Just an observation, not directed at anyone in particular:
I have read this thread with interest from the beginning, because I was a college freshman when Henry went on his big spring world record tear, and because I met him briefly at a party in a Boulder apartment after a small indoor meet at CU in Janyaury 1982.
In the beginning, many posters assumed that because Henry was such a fantastic, all-time-great athlete, that he must know secrets to success that are beyond the knowledge of mere mortals. Perhaps many Americans wanted to believe that as one of the greatest African runners, Henry had some innate, mystical connection to the great truths about running that elude the scientists, physiologists and coaches.
Somewhere along the way, many posters began to feel that Henry had let them down or cheated them in some way, especially after they saw a photo of him overweight in a race in Cincinatti, as if the photographic evidence brought to them the truth they had been avoiding in their own minds, that Henry is an overweight, middle-aged man 25 years past his prime, who admittedly has struggled with alcohol problems in the past, and is trying to regain his health and a bit of the old competitive experience through an attempt at setting some masters records.
So now, we have the opposite situation from what we had at the beginning -- instead of feeling awe that Henry is a running god sent down to lead us mere mortals on the path of enlightenment through his mystical wisdom, the typical poster now believes Henry is incapable of achieving his goals without THEIR help; i.e. advice on diet, training, shoes, etc etc etc. Quite a reversal.
Henry has accepted the advice graciously, and has apparently put some of it to good use based on reports of recent weight loss.
Here's my point: We tend to diefy celebrities, in this case our running champions, and want to believe that they have some special wisdom that, were we to obtain it and act upon it, would propel us to stardom and glory. As it turns out, this is not the case. The record setters are blessed with great genes and determination. They may also have learned, or stumbled upon, through coaching or trial-and-error, the right training system for them. But to think that they have some magic beyond consistent hard work and self discipline is to believe that the Running Fairy is going to visit you tonight and sprinkle you with Magic Dust, and tomorrow you will run your 10 X 400m in 56 and next week you'll lap the field. We want believe that people like Henry have magic power because we hold out hope that our own hard work will be rewarded some day in ways wildly beyond our means.
This is degrading to Henry in 2 ways: First because people invested some of their own dreams in the hope that Henry would run a 4:30 mile or 15:00 5k after a few months training -- ridiculous notion -- and then became increasingly irritated when this did not come to pass soon enough for their attention spans. Second, because Henry is a mortal human being, not some superhuman running machine, so there is great courage in his struggle, win or lose, and so much more to be admired in the way he is fighting, through trial and error and some good advice, to regain his health and fitness and speed, and if we remember that he is a human being who has not taken very good care of his body over the last 20 years, we can begin to appreciate the true heroism of his daily trudge up the Albuquerque trails.
I know you are all well-intentioned, those who think of Henry as a god and those who see him as an overweight, self-deluded fool, and would all like to see him blaze again in glorious form. It may yet happen. But try to remember that, fast or slow, thin or fat, Henry is a human being, same as you or I, and that goes for all the other runners you worship one day and hypercriticise the next. They are just people like you and I. They have dreams, they make mistakes, and every once in a while one of them among us realizes greatness.