Kara Goucher sets her sights high in the marathon

You've probably never heard of Kara Goucher.

You probably don't know she has been one of America's best athletes for some time now.

Probably, if you're the average sports fan, you're not aware of her skill and charisma. Or about her father and the emotional, tragic tie that binds them. Or even about the world championships, and the medal in the marathon she'll try to win in Berlin on Sunday.

Goucher is a track star, which accounts for her lack of recognition in this little corner of the globe. The vast majority of Americans pay attention to track only during Olympic summers.

Come London and the 2012 Games, however, I'm guessing you're going to be hearing quite a bit about the diminutive Goucher. I'm betting she's going to be her sport's next "it girl." You'll know her then.

For the uninitiated, some background: As a middle-distance and cross-country runner, Goucher won three individual NCAA titles at Colorado, graduating in 2001. Expected to be an Olympian in 2004, she instead flamed out. There was too much pressure, too many injuries, too many hard defeats. For several years, it appeared her talent would never blossom.

Searching for answers, on a lark she sent an e-mail introduction to Alberto Salazar, an all-time great based in Portland, Ore., where he coaches a track team for Nike. Soon, under Salazar's wing, success came: fast times, personal bests, and surprise medals in big events.

Goucher went to Beijing last year having won the 5,000 meters and taken second in the 10,000 at the Olympic trials. Everything was set. With her athleticism, open personality and looks -- think Natalie Portman in running flats -- she was poised to be a break-out star. Madison Avenue, here comes Ms. Goucher. Cha-ching!

But Beijing turned into Waterloo.

As she told me a few weeks ago, after a training session in Portland: "I got my doors blown off. Jeez, I almost got lapped."

Salazar, though, didn't seem to mind. He had a plan. He'd long thought, because she struggled with her finishing kick, she was best suited not for the middle distances but for the longest, hardest of tests: the ultimate Olympic event; the first Olympic event; the marathon.

"It's OK," he told her. "You're going to have a new identity now. From now on, you're a marathoner."

Gulp.