I thoroughly enjoyed "Duel in the Sun." Coming into it, I knew Dick Beardsley was a Midwestern runner, but that was the extent of what I knew about him. I knew little more about Alberto Salazar aside from the snippets I picked up when his autobiography came out and the vicious posts about him on Letsrun.com. As long as a marathon feels while you're running it, I couldn't imagine how the author was going to draw out the action of a single race over 200 pages. The way Brant does it is by expertly switching back and forth in time to describe the lives of Beardsley and Salazar going into the 1982 Boston Marathon and their lives afterwards. The message I ultimately took from "Duel" was that both men ran the races of their lives that day but at a brutal cost. Neither of them were really the same runners afterwards. While Beardsley was the smarter of the two that day, wearing a cap and drinking plenty of water, Salazar prevailed but permanently damaged his lung capacity in the process. Both men overtrained and over-raced in those years. Beardsley soon had achilles injuries that killed his career. The descriptions of the race itself are the centerpiece of "Duel," (and it's hard now to imagine a Boston Marathon where there were no barricades between the fans and spectators) but the author gives us much more. He deftly shows how that single race impacted the runners' lives. Everything seemed tied to the duel in the sun, at least in Brant's view: Salazar's frantic attempts to rekindle his speed, Beardsley's farm accident and subsequent drug addiction. What I took away was the complexity of the two men involved. It would be easy to portray the '82 race as a hero/villain story where the villain wins. Sleeker, faster, more weapons at his disposal. Salazar becomes almost like a Darth Vader figure. But that would make for an awful story. The truth is always more complex, and I think some of the online critics of Salazar's life and training methods would be less judgmental if they knew the full story. Salazar was pressured to succeed from an early age, and one must respect, if nothing else, his drive to win no matter the effort involved. As a runner, he pushed until he collapsed from heat exhaustion. Ultimately he worked himself into the ground, at least where running is concerned, and this book makes clear that Salazar has had to live with the regret of that ever since. He fully admits the bad in him: his early indifference to competitors and reporters, the way he treated his workers when he owned a restaurant. One wonders if his turn to devout Catholicism while in the midst of his struggles was selfish or selfless...but there's redemption here, too. Salazar's a good family man, a good coach who cares about his runners, a hard worker. He's human. We all make mistakes. Beardsley is no different. Everyone loved Beardsley because of his demeanor, but he too struggled with running woes as well as financial debts and seven years of addiction to painkillers. As great as Beardsley is, he's also a convicted felon. But both men had triumphs as well after Boston. Salazar won Comrades and became a great coach for Nike. Beardsley built several successful businesses in his home state of Minnesota. It was great to see the book end as it did, with the reunion of Salazar and Beardsley at Beardsley's half-marathon in Minnesota. "Duel" is not just a book for serious fans of distance running but for fans of sports in general and for anyone, really, interested in the humanness of star athletes. It's a great reminder that these aren't merely faces we see on TV but real people with real lives, problems, and regrets to go along with their successes.