I've held my tongue on this for a bit, not wanting to fan the flames any more over this tragic turn of events. I am sorry Frank did what he did to his family in apparently choosing to take his own life. They're the ones who have to now deal with not only the aftermath of his death and all that entails, but also the lingering cloud he left with respect to his legacy of marathon races. I truly wish there had been a different outcome for him and his family. I wish them as much peace and closure as can be pulled out of this entire mess, and I hope Frank is remembered for the good works he did during his life rather than the other stuff.
But to say that all of this had to do with his profession, or his ethnicity, or anything other than the simple fact that he was taking recognition belonging to someone else is just folly. I spent hours combing through photographs looking for Frank, or the absence of Frank, because of my respect for Ed Whitlock and his legacy. Ed put in the hours of training, ran the times, and generally appeared to be a quiet, decent and humble man. I never knew him personally, but he is one very powerful reason I am still running when doctors, friends and my own body tell me I should stop. And MikeMach1977's reference to Joan Samuelson--same thing. When she passed me in a race a couple years ago, I thought to myself, I want to be like her when I grow up. Don't even get me started on Bernard Lagat....
As for Frank, well, the photo of him on the bike just sealed it for me. Not that I doubted any of the previous photographic evidence I and others uncovered and I am impressed at whoever found it and posted it. But the disrespect demonstrated by Frank's act in that simple photo to the millions of runners who step out into the rain or snow to get that long run done preparing for a marathon, to the runners for whom that finisher's medal is truly a badge of honor representing not only the challenge of completing the 26.2 miles but also the all the mileage necessary to get to the starting and finish lines, to the age group runners from whom he took recognition, and most importantly, to Ed Whitlock, who continued to show that age is just a number--that is why. Frank took applause belonging to Ed and to millions of runners who do it honestly.
Harsh? Perhaps. Any more harsh, though, than riding a bicycle between timing mats and proclaiming age groups records and claiming honors that belong to others, and living a lie of this magnitude and duration in the face of one's friends, family and colleagues? Not in my mind. But my evidently cynical "heartless" heart has another nick on it as a result of this whole saga. I wish it had gone a different way.
