Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: WEDNESDAY, August 3, 1994 TAG: 9408030039
SECTION: EXTRA PAGE: 1 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: RICK LINDQUIST STAFF WRITER
DATELINE: PETERSTOWN, W. VA. LENGTH: Long
Instead - to overcome his depression and discouragement and to prove to himself that he wasn't ready for the scrap heap just yet - he chose to run all day. From coast to coast.
Mann's "Run Across America" - now in its third month - has carried his message of health and hope from Cape Henlopen, Del., through the nation's heartland and into the Rockies, well on the way to his goal of reaching Portland, Ore., by September.
Through exercise and healthy habits, Mann says, "we can literally change the health care industry ourselves and not wait on Congress to do it." He'd wanted to tell that to President Clinton when he ran through the capital this spring, but the President's aides said Clinton didn't have time to listen. "So, I just kinda hollered as I came past the Washington Monument," he said. "I guess he didn't hear me."
A subtext of his adventure, though, is to emphasize the plight of the uninsured and unemployed like himself, whom he calls "the little people." A devout Mormon and regional church official who eschews running on Sundays, Mann takes time out along the way to share his ideas and ideals of good health and individual self-worth and ability with school and church groups and with people he meets, and to help "the little people" find their voice.
"I've learned that there are a lot of good people in the world," said Mann, who refers to himself as "an over-the-hill nobody," a monicker he signs to the "Voice of the Little People" commentaries he's drafting. But he's also observed that most folks are so busy with their daily routines that they're often unaware of what's going on around them.
"They're in a zone," he said.
Mann wants to embrace both the nation and its populace during his marathon. Recently, he helped a man collect discarded aluminum cans along the roadside in Iowa, where they bring a nickel apiece. Another time, he shared soft drinks with the owner of a small store who had offered a helping hand. Others have run with him for a spell, just to chat and share experiences.
Some folks haven't been so receptive, but hecklers who try to startle him by making their vehicles backfire as they pass by sometimes have a salutary effect instead. "I always kind of hope their muffler will fall off," he said, "but it perks you up."
Until he'd crossed the Mississippi, Mann was covering his costs mostly out of his own pocket and through the generosity of some of "the little people" who fed him and put him up for the night. Midwestern media coverage of his run led to financial support from the Rev. David DuBois, an entrepreneurial Roman Catholic priest from Texas who runs several business ventures that benefit charity. "He thought it would be great for a Catholic to support a Mormon," said Mann, who's spent more than $3,000 of his own so far.
A few donations from "the little people" have trickled in, though, and Mann is keeping a tight fist on his budget. "Believe it or not, I don't eat much," he said.
That part worries his wife, Sue, who accompanied him for six weeks and reports that he's lost upwards of 30 pounds from his already-trim, 6-foot frame.
Nike has provided running shoes and clothing - he's working on his eighth or ninth pair of sneakers - and he plans to push the company to develop his idea for a running shoe for "over-the-hill" athletes when he visits the company's Beaverton, Ore., office this summer. "You know, with a little extra padding and extra support at the ankle," he explained.
Despite some extremely hot and humid weather in Indiana and Illinois, Mann managed to clock several 50-mile days. The heat yielded to cooler conditions but strong headwinds as he jogged through mile after mile of farmland in Iowa. "'Course, when you pass one of these pig farms, you need the wind," he quipped. Only recently has he complained about blisters, which, he said, were aggravated by his running in the rain.
Through the Midwest, Sue Mann and two of the couple's six children followed along in the family's aging Volkswagen bus, which, he jokes, sometimes doesn't run as well as he does. But somewhere in Nebraska, the roadside routine got to be more than his kids - Seth, 13, and Megan, 10 - could take. "They got homesick," he said.
Sue Mann said it was fun at first, when she and the kids could sightsee along the way. "But that last week was miserable," she said. "There was nothing to do, and the flies were awful." Leaving her husband out in the middle of nowhere was "really hard," she said.
Until family friend Jason Buckland flew out from Peterstown to help him, Mann pushed his bicycle in one direction and rode it back to his van at day's end. Sue Mann takes some comfort knowing her husband's got a traveling companion, but, "I'm sure Jason doesn't rub his feet like we did."
By late July, Mann was finally free of Nebraska and still logging between 30 and 50 miles a day along the secondary roads he prefers to travel. The rest of his "Run Across America" takes him into Wyoming, - he'll come close to Yellowstone National Park - He will not run through Salt Lake City, where the Mormon Church - The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints - is headquartered, although he had wanted to.
Already a few days behind schedule, Mann looks forward to the Rockies, in part to relieve the sameness of the Midwest's agricultural landscape. "This flatland is just torture," he complained in Nebraska. "I've seen a zillion acres of corn."
Mann keeps a detailed journal and plans a book about his adventure. Next year, he hopes to journey from the West Coast to Atlanta - probably by bicycle this time - arriving in time for the Olympics.
by CNB