Paralympian Jessica Galli and the U.S. women’s gymnastics team. Before Gay joined the teleconference, the other athletes, mostly the gymnasts, offered sincere and mostly standard responses focusing on how honored they felt to receive the awards and how hard they plan to work between now and Beijing. One gymnast told of warming up outside the arena on concrete in Germany during the 2007 world championships because they were denied access to a gym. Nice copy, but in my mind none triggered an alluring lead for a compelling story.

Then a Reuters reporter asked Gay about 20 minutes into the teleconference if elite disabled athletes should be able to compete in the Olympics. The topic is timely because earlier in the week track and field’s world governing body, the IAAF, ruled that Paralympic sprint champion Oscar Pistorius of South Africa could not compete in the Beijing Olympics.

“I don’t see a problem with it if they want to go out and compete just like we do and put their heart into it,” he said.

His comment triggered a few elevated beats of my own heart. When Gay added that he would not avoid Pistorius if he wanted to challenge Gay in a 200-meter race, my heart beats per minute approached the fat-burning zone.

Through a spokesman, Gay later clarified that he did not mean to criticize the decision by the IAAF and was referring to competitions in general.

Still, his words prompted a few journalists, myself included, to write a breakout piece about the world’s most prominent sprinter expressing rare public views that support some level of competitive equality between disabled and able-bodied athletes. The story had clout, emotion and a sense of urgency centered on a character who is mostly inaccessible to the media.

But Gay managed to stand out for reasons beyond his status, and at least this journalist is grateful. Gay showed a congenial candor and willingness to answer any question. He commented candidly about Marion Jones, saying the damage is done and that it put a dark cloud over the sport. He embraced a pointed question asking him why the public should believe that he does not use performance enhancing drugs while past Olympic and world champions and world record holders such as Ben Johnson, Justin Gatlin and Tim Montgomery are connected to drug use.

He responded quickly and calmly, saying drug-convicted athletes are looking for a quick fix, they don’t want to do the hard work, that his mind is clear and he can’t prove to people that he doesn’t use drugs.

“I can only work hard every day, make sacrifices by not going out to the parties,” he said. That’s what I’m wiling to do.”

Spoken like a true Superman who saved the day.

Dave Ungrady is a senior editor at WCSN.com

By Dave Ungrady

The first Thanksgiving in the United States was held nearly 400 years ago to give thanks to the conclusion of the harvest season.

Global sports harvest interest from an impassioned community. And the holiday offers a time of reflection and the savoring of fond moments with friends and family. Feelings of gratitude flow as richly as Grandma’s traditional turkey gravy.

To celebrate the spirit of the season, WCSN.com has compiled a list of reasons why those involved with the U.S. Olympic community—administrators, coaches, athletes, fans—should be extra grateful this year.

USA Swimming – that its athletes won 36 medals, including 20 gold, in the pool at the world championships in Melbourne, Australia. That tied its best gold and total medal totals set at the 1978 world championships.

Rulon Gardner – that he is still alive. In February, the 2000 Olympic wresting champion survived a plane crash in a lake in Utah followed by a one-hour swim in 44-degree water to safety and then an unsheltered night with the temperature at 28 degrees. In the past few years, he has survived a motorcycle mishap and a snowmobile accident when he lost a toe from frostbite.

Dara Torres – that she has been blessed with an ageless physicality and spirit. The 40-year-old swimmer, who won her first gold medal at the 1984 Los Angeles Olympics at age 17, won a World Cup race last weekend and is now one of the top 50-meter swimmers in the United States. She has a strong chance to make the U.S. Olympic team for Beijing.

Tyson Gay – that 100-meter world-record holder and Gay’s friendly rival Asafa Powell has not figured out how to win a world championship. Powell’s self-admitted gag in the final in Osaka catapulted Gay to his first world title in the 100 and later to iconic status when he later won gold in the 200-meters and the 4×100 relay.

USA Track and Field – that it matched its best world championship gold medal and total medal tallies in Osaka—14 gold and 26 overall—and that none of its athletes tested positive from drug tests at the event.

USA Men’s gymnastics – that Paul and Morgan Hamm have decided to return to competitive gymnastics in time for the 2008 Beijing Olympics. The development seemed to energize the U.S. men, who finished fourth in the team competition at the 2007 world championships after placing 13^th at the 2006 worlds, an event at which the twins did not compete.

Marion Jones – that she finally came clean about past drug use and now has a clear conscience. The world of Olympic sports would be grateful if she now focused some of her energies to convince young athletes about the risks of using illegal drugs to improve your performance.

Lance Armstrong – that the seven-time Tour de France champion ran and completed the 2006 New York City Marathon so the lessons learned from toughest thing he had ever done thing he had ever done helped him prepare better for the 2007 race, which he finished relatively comfortably in 2:46.43.

The U.S. running community – that before his passing, Ryan Shay left behind profound memories as a dedicated, hard-working and beloved runner to all those who were able to enjoy his company.

U.S. Olympic athletes – that Dick Pound is no longer president of the World Anti-Doping Agency. For all the good Pound has done to raise the stakes against drug cheats, his bombastic style has discredited the agency. There is no reason for someone in his position to publicly convict someone, as he did to U.S. cyclist Floyd Landis, before the completion of the appeals process.

The global sports fan – that the Beijing Olympics is only 258 days away. Only one other global sports event, the FIFA World Cup, attracts a larger television audience, but no other such event carries the prestige and historical athletic significance of the summer Olympics.

USA baseball, men’s and women’s basketball, softball, synchronized swimming, women’s volleyball and men’s and women’s water polo – that they’ve already qualified for the 2008 Beijing Olympics.

World Championship Sports Network - that the world is filled with thousands of idealistic athletes who aspire for some sort of global glory, such as an Olympic medal, a world championship title or simply the desire to continuously compete at the highest level possible on the world stage. Without you, we would not exist.

By Dave Ungrady

Moments after Ryan Hall concluded a brief and spontaneous interview with the media Sunday at the Tavern on the Green restaurant in New York, he discussed with his agent Ray Flynn and me a time and place to stage our prearranged but yet to be confirmed one-on-one on camera interview for the next day.

After we agreed on the details, a smiling Hall said, “And you have to wear your skates.”

I responded with a smile and a trace of humility and was surprised he remembered. “It would be hard to fall this time,” I said.

How could he forget? Hall referred to an incident that took place early last June while he ran the Olympic marathon trials course for the first time with his coach, Terrence Mahon. With the help of the New York Road Runner’s Club, which was promoting the 2008 Olympics trials in the men’s marathon, Hall and Mahon allowed me to videotape the training session. No motorized vehicles are allowed in most of Central Park, so I performed the video duty while on my in-line skates.

Decades of in-line skating experience did not prevent an embarrassing fall within the first half-mile. My helmet-protected head banged against the pavement, but I was not hurt, and, more importantly, the camera survived with nary a scratch. As Hall and Mahon ran by me, splayed on the ground, Hall muttered a calm “You OK?” They continued on their mission.

Otherwise, the session went smoothly. After a 10-minute on-camera interview, Hall and Mahon asked me for a ride back to their hotel about a mile away. They had already run about 12 miles. I obliged.

The back of my Toyota RAV-4 pseudo SUV serves as a mobile locker room and the main mode of transport for two dogs. The two back seats were removed. Athletic equipment—soccer balls and shoes, golf balls, in-line skate gear, etc.—lay randomly in the space. Bags, scattered pieces of garbage, dog hair and toys littered the area.

Hall, undaunted by the environment, jumped willingly in the back and spread his body comfortably on tip of the mess.

During the 10-minute ride, Mahon, Hall and I chatted fondly about common friends in the running community. Mahon ran at Villanova in the early 1990s. I competed for Maryland in the late 1970s. The teams were main rivals for years. Hall was too young to fully appreciate any of the recollections, but he engaged himself casually in the conversation.

That was my first glimpse of the placid and pleasant personality that will likely soon become more than familiar in the global running community. Hall stamped himself a potential prodigy with his win Saturday in the 2008 U.S. Olympic trials in the men’s marathon.

Hall displays an easygoing and engaging demeanor with an unforced sense of humor. He brought up the skating issue immediately when we met at the lobby of his hotel before the interview Monday morning.

“I looked for that spot on the course where you fell,” he said with a sly smile, referring to the trials. I appreciated his good-natured fabrication.

“You’ve gotta come to Beijing and shoot me running the Olympics course,” he said. “You’re good luck.” I embraced his grand embellishment.

During the 40-minute interview, Hall reflected comfortably and pensively about many subjects, ranging from the death of his friend Ryan Shay to his meteoric rise as the United States’ next projected distance running star and beyond, to his strong sense of spiritual awareness.

In hyped references, Hall has been mentioned as the Tiger Woods of running for his potential to encourage a new wave of young athletes to try the sport. He certainly does not appear to be the next Steve Prefontaine, the former equally engaging U.S. distance star who was otherwise known for rebellious tendencies.

During the interview Hall repeatedly referred to the significance of Christianity in his life. On Monday night, he and his wife boarded a plane for a two-week trip to Israel, as he explained, to better appreciate the land where Jesus thrived.

It will be fun to enjoy Hall’s novel journey toward the top echelon of global distance running. Let’s hope he maintains his humble tendencies and good-natured California demeanor as he develops into the next great U.S. marathoner.