As far as being a coach, it’s always fascinated me. It’s a greater responsibility than most people give it credit for because you’re dealing with people.
What I like most about track is the feeling I get after a good run.
You cannot propel yourself forward by patting yourself on the back.
What kind of crazy nut would spend two or three hours a day just running?
I don’t just go out there and run. I like to give people watching something exciting.
I’ve been in international competition, and now I know what the big boys can do. You don’t go out and just run. There’s an offense and a defense.
Every once in a while I think, ‘What am I doing out here running, busting myself up? Life could be so much easier. The other guys are out having fun, doing other things, why not me?’
My philosophy is that I’m an artist. I perform an art not with a paint brush or a camera. I perform with bodily movement. Instead of exhibiting my art in a museum or a book or on canvas, I exhibit my art in front of the multitudes.
A race is a work of art.
How does a kid from Coos Bay, with one leg longer than the other win races?
If you can’t win your race, make sure the guy ahead of you breaks the record.
Running gives me confidence.
Nobody likes tainted victories.
Kids made fun of me because I was a slow learner, because I was hyperactive, because of a lot of things. Running gave me confidence.
No one will ever win a 5,000-meter by running an easy two miles. Not against me.
The idea of losing the three at Hayward Field and the idea of losing my specialty to someone who wasn’t running his specialty. Mostly, the idea of losing in front of my people. They haven’t forgotten about me.
I run to see who has the most guts.
Having a true faith is the most difficult thing in the world. Many will try to take it from you.
Some people create with words or with music or with a brush and paints. I like to make something beautiful when I run.
Something inside of me just said ‘Hey, wait a minute, I want to beat him,’ and I just took off.