| Coming off the plane in Detroit, Meshack did not look like an elite runner. His David-Niven mustache suggested suavity rather than sinew, and his gentle gaze seemed to hold very little competitive fire. Shockingly, too, the lines on his face and the small hints of alopecia suggested that he was a vintage athlete, perhaps the kind of fellow who was nearing the 40 mark.
But he was my runner, the first Kenyan I had brought to the states for my budding business as a... |