While Ryun won't admit that Munich is his goal, the city keeps cropping up in conversations. Anne asks the price of renting a house there in, oh, say, 1972. When she is told $5,000, she nearly faints. Ryun listens to a theory that man reaches his physical peak at 25. "Good," he says. "That's how old I'll be for Munich." He also asks about Liquori, what he's up to, if he's running. When he in turn is asked to describe the perfect setting for the race of his life, he says: "About 70°, no particular track, top competition. Only the competition matters." Does that mean Keino and Liquori? "That's right," Ryun says, and behind the bland expression, the horn rims and the gray vest, you can almost hear the competitive juices bubbling.
But he says no more, so we must guess. How about a semisecret mile at the K.U. indoor track against K.U. runners? If that goes well, a return to competitive running at an indoor meet this winter—Los Angeles, maybe, or New York. After that, selected races and more intensive training. And, of course, Munich has to be it. As his friend and boss Rich Clarkson says: "You can bet Jim isn't getting ready for the Mt. SAC Relays."