Review by Frank Plowright

As a teenager growing up Wisconsin, Mylo Choy discovered running was an obligatory part of the school curriculum, and they also discovered they had a talent for it. They were never the best, but persistence led to a competitive level, and running offered a form of personal freedom filling a previously unknown hole in Choy’s life. As time passes the ultimate ambition is to take part in the New York Marathon, a benchmark rite of passage ritual for many American runners, but the way is frustrated by longstanding injuries.

Choy’s cartooning can occasionally surprise, such as a sequence breaking down illustrations of a runner into geometric abstracts, but for the most part it’s simple and not greatly expressive. It does what it needs to, but no more.

This would be fine if Middle Distance were an engrossing progression, but it isn’t. Small and personal, it reads more like a self-published diary project than a graphic novel issued by a publisher with a considerable track record. Choy writes about running as their personal experience, but never broadens beyond into something to connect with readers. No-one wants to go through niggling injuries, nor have their dreams postponed, but Choy doesn’t relate anything not experienced by thousands of runners. Even then Middle Distance could have been more interesting with more diversions about competitive running generally, equipment and clubs, or the occasional anecdote. Instead Choy keeps everything small, personal and restricted.

Toward the end Choy writes about discovering words being unable to convey the whole story, which is a damning admission about communication problems. The reason words don’t work for Choy is that they give nothing of themselves except in the vaguest terms, and therefore no reason for anyone to take an interest.