Johnson Runs From His Past : Track and field: Canadian sprinter works in seclusion to rebuild his career in a comeback from banishment.

It is too early for the snowbirds who descend upon the Arizona desert each winter, escaping the blizzards and freezing rain of the North.

Too early for sun worshipers, but not refugees.

The desert is sprouting them. People with pasts settle in the Valley of the Sun, hoping to fade into the arid, rocky terrain like coyotes.

Few here inquire about where you have been. Better to keep some distance in the vast expanse of these crossroads.

“In some ways out here, it is still like the Wild West,” said an official in the Arizona Secretary of State’s office.

Such a setting seems suited for Ben Johnson, the latest once-was fleeing down the boulder-strewn road of ruins.

Out West, Johnson is trying to stay a step ahead of a curious public.

Although officially eligible for competition after a two-year suspension, he is not free from scrutiny.

Few have forgotten the Ben Johnson ordeal.

After running a world-record 9.79 seconds in the 100 meters, Johnson was stripped of his gold medal after testing positive for anabolic steroids at the Seoul Olympics. He was suspended for two years and publicly castigated.

The affair became a national embarrassment for his country, Canada, and an international sporting scandal.

Johnson’s sanction ended Sept. 24, and he has resurfaced in Tempe, far from his Toronto home.

Johnson, 28, refuses to meet with reporters and declined comment after a recent workout at Tempe High School.

“That’s the whole idea of being down here,” said Loren Seagrave, Johnson’s coach since July. “We want to minimize the publicity. Ben could do three interviews a day. Everything is a distraction. All he wants to do is get back in shape.”

Johnson might have found the closest thing to isolation at Tempe High.

Bruce Harper Stadium, home of the Tempe Buffaloes, is bordered by a residential neighborhood partially hidden behind palms and bush to the west. To the north, a tanned, jagged peak looms in the distance. A bit closer to the right is a giant golden “A” painted on the side of a Tempe hill, the monogram for nearby Arizona State University.

During a mid-week 2 1/2-hour workout, Johnson was left to sprint. Besides Seagrave, one-time Louisiana State women’s track and field coach, Johnson was assisted by Mike Dincu, a Romanian massage therapist, and Kathy Freeman, a U.S. 400-meter hurdler.

Three joggers using the clay-red Tartan track hardly noticed the accouterments of a world-class sprinter as they passed.

Seagrave uses contraptions called optical sensors or speed traps to automatically time Johnson at five- and 10-meter intervals.

In the still air of dusk, the sun sent a prism of light ricochetting off the stadium bleachers, catching Johnson’s gold chain as he glided through one of a dozen sprints.

On most evenings, no one notices the routine. Once the world’s fastest human, Johnson is training in anonymity.

Even the Tempe High student body is nonchalant about its guest celebrity.

Tom McBurney, the Buffaloes’ football and track coach, said Johnson has not been much of a distraction, although the sprinter shares the stadium with the football team.

“We’ve got a season to worry about,” he said.

Three teens approached Johnson for an autograph after the workout, but were not encouraged to linger.

Seagrave keeps Johnson moving to avoid local reporters and curiosity seekers. Tempe has four high schools and Johnson can be found training at any one of them.

“Tempe is blessed with the best quality high school tracks in the country,” Seagrave said.

Johnson also is training in nearby desert parks and hills as well as a small track in nearby Chandler.

He has said he hopes to regain the form that will lead to world-class times.

The International Amateur Athletics Federation, the world’s governing body for track and field, also revoked Johnson’s previous world record of 9.83, which was set at the 1987 World Championships in Rome.

Johnson’s troubled past, however, seems forgotten when he runs.

Seagrave said Johnson has surprised him during their short relationship that they hope will culminate with a medal in the 1992 Olympics at Barcelona, Spain.

“A lot of people haven’t bothered to look at the depth of Ben Johnson,” Seagrave said. “It takes a lot of courage to do what he is doing after what happened.

“He is not obsessed, just very motivated to excel.”

That motivation is evident. Johnson, typically shy, did not exchange much more than a few words with Seagrave.

As he ran down the track, he stared soberly ahead.

Perhaps the most striking picture is Johnson’s finely cut physique, which has not changed much during the suspension.

Johnson’s timing may be off, but his strength apparently is not.

Seagrave said that Johnson, who grew up in Jamaica before moving to Toronto, continued to train through the suspension.

The coach would like to forget the past, too. Seagrave refused to answer questions about Johnson’s drug use.

“That’s a time when I didn’t coach Ben,” he said. “That’s something I don’t know about.”

Johnson passed at least four drug tests during his suspension, but the stigma does not disappear so easily. During a government inquiry into drugs and sport after Seoul, it was revealed that Johnson had used steroids since 1981.

His coach of 12 years, Charlie Francis, said Johnson gained about a meter from such use.

That will be best proven when he competes again, his debut being Jan. 11 at an indoor meet in Hamilton, Canada. Then he will run Jan. 18 at the Sunkist meet in Los Angeles.

Seagrave said Johnson does not get his strength from his size.

“Like a lot of great sprinters, he gets it from his nervous system,” the coach said.

After Johnson finished his final sprint, received the last rub of a thigh muscle, he put on a purple T-shirt and gray sweats.

He walked to the track’s grass infield and, spotting a soccer ball, gave it a swipe.

The ball went bounding to the far corner of the stadium, coming to a halt away from the bleachers.

Away from it all.

Satisfied, Ben Johnson turned and walked away.