A Year in the Life of a Vagabond Runner

You may have already read this year in the life of a vagabond runner but only as a serial novella.

Here is the whole enchilada, en toto, so to speak. Unedited. Perhaps some popcorn.

Think of me as Jann Wenner and the role of Tom Wolfe is played by Bob Hodge.

Or, for you movie lovers, I am Coppola and Robert is Martin Sheen headed upriver.

Hodgie-san did all the writing while I provided some backup humming.

Does that sound gay, I wonder.

Olympic Bust: Boston 1979–Boston 1980

Here’s Bob.

This memoir is the story of one momentous year in the life of a young runner, starting from the thrill and reward of a third-place finish in the 1979 Boston Marathon and ending with the gut punch of learning that the United States would not send me or anyone to the 1980 Summer Olympics, followed by a disappointing “did not finish” in the Boston Marathon just one year after nearly attaining the summit of glory. It is the story of a crash course in life and elite-level running for a young man, with many lessons learned in both, and in the following pages I will take you along for all of the uphill climbs and downhill runs of my chase to catch the satisfaction and recognition that comes with reaching the ranks of the world’s best long-distance runners.

The running world was a different place then, so many years ago, and it was experiencing rapid growth—especially in road racing and in particular in the Boston Marathon, reverently and concisely referred to as “Boston” in that world. Around New England, when you told someone that you were a distance-running competitor the first question that they would ask was “Have you run Boston?” As a new runner in high school participating in cross country and in track & field, the first running event that I ever heard of outside of that experience was the Boston Marathon. “Shamateurism” still ruled Olympic sports, but there were cracks in the armor. Athletes were pushing for prize money and open professionalism, and over the next decade it began to happen, even eventually in that bastion of amateurism, Boston.

The “Olympic Boycott” of 1980 that so shaped my life helped to push professionalism along. If athletes could work at something for years and hope to travel and represent their country in international competition only to have the rug pulled out from under them when it was time for the biggest competition of all, the Olympic Games, then remuneration or retirement from athletics became the choices.

I was a good runner until Boston 1979. After that race I found myself to be one of the best in the country. Say that again. One of the best in the country. It was a bit shocking to have my dream come to fruition.

I followed up that Boston Marathon success with a podium finish in the National Cross Country Championships in the fall, and it was clear I was on a roll. It would turn out December of 1979 was the pinnacle of the dream – too soon dope slapped out of me, walking out of my head, as I walked off the course during Boston 1980.

It had been a pivotal year in my young life. In 1979 I grew into adulthood as a runner and ascended as a competitor to a near peak of perfection.

Now at age 65 I can look back and comprehend this idea, but back then I had no notion what was in store for me.

I moved from my hometown of Lowell, Massachusetts, to Hanover, Massachusetts, in 1978 to work in a retail running emporium called The Runnery. The owner of this establishment was Sharpless Jones, a raconteur with many hopes and dreams and plans and schemes. I had known him as a friend for some time, and there seemed to be some flexibility with the work hours to allow for training and trips to competitions around the country and abroad. His business partner Stevie Calder looked every bit the part of a runner, and in fact when we began to run together in the winter of 1979, Stevie qualified for Boston and then ran a 2:49 in it.

Another running partner and friend of mine, Earle Fucillo, was a truck driver for Hendries’ Ice Cream and was a Runnery regular. Earle, at age 40, who seemed so ancient to me then, also ran in the 2:40s at Boston. Without their support and friendship, well, things just would not have been the same.

Of course, I had been running with the Greater Boston Track Club (GBTC) since 1975, and I would go to Boston at least once per week to run on the track or over the Boston Marathon course with them. The club included Bill Rodgers, Greg Meyer, Randy Thomas, Danny Dillon, Vinnie Fleming, Dickie Mahoney, Scotty Graham, Brad Hurst, Gary Wallace, and Freddy Doyle, just to name a few.

We were competitive with other clubs around the country and among ourselves. I particularly liked to challenge Randy, who had in turn been challenging Bill. When Greg joined us from Michigan, I knew that would be an asset to all of us, but I also wanted to beat him when we raced. Mike Roche also joined us around that time, moving up from New Jersey. They were both sponsored by New Balance and were brought on board by Randy. They both had better resumés than I did and were paid accordingly. Because of this fact, I ran with a bit of a chip on my shoulder.

When I first moved to Hanover I was homeless and did not own a car. I lived a gypsy life, with Sharpless finding me temporary quarters staying with his grandmother in Scituate or with other friends. At some point I set up housekeeping in the basement of the store. Eventually I found an apartment, located in the upstairs rooms of a house, that I could afford. It was in Hanover and was three miles from the store. My brother Mike helped me to move in.

I didn’t have much, and so it was easy. I loved having my own place even though it cost me dear. I had recently received a modest contract with New Balance Athletic Shoe, Inc. (thus the above-mentioned chip), and without that to go with my earnings working at the store I would not have been able to manage.

I biked to work and to the grocery store and so on. In the winter I ran to work or had someone pick me up. Earle and Stevie let me borrow their cars now and then so that I could go up to Lowell and visit friends and family without having to take the bus. One day in March Earle said to me, “Bobby, time for you to get your own wheels.” I replied, “I don’t think I can afford it, I have almost no savings.” But Earle “knew someone” and so we went to the dealership, where I picked out a 1969 Mustang that cost $1,500. I put down $100 and paid $100 per month to pay it off. Next Earle said, “Bobby, why don’t you have a credit card?” We went to the bank together and filled out the information, and I walked out with a MasterCard with a $400 credit limit. I was becoming an adult, and I wasn’t sure if I liked that.

My good friend “Stevie from Lowell,” as he was known by my running friends, came down occasionally, and we would meet up at Boston’s Eliot Lounge. At other times, the Eliot was our runners’ clubhouse, where we were welcomed by Tommy Leonard, our friend and supporter. I was on a roll and enjoying the support of this running network that surrounded me.

In February I traveled to Atlanta, Georgia, with the GBTC to run the International Cross Country Trials race. The first nine finishers would make the team headed for Limerick, Ireland. I finished 16th while Danny and Randy were 5th and 7th, respectively. I felt strong but had no leg turnover when I needed it. It was a real disappointment. I had run two indoor races at 5,000 meters in January, with mediocre results, and I was doing some decent track workouts, but I didn’t feel I was where I needed to be.

Next up on 4 March was the National 20-Kilometer (20K) Road Race Championship in Holliston, Massachusetts. On a frigid day with snow banks lining the roads, I ran in shorts and a singlet and painters’ gloves. I finished a close second to Randy in 60:44, with Jon Flora close behind me in third place. This was a promising result that gave me confidence in my training.

The following week I experienced pain and stiffness in my right knee that became more acute the farther that I ran. I backed off for a few days, which led to some dread and despair with Boston looming. I went back to my normal running routine, but for a while I ran alone and very slowly so as not to aggravate the injury. Ice, rest, aspirin, and prayers were my sports medicine before that became a thing.

I gave up running on the indoor track as the turns bothered my knee. Instead I traveled up to Boston on Wednesdays and ran from Boston College (BC), doing a 10–12-mile run in which I would pick up the Marathon course near Newton-Wellesley hospital; when I made the right-hand turn at the fire station in Newton to go back to BC I would drop down to 5-minute pace and basically “race the hills” or, as they say today, do a tempo run or threshold or what have you. No heart-rate monitors or gadgets, not even a stopwatch, just my old Timex watch with a second hand. I just metered out the effort. I did this on five occasions, once  incorporating it into a Sunday 20 miler. I had one more race planned, a 20K race on 1 April in Atlanta set up by the Nike shoe company as a “club challenge.” I decided beforehand that this would be a measured effort (I finished in 63:00); everything now was about BOSTON!

Boston Marathon 1979

I had been dreaming of a top-ten finish in this race, but I also visualized beating my teammate and friend Billy Rodgers, sneaking up on him from behind like the Reverend Jeff Wells did in 1978, only I would sweep past him for the victory. “Stevie from Lowell” and I had a plan for race weekend. I would meet him in Boston on Sunday, parking my car near the Eliot and leaving it overnight. I met Stevie at the Prudential Building where I needed to pick up my race number. When I had entered the race, I had personally delivered my entry to Jock Semple, who was then the race director, at his office in the old Boston Garden. He said in his Scottish brogue, “Doncha worry Bobby, I’ll make sure you have a low number even though you have the slow qualifier.” He then proceeded to toss my entry on his desk with hundreds of others. Now, at the “Pru,” I scoured the entry list taped to the wall: top 100, no…; top 200, no…, and so on. “Holy shit Stevie, he lost my entry” I exclaimed. After a minute he replied, “Here you are Hodgie, number 1066.” Since runners allowed to start from the head of the pack were always given low numbers, I could only hope I would be permitted to start up with them. I was worried. Spot some of the best runners in the world 100 or 200 yards? Why bother running then?

Stevie and I met some friends for dinner at the Newbury Steak House, a favorite haunt of ours. Afterward we headed to Hanover, and in the morning Stevie drove me to Hopkinton as he had in my first Boston attempt in 1977. He then headed to Boston, where we would meet up at the Sheraton Hotel.  Sharpless had booked a room so that we could go there and shower and relax after the race.

I went to the start area, and sure enough Jock saw my number and grabbed me by the arm. “Jock,” I said, “It’s Bob Hodge; you promised me a lower number.” Just then a few of my fellow competitors stepped in to intervene on my behalf, and Jock relented and left me alone so I could start at the front.

In a nutshell, I ran the “race of my life,” at least according to my old hometown newspaper in Lowell, coming in third place with a time of 2:12:30, which was a personal record for me by over 16 minutes. I made the front page of the Lowell Sun the next day. When I turned the last corner onto Hereford Street, Sharpless, who was sitting with race announcer Tom Grilk, excitedly announced “holy shit it’s Hodgie” to the crowd.

I knew that I was capable, and when GBTC coach Bill Squires saw me at Lake Street 21 miles in he told me that I could get third place and challenged me to go for it and not be content or overly cautious. “Go after it Bobby” were his motivational words as I passed by. Buoyed by his confidence in me, I did just that. Boston Globe sportswriter Joe Concannon had picked me in his top ten, and it felt good to somewhat exceed expectations that even the knowledgeable followers had for me. The GBTC had four runners in the top ten.

I hung around in the Prudential Garage for a while, talking with Boston 1968 winner and Runner’s World journalist Amby Burfoot and some other media types. Once I got my warm gear on, I was anxious to get to the Sheraton and celebrate with my friends. I missed the awards ceremony completely, and race director Will Cloney, who lived close to me in Scituate, had my trophy in the trunk of his car for months. One day he pulled up in his car beside me while I was running, and I asked him to please drop it at the RUNNERY for me. The trophy’s odyssey ended when my wife and I moved to Clinton, Massachusetts, 30 years ago. Since then it has resided on a ledge in my basement, the runner broken off by the leg and lying beside the base covered in cobwebs.

A night of debauchery followed at the Eliot Lounge. The next morning, I was back to work at the RUNNERY resoling shoes. But not for long. My friend Franny Coffey came by and talked with Sharpless, and the next thing I knew we were on our way back to Boston for lunch at Jimmie’s Harborside and another evening at the Eliot. Later in the week my GBTC teammates Randy and Dickie and I were included in Bill Rodgers Day in Boston with a ceremony at Faneuil Hall and a Mayor’s proclamation read by Tommy Leonard. This was heady stuff for this young Lowellian expatriate. I was 23 years old, and my grand plan was working. Overnight, instead of my neighbors looking at me with pity and horror having watched me run twice per day year after year, they were now asking me to give talks at their schools and Chambers of Commerce, of all places for a vagabond runner to speak. Of course, they never offered me any remuneration. It wasn’t as if I played for the Red Sox. In the aftermath of my Marathon success, I was also invited to many races. Fortunately or unfortunately, my life became more complicated. It was a watershed moment.

Bay to Breakers 1979—Just Watch Me

In early May of 1979, I was basking in the afterglow of my recent third-place finish in the Boston Marathon. Yet I didn’t consider myself a marathoner; I was a runner and I still had many other goals, whether it was track racing at all distances or cross country or road racing. After all, I had only run two marathons: one good and one bad. I was planning to run 10,000 meters on the track in the Tom Black Classic Track Meet in Knoxville, Tennessee, and hoped to qualify for the outdoor Track Nationals to be held in California. Then I received a call from Ron Wayne in California.

Ron, a Massachusetts native from Brockton, won the New England Cross Country crown in high school and the College New England crown while at the University of Massachusetts Amherst. Ron also finished fourth in the 1977 Boston Marathon. As I recall, Ron was doing some work with the Bay to Breakers Road Race in San Francisco and called to see if I had any interest in running there. It would be run the same weekend as the Tom Black meet, and so initially I thought no. Then he mentioned a $1,000 appearance fee. Up until this time I had never changed my plans or goals to run just for money, but a grand? It was a difficult decision, but I could not afford to turn it down. That was two and one-half months of pay or four months of rent! If I had gone to Tom Black, my shoe company sponsor New Balance or the GBTC would pay my airfare and hotel and I would pay any other related expenses. This was a problem with trying to compete on the track. There were too few opportunities and virtually no money except for those who were the cream of the crop.

So I went to this crazy event known as the Bay to Breakers. Ron Wayne hosted me at his home and carted me around to some different appearances I made on behalf of promoting the race. One sponsor was the makers of this newfangled watch called a Casio. I appeared at a department store while wearing a Casio, and I actually signed an autograph or two. Later I went for a run on the race course, with some media in tow snapping photos as we went. The next day there was a photograph in the San Francisco Chronicle of me on the Hayes Street hill stopping to stretch against a telephone pole. The caption made a joke of me against the pole—funny.

Ron was a great host; he would run the same 10–12-mile loop every morning from his apartment in Alameda with me tagging along. Then we would come back and eat toast, epic amounts of toast. One morning a small earthquake tremor occurred while we were having our toast. It was my first, and I felt nauseous for a bit afterward.

On race day I headed to the start and warmed up. It was chaotic and there were many “characters” dressed in costumes and some people running naked. I had no idea who the top competitors would be, and, after the gun sent us off, people in front of the start were cutting into the race from side streets in droves. I was pushing my way through this mob for much of the first mile. When I finally broke free of this pack I spotted a centipede with the Reebok Aggies in it! There were some good runners in that thing, and they were still ahead of me. As I ran by them, to my surprise they cheered me on by name: “Go get ’em Hodgie!”  I asked, “Is there anyone else up ahead?” They replied, but I could not really hear them, and so I kept my foot on the gas. I passed someone on the Hayes Street hill, possibly John Moreno, and then I found my comfort zone and cruised home for the win.

It is always nice to win, but I was not enamored with this race. I thought, “Geezus, what a carnival; I am part of a circus act here.” My first-place award was a Casio watch, and so now I had two. I figured I could ditch the old Timex I had for many years. Len Wallach, the race director whose invitation brought me to San Francisco, wrote the history of the race from 1906 to1978 (called The Human Race), and in a copy he inscribed a nice note to me, marking the occasion of my victory. I heard later through Ron that Len was not entirely happy with me as I wasn’t “dynamic” enough and never sent him a thank-you note. Oh well, boo hoo. I did return the next year to less fanfare, which was fine with me. Len invited Craig Virgin, who won the race. I finished third.

On returning to Boston, I saw that some friends who were there to pick me up at the airport were holding signs that said, “Welcome home Bay to Breakers Champion”—very embarrassing and highly appreciated. Next stop was the Eliot Lounge, where “the guru” Tommy Leonard so admired the Casio on my wrist that I gave it to him, telling him about the second one I had in my bag. I was rewarded with a “Holy cow, Bobby, really? Thank you!” The next day back at home in Hanover, I unpacked my bag: no Casio, not even a Timex. I had checked my bag and been ripped off! I went out and bought another cheap Timex; good enough.

City to Surf in Sydney, Australia

As a result of having won the Bay to Breakers race in May of 1979, I was invited to compete in a sort of “sister” race in Sydney, Australia, called the City to Surf. I had been having a busy summer, with invitations to all sorts of athletic-related events because of the media attention brought on by my run at Boston. This was nice, but I had a job and I began to feel that I was taking too much time away from it. We had begun a shoe re-soling business at the store, of which I was in charge. In my absence the shoes piled up awaiting my return. Returning from trips around the world to a pile of smelly shoes was not a thrill for me either. The people I worked for had been great, and I would have to be careful to take the needs of the job into consideration before I took any more time away from the store.

This situation led me to do one of the dumber things I have ever done. That was to travel from Boston to Sydney for the weekend. I had heard about jet lag, but I was young and naïve. I didn’t think that it would affect me. It is 24 hours of flying time to Sydney. I flew from Boston to San Francisco, where I had to stay overnight to wait for my passport and secure a visa, which I had forgotten to do ahead of time. This delay eliminated the one day that I had planned for relaxation and sightseeing. From San Francisco, I had to fly to Los Angeles, where I would connect with my flight to Australia. I stayed in a motel near the airport so that I would be able to catch my early morning flight easily. As it turned out, I never received my wake-up call, missed my flight, took a later one, and barely made the first leg of my flight to Australia. The flight attendants argued for 5 minutes about whether they should allow me on the plane. I was finally walked across the runway and put aboard the plane, flying from Los Angeles to Honolulu to Pago Pago to Sydney, all of which were 5-hour flights, with about an hour layover between each one.

On my flight from Honolulu to Pago Pago, a Samoan native who weighed about 300 pounds sat right beside me. He told me his entire life story. When we landed in Pago Pago for refueling, I took off my shirt and put on my running shoes and ran up and down the runway for 10 minutes in the 100° heat and humidity. I left my bag—passport, wallet, and all—with the Samoan guy, and surprisingly I never worried about him not being there when I got back. The airport in Pago Pago is like the airport on Nantucket Island. The huge B-747 was like the skyline of Manhattan beside the thatched hut that served as the terminal building. In a situation like this, I needed a beer, maybe two. The Samoan was good company, and I almost forgot why I was going to Sydney.

I arrived there on a Friday evening. I was a physical wreck. A shoe company representative from the company that I represented in Boston picked me up at the airport and took me directly to a running seminar. I sat there for about 2 hours answering questions on training, proper diet, etc. Me, who had just finished drinking a dozen beers a few hours ago after 36 hours of mind-bending travel. I slept a solid 12 hours that night, not awakening once. The next day I went for a run over the course on which we would race on Sunday. Afterward I was shown some of the sites in Sydney.

I had no idea what to expect in the race, but I wasn’t feeling too bad, all things considered. The race was very similar to the Bay to Breakers, with over 20,000 runners. I went out very fast to avoid being trampled and was soon in the lead. I ran the first part of the course quite recklessly and was really suffering at the 12-kilometer mark of the 14-kilometer race. I was aware that someone was gaining on me. I was holding on desperately, but the Australian runner Bill Scott (2:11; 27:55) [Bob, what are these times? PRs for marathon and 5 miles/10K?] swept past and beat me handily. I was disappointed but knew that I had run well to finish in second place.

I had a very nice time that evening at the postrace party, although there was one trying moment when the folks with whom I was staying wanted to take a picture of me with their wild “dingo” dogs. When we approached the cage, they were snarling and frothing at the mouth, but this guy just opened the cage, wacked them on the snout, and then motioned for me to get into the cage with him. They just had to have their picture, and luckily I survived it!

The next morning, after a short run and a swim in the surf (I was told afterward about the sharks), I left for Boston. It was 9 AM Monday morning. I traveled the same route back to Los Angeles, arriving there on Monday at 9 AM! There was a bit of a tense moment in customs at the Honolulu Airport. I had traveled to Sydney with just one very small nylon bag, just big enough to fit my running gear and a toothbrush and a book (Shogun). When I was asked by the customs agent if this was all that I had, I replied, “Yeah, I like to travel light.” I suppose he thought that I was a wise guy, and so he detained me a bit and went through my stuff. I also was lugging around a huge trophy, which I kept trying to get rid of. One time, I left it in the men’s room, but a few minutes later some guy ran up to me and shouted “Sir, you forgot your trophy”; another time, I left it near a rubbish bin, but the same thing happened. I ended up having to lug the monster all the way home. From Los Angeles I traveled directly to Boston and was back to work at the store the next day. The following day, the trip really hit me, and I felt awful for a week afterward. I would not take jet lag for granted again.

1979 National Cross Country Championships in Raleigh, North Carolina

In the fall of 1979, a long-term goal for the GBTC was accomplished and I made the podium again. The GBTC as we knew it thus ended on a high note. I had joined the Greater Boston Track Club in 1974, and for every year after that our primary goal in the fall was the National Cross Country Championship in November. The original mission of this club was to provide opportunities for postcollegiate athletes, many of whom were already at or close to a nationally competitive level—for example, to qualify for the National Track & Field Meet or the Olympic Trials.

Jack MacDonald, the club founder and mastermind, brought Coach Bill Squires on board from his day job at Boston State College. A loose group of mostly middle-distance and distance men formed and would meet at Boston College weekly with Squires. Coach would dispense a workout subject to negotiation and change, and a nice bond of being in it together was formed.

Both the athletes and coach had jobs and lifestyles, families, and commitments, and so, although there was a seriousness toward the endeavor and specific objectives and goals were made, fun and enjoyment were a large part of the bargain. We were all grownups here, with one exception: Alberto Salazar, a precocious high schooler from Wayland, Massachusetts. Postworkout get-togethers over pizza and beer on occasion gave us all a chance to share our hopes and dreams and plans and schemes.

Coach was light hearted but also very dedicated to his teacher role, and he gave some of us more fatherly advice at times. When I returned from a trip across the country in 1977 Coach said, “Bobby, I’m glad you finally stopped picking daisies and got serious.” Somehow this easy-going formula, along with the commitment of Squires and MacDonald in securing what little finances they had at that time, caused the GBTC to just take off. Jack started a beach race, and the Freedom Trail Road Race was also formed by club members; these racers were fund raisers to send those athletes who were qualified to national events. Many times, we all just piled into cars and traveled as inexpensively as possible to New York City, the Penn Relays, and so on. It was a club by athletes for athletes. For some time, until running began to change, it worked very well.

Many of us became involved with athletic-shoe companies, and some were even employees or had received contracts and were ostensibly being paid to aid the company with feedback and ideas on shoe development. Nike had formed Athletics West in 1977 and had even tried recruiting Randy Thomas and Bill Rodgers from GBTC. Perhaps it was possible to make a career as a runner? It is impossible to say what would have become of my own running had it not been for GBTC. I think that perhaps I would still have had my successes, but I am happy not having to find out.

By 1979 Alberto, Greg Meyer, Danny Dillon, Randy Thomas, and I had all had our share of success. Alberto, now at the University of Oregon, was the 1978 NCAA Cross Country Champion, Greg was the 1978 AAU Cross Country Champion and 1979 Canadian Cross Country Champion, and Danny and Randy had tied for first in the International Cross Country Trials in 1978. We knew we had a very strong team even if Alberto ran for Oregon, as he had done in 1978, but we were all hoping he would run with us at AAU Nationals in 1979 for old times’ sake, and he did, although we weren’t sure of it until a few days before the event.

Alberto raced Henry Rono, and the GBTC mostly raced among ourselves at the Canadian Cross Country National in Halifax, Nova Scotia, where we won the team title, and at the New England Championships in Boylston, Massachusetts. Danny recollected, “I remember we sharpened each other in the races leading up to Nationals. I especially recall you, me, and Greg trading the lead several times on that rocky course at Boylston that wasn’t fit for Billy goats. We probably could have and should have tied or ran through those races, but I think that we were trying to get the most out of them to get ready for Nationals. When I think of that GBTC team I think several of us could visualize winning the individual title, and with a GBTC team like that I had no doubt we would win.” Danny was back at Providence College but sitting out the collegiate season. He was working out with John Treacy and others. I remember a group workout at Franklin Park, a workout that was just Greg and I at a Newton golf course, and a track workout the week before Nationals on a frigid night at Boston College in which Randy, Greg, and I did a 4:19 mile, an 8:56 two mile, and a 3:15 three-quarter mile. I believe there was some influence from the camp of University of Michigan coach Ron Warhurst as we had never previously done workouts like that.

Outside the GBTC top five, we had Pete Pfitzinger, who moved to Boston and joined GBTC in the summer of 1979. There was also Bruce Bickford, Bill Okerman, Mike Quinn, and Paul Oparowski. Both Danny and Greg remember some “trash talking” from the Coloradoans. The reaction of the locals was, “Boston don’t kowtow to nobody; the thin air in Boulder must be having an effect on their brains.”

A few weeks before the National competition, I changed shoe companies and was now running in the shoes of upstart company Reebok. The problem was that I had barely any shoes or clothing, including spikes. I grabbed a pair of Sauconys from the shelf at the RUNNERY and went to a nearby golf course for a light workout in them to make sure they would be okay. When I met everyone at the airport for the flight to Raleigh, I packed up a rucksack because I did not want to be seen in the gear of my former shoe company sponsor New Balance, including baggage. Alberto quipped, “Hodgie, are you going camping?”

On our arrival in Raleigh and after checking in at the hotel, we went out to view the course and have a run over it. It was a tough one, and I liked it—in particular, the steep uphill in the last mile. The start was nice and wide open for the mass start but soon funneled into a narrow path and a steep downhill run nearly to the mile marker, where Alberto was clocked at 4:08. He didn’t buy the time being that fast, but I was 4:10s and that seemed entirely possible to me. I was in a good position throughout the top dozen or so, as were Greg, Danny, and Randy. Alberto was at the front with Herb Lindsay and a few others. We ran close, as we had done in our previous races.

I knew we would win the team event, and I started to think grander thoughts for myself. I moved up steadily, and on the last long steep uphill I moved up to Herb Lindsay’s shoulder; we were second and third, with Alberto barely in sight 75 yards ahead. The last quarter mile was flat and slightly downhill, and I was windmilling my way to the finish with some very fast finishers just behind me. We kept those places, and Danny and Greg finished fourth and fifth right on our tails. Randy was 12^th, a half minute behind me. GBTC had done it; we won the big one! This had been a long-term goal of the club, accomplished after several years of trying. We all celebrated that evening, and we soon went our own ways. We would meet again often, no longer as teammates with GBTC but always with a nod to the past. It was not the breakup of the Beatles, but, you know, in our little world it was somewhat momentous.

Finishing out 1979

In September, I moved to Scituate, Massachusetts, taking up residence on Lighthouse Road near Scituate Harbor. My employer and friend Sharpless and I moved into a winter rental until Memorial Day weekend. It is a beautiful spot, with the ocean on one side of the street and the harbor on the other. The back of the house sat right on the harbor, and we had a few small boats in which to tool around. When my friend Brad came down, we took a dinghy out on the water and were spotted by Sharpless, who was rowing backwards. He laughed, shook his head at us, and said, “Lowell Yacht Club!” It was also a house and an area that had seen many fierce storms, including the Blizzard of 1978 in which someone had perished trying to escape the fury. But in September the temperatures were still warm and the breezes were gentle, with no hint of winter’s coming wrath.

I was already planning a trip south to Florida for January/February so that I would miss the most difficult months of New England weather. It was an important year, with the Olympic Marathon Trials set for 24 May 1980 in Buffalo, New York, and I was going all in to prepare. What kind of chance would I have of making the team? I had just turned 24 and had made great progress with my running: I was ranked eighth among Americans by Track &Field News. On the other hand, I had only run two marathons, the 1977 Boston in 2:28 and the 1979 Boston in 2:12. My chances rated a pull-out-all-the-stops approach. I hoped to continue to compete for a long while, but also a few bad races or a severe injury and it was over. This might be my only chance to ever make an Olympic Team, which was the pinnacle for all of us top-level runners and meant everything to me as an innocent who was not yet jaded and resigned to the fates. Besides, I was having a blast being a vagabond runner. I loved the lifestyle, and now with a bit of success I had a bit more financial security than I did in my former life on a shoestring. And I had that 1969 Mustang, which I planned to drive to Florida. I did not yet know it, but December 1979 was the pinnacle of that soon-to-be-dope-slapped dream.

I recently rediscovered my journal covering that period, including my lead-up to the Buffalo Olympic Marathon Trials. In looking back, I see that December was the ultimate high point of my naïve hopes and dreams, but at the time I was wearing rose-colored glasses. In part I was young, with a future about which I should only be optimistic in front of me and a bumpy road to a modest success behind me. In part, the future is indeed in the future, and thus is inscrutable. In the rest of this book I will from time to time include excerpts from that journal, unedited except for spelling and punctuation, to help the reader run with me on my journey to the Olympic trials. Here is the first entry.

December 9^th—Decided to begin keeping a journal on my preparations for the Olympic Trials on May 24^th, 1980 in Buffalo, NY. I have been doing steady mileage training for the last two weeks since the AAU Cross Country. My plans right now are to stick with roughly 110 miles a week until the middle of January with only fartlek or easy track and hill workouts. My next race will be a five-miler road race at the Runners World Invitational and a 15K track race on Jan. 2^nd neither of which I will train specifically for. In January I will drive down to Clearwater FL where I will train for three months. In February I will do the Ohme 30K in Japan. In late March track workouts and races specifically toward the Penn Relays 10K for qualifying time for trials. I hope to keep this journal of each day’s proceedings for the next 5 months as a general reference point for the future. I am sure that some days will be more complete than others due to lack of time or maybe enthusiasm.

Youth was a factor in my success, but also experience. I was lucky in that I had a great coach in Bill Squires and had been able to train with some of the best, and that is why I was now heading to Florida to run with some of those best and to be entirely focused in a winter-friendly environment. I never thought to go to altitude; if Florida was good enough for Bill Rodgers, Tom Fleming (two-time New York City Marathon winner), et al., it would do for me. I had no contacts or experience with altitude training at that time; otherwise I might have made a different choice.

December 9^th continued—Ran 22 miles alone; usual 17 loop, plus usual 5. Other guys never showed so went out at noon. Legs heavy from 14 on, windy and cold. Longest run since running Buffalo Marathon on October 18^th (this was a trial run I made over the Trials course). Longest week mileage-wise since August 26^th. Ate some brown bread and butter, crackers and cheese, and drinking pot of tea. Took a short nap on the couch. Planning on a quiet night and maybe a few beers. I’ve got this girl on my mind, which is kind of nice and kind of a nightmare.

Girls: I was afraid of them, I had no experience with them, I did not go to the prom, I had one blind date once, and I just “hung out” with a few friendly girls in my Lowell neighborhood. Correction, I did have few actual dates with a woman just before I met Frannie, God bless her. That woman joined the Peace Corps, and I never saw her again. My roommate Sharpy was a lady’s man and had nicknames for many of his girlfriends; one was the “blister:” “You see Hodgie, it’s like this; you know, when you get that constant irritation.”

December 11^th—Went out last night with Frannie to see the movie Breaking Away; afterwards had dinner, fish and vegetables and five beers. Went for run at 9 A.M. this morning over to Jamaica Pond; ran 10 miles 68 minutes; felt good. Weather has warmed in the 50’s; feels balmy after the cold weekend. Went to Boston College and had a shower; talked with Jack MacDonald who is considering working with Reebok Shoes, which would be great. Had breakfast at Aegean Fare in Cleveland Circle; cheese omelet, toast, and coffee. Meeting Dickie and Chuck Riley for a run later at BC. Will head to Eliot afterwards.

After a long weekend in Boston, staying at Frannie’s house in Brookline, I headed back to Scituate. I lived very hermitlike on the weekdays and visited Boston on the weekends. I was not getting on the track much now, just building consistent trials of miles for the Olympic TRIALS!

December 12^th—Weighed myself today for first time since August, weighed in at 124. My ankle tendon on my right foot has been sore, icing and aspirin. I had a short nap this afternoon then did 10 miler; feeling sluggish in the warmish weather. Had some soup and salad for dinner then hit the hay.

Winter was settling in, and the chilly wind and snow were whipping in Scituate Harbor. After a noontime 17-mile run over through Cohasset with training partner and friend Earle I was headed up to Boston to go to the Greater Boston Track Club Christmas party with Frannie.

December 16^th—Stayed over in Boston at Frannie’s house; party was a wild time. Woke up at 8 on Sunday morning after getting to bed at 3. Drove down to Earle’s and then went to Patriots football game. Spent the entire day just eating and drinking; roast beef, and later sandwiches ice cream etc.; got home at 10 and went right to bed. Did not run; day off.

December 17^th—Got up at 8 and went for 8-mile run. Brutally cold and windy. Temperature at 25 with 30-mile gusts of wind. Legs ache. My consolation on these days is my pending trip to FLA. For the entire miserable winter. Did some weight work: curls and, benches. Cereal and bananas for breakfast.

At this time I was living quite the gypsy life and had been for several years. As described earlier, I moved to the South Shore of Massachusetts from Lowell in the spring of 1978, not long after a 10-month trip around the country. I initially lived in the basement of the sporting goods store where I was employed in Hanover and later in an apartment in Hanover from which I moved to Scituate, a seasonal rental. In January I would leave for Florida for two months or more, including a 10-day stay in Japan in February. I was living large, doing something I loved, competing with the best, and avoiding for now the inevitable grind of a conventional life. But it was not all fun and games.

December18th—Went up to Reebok in Hingham for a run from the office there, 8 miles. Got some new shoes and got paid so I now feel like it’s official. Had a good talk with Paul Fireman and Jim Barclay, the principals in Reebok USA, and I now have a better understanding of what is going on with this venture I have signed on with. I think that things will go smoother now, better communication etc. I plan to write to Joe Foster in England, the founder of Reebok, and thank him for the shoes that he has made for me, which feel great and should work out very well. Went out for dinner; had fish for dinner many nights in a row now and vegetables, two beers, soup etc. A celebration kick-off with Reebok.

The running shoe wars were well alive with Adidas and Puma vying for the top athletes in Olympic track & field long before the running boom. The top athletes received payments, usually cash, in violation of amateur rules. Everyone was aware; hypocrisy was rampant. In the late 1970s I had decided to “go for it” and try to make the Olympic Team and/or win the Boston Marathon—my ultimate goals. There were not too many people with whom I could share my goals, given that they were not practical and did not involve a “real” profession. I would need to find a job, and right from the beginning that involved shoes.

First I worked in a shoe factory in Lowell, which had nothing to do with athletic shoes. I’m not sure how long I might have continued working there, although it did mesh okay with my athletic pursuits, but I needed to show solid progress toward my running goals to make the drudge of honest work at minimum wage bearable. By then I was a member of the Greater Boston Track Club, a group that was started by athletes for athletes in pursuit of goals beyond collegiate competition. Our common goal was to win the National Cross Country Championship, which we attained in 1979 as mentioned above. In 1978, New Balance Athletic Shoe, Inc., in Boston offered me a small contract to run in their shoes. New Balance had been supportive and provided me with shoes and clothing for training and competition. I had competed well against other athletes under contract there, and so I suppose they figured I was also worthy of support.

Then I won the Bay to Breakers Road Race in San Francisco and also won the invitation to Sydney to compete in the City to Surf Road Race, a sister race. New Balance invited me in to talk about my contract. I expected at least double the $5,000 I was currently making as I knew what other athletes made and thought I should now be paid accordingly. Before meeting with them, I was quite unexpectedly approached by a consultant working with upstart Reebok USA; this person owned a regional running publication and I think sold Reebok on the idea that I was the next Bill Rodgers. I met with Paul Fireman and Jim Barclay, who were partners in this venture. They offered me $10,000. At the meeting with New Balance, they offered me $8,000. Not being a person overly interested in money beyond my basic needs, I lacked the subtle art of negotiation wherein I would then ask for 12 and they would say 9 and we would settle on $10,000. So I walked out and signed with Reebok. It was a bit of an ordeal over the next few years that I was with them, but I ran some good races, had some lifetime personal records, and also hit rock bottom with injury. Every grand plan has a few bumps in the road.

The Christmas Season was upon us now and I had no use for it. I always hated the commercialization hysteria and hoopla. It interfered with my little hermit running life, and so I could not wait for it to be over.

December 19^th—Went to Assinippi General Store [in Hanover] for breakfast of pancakes and made some phone calls. Made it up to Boston around noon and went for 15 mile run with Billy and Vinny. After, went to lunch with Greg and Bill Roach at Aegean Fare and got Greg’s check to him for travel to AAU Cross Country. Went on the Jingle Bell run from BC. Reebok put a lot into it, hiring a Rolls Royce, but I think it gave them some notice and good will. They are trying to woo Bill Rodgers to run for them, which would be great. Had quite a few beers and then hit the sack with Frannie. December 20^th—Got up early and went to Lowell with Vinnie and Randy to do a talk for the local Chamber of Commerce at a restaurant, JP Donahue. Rob McGregor was also there. It was pretty low key, with us talking while everyone ate breakfast. My Uncle Charlie was there, which was a nice surprise, with his son Ed’s wife. Felt tired all day with sore throat. Drove back from Lowell to Melrose, where we went for a 7-mile run on which I never felt good. After, Vinnie and I went to a shopping mall to do the dreaded Christmas shop doodoo. Met Frannie later and gave her a ride to the airport; she is headed to Indianapolis for Christmas with family. Traffic was crazy; finally made it home, made some pasta, and put feet up with ice on ankles. Planning lots of zzz’s tonight.

We all have a peak of power, a peak of innocence, and a peak of wonder. Until we are old and mature we are not sure when and what that peak was or whether we have hit it yet. For me, 1979/1980 at age 23/24 was a big turning point in my life.

December 22^nd—Got up at 9:00 which was a bit of a struggle after going to the Celtics game last night and not getting home until 2. I met some old friends from Lowell at the game and went out for beers. I was supposed to go to Vinnie’s house for a party after the game, but I thought too much: I can’t burn the candle at both ends, as I find out time and again. Got in 10 miler this morning, going out again at three for another 10. I have bad sore throat; drinking lots of tea and honey. Went out to the bank, made some calls, and finished the shopping doo doo.

December 23^rd—Good night’s sleep last night; did 20 miler this morning with Gene Morris, went out at 11:00. Sore throat persistent and feeling tired. Heading up to Lowell soon for Christmas with family and friends.

December 25^th—Went over to Stevie’s house last night and ate, drank, and talked with old friends; got home around 2. Got up at 11 and opened gifts with my parents; went out for 10 miler at noon; felt good. Throat still raw and having some coughing fits. Spent all day at brother Mike’s house eating and drinking like mad. Went to visit Stevie for a while then came back and took parents home. Hit the hay at 11.

It was always nice but odd to be back in Lowell visiting family. Since I had moved away and run so well at Boston and then traveled to Europe and Australia, coming back reminded me of my old life, and I was focused on the future. I never thought of Lowell as so bad ass, but whenever I told people on the South Shore that I grew up in Lowell their reaction would be mock horror.

December 27^th—Slept 11 hours last night, much needed. Went for 8 miler this morning; need to run some errands and finish article for New England Running. Met Earle at three in the afternoon and jogged over to Norwell High School track, not too cold but very windy. Ran five repeat miles at an average of 4:50; working hard but good to get it in.

December 28^th—Got up at 8 and went out to buy a newspaper. I had a bit of a rough time sleeping last night with a bad cough. Went out for breakfast at the Assinippi General Store then went to Reebok office for a meeting. I got some shoes and a running suit for my trip. Went out at one with Earle for 17 miler through Cohasset; extremely windy. Heading up to Boston tonight to stay at Frannie’s; leave for California RW National Running Week events tomorrow.

New Year’s Day 1980: The Beginning of the Bell Lap

Runner’s World magazine organized a National Running Week in California, and I had been invited to participate. I had spent three of the last four years running 25 miles on New Year’s Day from the Eliot Lounge in Boston to a house party in Scituate, which also happened to be my current abode. I was kind of sad to miss that run and was not really feeling in a racing frame of mind coming off the fall cross country and road-racing season. What I really wanted was to go into hibernation in my training camp in Scituate Harbor and later in Florida to which I planned to drive in January.

My possibly only chance to make an Olympic Team was still calling, however, and this event might help with that goal. I had just begun what would be a rocky relationship with newly formed Reebok USA; one of their representatives, David Jenkins from the United Kingdom, would be there at this Running Week, and I was to meet with him. Also, the week would get solid media coverage, and it was an opportunity to promote the brand. There were many panels with different coaches and athletes, yoga instructors, purveyors of wonder vitamins, and so on. It was a real confab—the beginning of huckster promoters and Svengali coaches catching the running-boom wave.

I would get to mingle with many great runners and athletes and compete in two races: a 5-mile road race and a 15K track race. I was more motivated for the 15K, perhaps because it was a unique event to be held on the track at Stanford Stadium on New Year’s Day. Essentially though, I was already looking forward to heading south soon in my ’69 Mustang and building my fitness.

Why Florida? Well I had no experience with altitude and didn’t have any contacts in altitude places, and I also knew that Bill Rodgers, Tom Fleming, and others would be available running mates in Florida. My former college coach George Davis had put me in contact with his brother in Clearwater, and so I had a place to stay with his young family for some indeterminate amount of time while I prepared for the Marathon Trials in May.

A few days before leaving for California, I did a track workout outdoors on a frigid afternoon, running five repeat miles in 4:50. I did the workout in my new racers, Reebok World Ten’s; although they felt great, I began to develop a soreness in my heel area (http://www.bunnhill.com/BobHodge/TrainingLogs/training79.htm).

December 29^th—Got up at 7 and went for 8 mile runout around Jamaica Pond. Had a quick shower and some coffee and then Frannie took me to the airport. Sat with Patti & Joe Cat on the plane. Arrived in CA at 1 and went for a short run at 2:30. Heels have been bothering me since last week’s workout on the track in the Reebok World Ten. After run and shower went to sit on a panel with Herb Lorenz, Randy Thomas, and Grete Waitz at 4. Went out for dinner, had a few beers, and went to bed at 11 zapped.

December 30^th—Decided to skip morning run and just relax and ice foot. I have had a hard last four weeks of running, and the little aches and pains are catching up with me. I plan to take it easy the next few days and run a fairly hard one in the 15K Track race at Stanford Track. This afternoon is the 5 mile race, which I just plan to run through.

I traveled to Palo Alto, California, on Saturday; I sat with Patti Dillon on the plane (always a pleasure) and her former husband. The 5-mile road race was the next day. I intended to just run it, and I ran 24:10 only because it was a bullet of a course. I finished way back and didn’t give it much of a thought until Bob Anderson asked me later if I had been sick. I bit my tongue and held my thoughts, which were not kind.

December 30^th—continued. Ran 24:10 at the five miler, faster than I wanted but felt good. Grabbed a sandwich and went to the Awards Ceremony. Went with Bob Wischnia from RW to his house for a hot tub and then later out for Mexican food. Felt tired; went back to room and watched Rocky 2 on TV, asleep at midnight.

I had one day before the 15K, and I ran 11 miles in the morning around the Palo Alto hills with Randy Thomas, Tom Fleming, Amby Burfoot, Tom Derderian, and Dave Murphy. In the evening I went out alone for another 8 miler (http:// http://www.bunnhill.com/BobHodge/TrainingLogs/training79.htm).

December 31^st—Got up at 8 and went for 75 minute run up and around Stanford with Randy, Tom Fleming, Amby, Tom Derderian, and Dave Murphy. Wore my rain suit, and I was really too warm. Felt heavy in shoulders and heavy legged. Went out for a big breakfast afterward and went to a program on yoga for runners. Bob Anderson of RW asked me if I was sick after the five mile race performance on Sunday. I think he is a bit sick. The 15K track race is bound to be a disaster for me tomorrow but possibly a good workout. Went out for an 8 miler in the evening; felt a bit better than this morning. Ran a bit much for the day before a race but the psych just isn’t there for this race. Probably should have gone a bit easier the last few days; not looking to run anything stellar, just a hard workout.

The race was on 1January 1980 and provided a good start to the year. As the race developed, Dick Quax of New Zealand started pulling away on the first lap with his eye set on records. Martii Kiilhoma, a Finn, ran in second a ways behind, and I led most of the rest of the pack in third. I tried to maintain 70-second laps, but I drifted off the pace a bit. I felt good but not super confident, so I let them go. With a few laps remaining, I nearly caught Kiilhoma, but he pulled away again on the last lap and ran a Finnish record. I came in third in 44:00, which was a (short lived) American Record. Bill Rodgers had run 43:39.8 previously, but because the paperwork had not been finalized yet and the Runner’s  World event was ratified first, I briefly held the record.

January 1^st—Went out and played it fairly cool last night. Went to a sort of dull party. Had about 7 or 8 beers and hit the hay around 1. Got up at 8 this morning and went for coffee with Tommy D., Amby, and TF. Ran 3 miles out to the Stanford Track and ran 15K in 44:00, good for third and a new AR or is it? Happy with this run; was not expecting much. Went out for many beers afterwards and Jacuzzi at Bob Anderson’s house. Went to Marathon Clinic in the evening.

[Bob, are Bob Wischnia and Bob Anderson different people from RW, both with hot tubs? Also, you had this entry in twice, with slightly different wording. I wasn’t sure which version to use; do you want to check against the original?]

The next day I had an early morning meeting with David Jenkins, who I had already briefly met a few days before when he gave me some Reebok spikes. We met for breakfast in the hotel in which I was staying, and from the get go this guy was a ball of fire, talking a mile a minute. I sat there and took him in. He was very pleased that I wore the new spikes that he gave me in the 15K, and as we ate breakfast he shared with me one incredible story after another.

Jenkins was a European Champion in the 400 meters and an Olympic Silver Medalist. We both ate a very substantial breakfast, and when the waitress came to remove our plates, she asked, “Will there be anything else?” Jenkins said, “Yes, I would like that again please; how about you, Bobby?” Well, never one to turn down an eating challenge, I said, “Sure, me too.” There is a fascinating interview with Jenkins in the Scotsman (https://www.scotsman.com/sport/athletics/from-gold-and-silver-to-drugs-and-jail-david-jenkins-never-ran-from-fate-1-2400561). I highly recommend this one.

January 3rd—Got up at 9; first real solid night’s sleep this week. Took it easy all day, icing foot, resting, and reading. I did go out for a ride with Tommy D. and Joanie Benoit to San Gregorio and walk by the ocean, which is beautiful. Last night was the Nurmi Awards Banquet. Came right back to hotel after and hit the hay about 10. Not being able to train normally is making me crazy here amongst all of these great runners. I need to get over this bump in the road and be patient so that my buildup for the trials will go smoothly.

January 4^th—Did not accomplish much last two days, resting and icing my heel. It seems all I have been doing is eating. Went to the indoor meet at Cow Palace. The week has been productive overall, just being here with all of these different runners and getting their feelings and vibrations on everything.

January 5^th—Up at 8 went for run with Patti & Joe Cat. Went for 32 minutes; heel felt good. I called Bob Davis in FLA to check in and let him know my ETA. I am excited now, raring to go after a few days off and an easy week of running. When I get to FLA I will have 5 weeks to prepare for Japan. Catching an afternoon flight back to Boston.

January 6^th—Arrived back home last night and stayed up late drinking beer with Frannie and Stevie Calder at home. I slept until noon, and then Frannie and I and Stevie went out for an easy 8-mile run. My heel feels pretty good. I feel confident that I will be back to heavy training soon. I need to tie up a few loose ends and then head to FLA.

January 8^th—To sum up last three days… Frannie was down Friday-Monday and I took her home this morning. Yesterday Jean Duvoisin came over and brought some Reebok Luggage for me. We spent the day talking things over, situation with Reebok etc. We went out and bought a slide projector so that I can work on a presentation while I am down in FLA. Frannie made dinner for Jean and I, and we went through his many running slides, choosing some for my show. Today I made some phone calls and packed up the Mustang. Tonight having dinner out with Sharpless and Steve.

As I loaded up the Mustang for the trip to Florida, I thought about just how much I enjoyed having this car, like a cowboy and his horse. I had never been overly into cars, but this one was special for some reason; it had many firsts attached to it. Sharpless drove a Mercedes 280 SL, a 1967 model, and it was a beauty. I drove it on many occasions, and it had immense power and handling over anything I had experienced. I suppose at the time having a car meant freedom, especially after doing without for a while. Sharpless was like an older brother—the older brother that I had lost in Vietnam. He got to know my family when I invited them to Scituate and from the Eliot Lounge. Sharp was a character, part Jackie Gleason with a big heart.

I left Scituate and headed south with just a few maps and no solid plans to stop at any places in particular. I would drive until mid-late afternoon each day and try to find accommodation where I would have a place to run. At this point, I will let my journal tell much of the story of my trip and my first few weeks in Florida as I prepared for a race in Japan.

January 9^th—I had a nice dinner last night in Boston with Sharp, Steve, Vinnie, Brad, T.L., and Don Facey. They all wished me luck for my trip to Florida and Japan. I got up at 7 this morning and ran six miles; heel is still sore so it was a struggle. I had some coffee with Guy and Sharp and then hit the road. It was an OK trip down to Brunswick NJ, which took about 6 hours for the 300 mile trip. I went out for a 30 minute run and then swam in the pool until exhaustion and then Jacuzzi. Feel pretty good but anxious about the heel. I called my Dad for a chat then went to the restaurant for dinner: chicken pot pie, salad, and tea. I hit the hay early.

January 10^th—I got up at 8:30, packed up, and left at 9:30. Mostly uneventful day; made it down to Richmond VA. I went for a half hour run; heel sore; iced afterward. Plan on running just 30 minutes the next few days. Staying at a Holiday Inn; had corned beef and cabbage for dinner. Tomorrow plan to leave early and hopefully make it at least to Georgia.

January 12^th—Drove all day yesterday from Richmond VA to this Holiday Inn at Jackson Beach FLA. 650 miles. I made pit stops in Florence VA for breakfast and someplace in South Carolina for apple pie and ice cream. Also stopped in Savannah GA for a cheeseburger, apple pie, and ice cream. Went for a walk on the beach when I got here, and had a beer in the lounge. Then I lay around icing my heel; asleep at 10. Got up at 8 this morning and went for a 6 mile run on the beach. I wore an old pair of Nike Boston racers and heel felt good on the sand. Went for a swim in the ocean after the run; temperatures very warm, too warm for the rain suit I wore. I did some stretching and calisthenics and iced my foot. Called Bob Davis and told him I expect to be in Clearwater by around 6 tonight. I will try and run on the beach as much as possible down here to keep the pressure off the heel. Having big breakfast omelet then heading out.

January 13^th—Drove from Jacksonville to Clearwater, leaving yesterday at noon. It took about 5 hours. I met Bob at a Bennigan’s Pub, and we had a beer and then went back to his place for a spaghetti dinner. Today Bob took me on a tour of the area, showing me some preferred places to run. The beach at Dunedin is 6 miles away. It is a very nice area and should be fine for running. Bob and his wife are very nice and have opened up their house to me. I am going for a short run in a while to test out my heel.

At this time I had become very worried about my sore heel, as it seemed to be becoming chronic. This was a time when I felt very alone, not having access to physical therapists or resources to help with injuries that naturally occur with athletes. If I were in a truly professional sport I would have that kind of support, but it was just another part of the struggle, the battle going on within me day in and day out.

January 14^th—Went for an hour run last night; felt good. The weather is very humid, and I am trying to adjust; it will take some time. Bob and his wife have two young children who are adorable but can also be a pain. I fear I have disrupted their lives. Went for 5 miles this morning; heel sore. Icing, relaxing, and planning another run tonight. I will need to settle into some routine for the next four weeks at least.

January 15^th—Went out for second 6 mile run yesterday afternoon; heel was sore. Went out to a sporting goods store with Bob and picked up some heel cups. I tried them out this morning and they feel great; best my heel has felt in a long while. Later ran 1 hour on the beach barefoot at a good clip. We had some veggie burgers and potatoes and corn for dinner and some tea.

January 16^th—Weather continues warm and beautiful; went 5 this morning and then 1 hour barefoot run on the beach. Very hot out there with the sun beating down; nice jump in the surf afterward. I had some salad and bread and a couple of beers for dinner. Hit the hay at 10.

January 17^th—Up at 8; went for 5 miles; hay fever allergies becoming bothersome. I wrote some cards and letters and in the evening; ran at the beach for one hour. I talked to Jean on the phone this morning, and he says they are getting some brutal weather back home. Jean went over my mail with me and is forwarding some papers down here to me.

Jean Duvoisin was the person responsible for getting me matched up with Reebok. He was also the owner of New England Runner. I had not known him long, but we had become friends and he was acting as a sort of agent for me in my dealings with Reebok. Later, in 1981, Reebok wanted to renege on my contract, which they had verbally agreed to extend. I wrote a letter to Paul Fireman and made some remarks regarding Jean and what I felt was his lack of knowledge of athletics and how he might not be the best person with whom they could consult. I felt that Jean had got me involved with Reebok, sold them on me, and then hung me out to dry. Fireman gave the letter to Jean, and he never spoke to me again. I was young, still learning the ways of the world.

January 19^th—Went for 9 miles on the beach; I wore light-weight Reebok trainers and had some irritation on the side of the heel, not the same spot as has been bothering me. Probably the tendon. Went out for pizza and beer last night with Bob and his wife. Hit the hay at 11:30.

January 20^th—Went out for 5.5 mile loop on my own and then ran it again with Bob for 11. Went to the beach later for one hour run barefoot. Frannie called, and it was nice to hear from her. Had some cabbage rolls, crackers and cheese, and beer and watched the Stupid Bowl. Later went out for a walk and hit the hay at 10.

January 21^st—Got up at 8; went for 5 mile run; heel was sore. Allergies also bothersome with breathing. I got an oil change on the car today; it is running good. Made some phone calls, took a short nap, then run on beach. Training going well if I can get over the hump with this heel injury I should be good for Ome.

January 22^nd—Got in an hour run last night on the roads; felt good. Weather is warm 75 and drier than usual. Got up at 8 this morning and went 5 miles; felt sluggish. Last three days mileage and allergies combined to knock me low. Heel seems to be much better; planning longer run this afternoon.

January 23^rd—Got in 11.5 miler last night in 75 minutes; felt tired, somewhat expected. Very windy today so working a bit harder. Up at 8:30 this morning; had coffee and went out for 10 miler in 64 minutes. Felt stiff legged; light rain and very humid again. Heel good, with occasional twinges.

January 24^th—Went out for 67 minutes last night; felt a bit stiff but much better than the morning run. Had lasagna for dinner and ice cream and a beer. Weather has turned considerably colder. Went for 52 minute run this morning and wore my rain suit. Coolness feels good but allergies still bothersome. Heel better.

January 25^th—out for 75 minute run last night; felt OK. Legs still a bit sore and heavy. Had chicken, rice, and green beans for dinner; also ice cream and a beer. And tea. Frannie sent me down some cookies; I shared with others. Went out for 5 miler at 8 today; warm and humid.

January 26^th—Got in 10 miler last night; felt good. Had some potato mushroom cheese casserole for dinner. Went to bed at 10 but did not sleep well due to allergies. Out at 9:30 for 11 mile run; weather humid but felt not too bad. Wish I could get rid of this allergy. Someone called from Japan last night after everyone had gone to bed. I was in a fog talking to the guy, some publicity person from the papers.

January 28^th—Got in 2 hour run yesterday; 130 miles for the week. Feeling pretty good; allergies bothersome. I spoke with Jean D. from Reebok, hoping to get some things straightened out. Frannie called yesterday but I was real tired and not expecting her call and kind of slept through it. I will call her again today. Went for 5 miler this morning; legs tight and heavy from yesterday’s effort.

January 30^th—Went out for 7 mile run Tuesday morning; felt OK, legs still tight, and allergies still a pain; very bothersome. I’ve got my arrangements set for Japan; I am leaving Miami on the 11^th of February. I did track workout at Clearwater HS track; very similar to the Dracut HS Track. I did 5 mile repeats, the first three in 4:42; very even splits. I had trouble breathing due to the allergies; weather warm and sunny. Bob came over and timed me. I woke up a bit earlier than usual this morning and ran 7 miles; felt heavy in shoulders and arms; had a bit of diarrhea last night and feeling a bit weak. I had a cheese omelet for breakfast and went shopping at the Clearwater Mall for something decent to wear in Japan. Meeting Bob for lunch.

January 31^st—Went for 75 minute run last night; felt fairly well beat. I had some tuna fish with cheese sandwiches for dinner and a beer and tea. Up at 8:30 today and out for 7 mile run; very humid; felt tired. I have been pushing it but will relax my training a bit next week. Reebok sent down some shoes and a warm-up suit, which is cool, so I don’t look like a bum in Japan. I had some French toast for breakfast and just finishing some letters while sitting down on the beach.

February 1^st—Went out for 10 miler last night; it was raining lightly and much cooler. Ran for 64 minutes. Went out for 7 miles this morning at 8:30; wore warm-ups. Went out for breakfast omelet. Allergies bothersome but training is going well enough. I weighed in at 120 lbs. yesterday and pulse rate 56 in the afternoon.

February 2^nd—Went out for 10 last night; felt OK. I had some problems sleeping: coughing and allergies. Went out at 8:30 this morning for 10 miles; much colder and windy. Planning another short run at 2 and then a visit to a bird sanctuary with Bob and Cindi. Later out for pizza & beer.

My training there in Clearwater went well, but it can be a drudge at times just being in this new environment, a stranger in someone else’s home—just me and my twice-per-day habit. Some days I would take the Mustang for a ride up the coast and just crank the tunes on my cassette player. Supertramp: Breakfast in America—Take a look at my girlfriend, She’s the only one I got, Not much of a girlfriend, I never seem to get a lot….

February 4^th—Got up at 9:00 yesterday morning and went out for 20 miler. It was very windy and quite a tough run in 2:15. I spent the rest of the day with my feet up, eating up a storm. Leftover pizza while watching the NBA All Star Game and later macaroni and cheese and beer and ice cream etc. Frannie called, and she may come down here in March for a visit. Nothing much new at home. Got up at 9 this morning; went for 5 mile run. Plan on a bit easier week.

February 6^th—Got in 14 Monday and 15 on Tuesday. Feeling pretty good. Heel tendon is a bit sore again, probably due to the shoe switch and a different torque or area of stress. Got up at 8:30 this morning and went out for 7.5 mile run. I am planning on a track workout this afternoon depending on the weather and how my heel is feeling. It is rainy and warmer; very humid. I talked with Bob Wischnia from RW yesterday; I may go out and run Bay to Breakers again. Wisch says he has some good pictures from the 15K track race at Stanford. I am really getting excited for my Japan trip now and only hope I can hold myself together and run a good race over there. I talked with Tom Fleming on Monday night, and he has been doing well, just fighting a cold. I am feeling similar to my days in Seattle in winter of 78, making the best of the situation. Perhaps I will move on when I return from Japan; just biding time and putting in the miles. The situation here in Clearwater isn’t the greatest, and I might be better off being more independent; it would be more productive. My hosts have been great, so I am making the best of it.

February 7^th—Got in good track workout yesterday, it was very windy but warm. Five repeat miles, avg. 4:48. On Tuesday afternoon run the tendons on the side of my heel began to get sore. Wednesday morning it did not feel too serious. During the track workout I felt a few warning twinges but no significant pain. This morning on 5 mile run it did not hurt too badly On the afternoon hour run it began to ache last 2 miles. Very discouraging, as I am leaving for Miami tomorrow and Japan on Sunday. Tomorrow and Saturday I will run only 5 miles each day and take it from there. Other than that feel quite well and fit; just trying to keep spirits up.

Ohme–Hochi 30K Road Race 1980

As a result of my third-place finish at the Boston Marathon in 1979 I received an invitation to run in this prestigious road race in Japan, held in mid-February. I had heard many good things about this event and had even met some of the organizers and main sponsors of the event as well as Japan Association of Athletics Federations (JAAF) officials at the Eliot Lounge in Boston.

Some representatives from Ohme, Japan, attended Boston each year in a reciprocal relationship. American athletes were chosen on the basis of their performance at Boston. This would be my second international race invitation, the first being the trip to Sydney (but just for the weekend!) to run the City to Surf Road Race. Two other top American runners, Tom Fleming and Randy Thomas, would be accompanying me, along with a representative from the Boston Athletic Association (BAA). I looked forward to this event right from the time that I learned of my invitation. The 30K in February would be a good opportunity to test my fitness, with my ultimate goal being the U.S. Olympic Marathon Trials in Buffalo at the end of May.

Unfortunately, I had developed a bone bruise on my heel. I had switched shoe company sponsors a few months earlier, going from New Balance to Reebok, who were then trying to establish in North America after a long history of shoe making in England. The New Balance was a very straight-lasted shoe, and Reebok was the opposite with their banana last. It took some time to adjust. Mainly, I had gone with them because they offered me substantially more money, which I could not afford to turn down in any case, and as I mentioned before I was a bit insulted by the New Balance offer as I felt I was performing as well or better than athletes who were making more money with them.

In February I would drive to Miami to run for a few days with Tom “TF” Fleming, who would be making the trip to Ohme with me and was based in a house there with some other runners all of whom were passing the winter months in a more hospitable climate. The South Miami running community was supportive, and the house had been arranged with help from the organizers of the Orange Bowl Marathon.

I had known TF for a few years through his connection to the Boston Marathon and his involvement with New Balance when I was still with them. Tom shockingly passed away in April of 2017, and a flood of memories returned from this time in my life. I will take a few paragraphs to reminisce about him before continuing with my narrative.

TF Flyer, Tom Fleming: I best remember our time in that vacationing professor’s house in South Miami in the winter of 1980. Tom and his wife Diane were pure New Jersey. Every single morning TF would run15 miles and drag me with him through Coconut Grove with the parrots squawking overhead in the crushing heat and humidity of a Miami winter morning. I would wake up to TF’s knocking on the door and then his voice, “Bobby, time for your medicine.” By the time we got to the end of the first block, TF was 2 to 3 steps ahead of me and there he generally stayed; other days I only tried to keep him in sight. TF only stopped on a run to poop; I always hoped he would need to so that I could catch a breather. Of course, if I stopped for any reason TF was gone. Sometimes though, just at the end of our run, we would stop at a bridge crossing to look for manatees that would congregate there.

The house had avocado trees, which I thought were quite exotic, and I tried avocados for the first time in my life and loved them. We would finish our runs, and I would sit on the stoop for an hour staring into space with Pepsi and water and what-not along with avocados. TF would immediately be off to the next thing, making plans with Diane for the day. We had visits from other runners, including Bill Rodgers, Kirk Pfeffer, and Guenter Mihelke. We watched the Winter Olympics in the evenings, including the USA Hockey Team “miracle” victory.

We were dreaming our own Olympic dream—that is why we had come to Miami—but now the boycott loomed. One day on our morning run I bonked and just started walking. TF never looked back. My mind was in a storm. “What am I doing here getting run off my feet every freakin day with no Olympics”? When I got back I started packing up my Mustang and getting ready to drive home. TF just shook his head at me. “Carter ain’t gonna stop this thing if the USOC has any balls. If they don’t, we just run Boston instead; I would rather win Boston than anything!” On the weekend, TF and Diane went to a race somewhere and I traveled to Jacksonville and won the River Run 15K. The hard effort was bearing fruit.

During our time in Florida, TF and I traveled to the Ohme 30K in Japan, which was an awesome trip. In 1986, we traveled to New Zealand together: Tom and then wife Barbara and their month-old child Margo. So many memories of TF, who I last saw this past summer in Eugene, Oregon, at the Trials. See you down the road, buddy.[Bob, what year was it that you saw him, 2016?]

The first rumblings of an Olympic Boycott had begun, and I was more or less in denial. Did running in a trials race make any sense if there would be no USA participation? In the context of a potential parallel competition, Bill Rodgers said in the Boston Globe at the time, “I have no intention of competing in the trials or in any pseudo, bogus competition…I’d rather run Boston. It’s more prestigious than whatever they put together as a one-shot competition.”

TF and I traveled to New York City together and spent a night at an airport hotel. We were planning to run, but it was one of those places where you could not safely go any distance without being in the road with speeding traffic. We wound up running over 100 laps around a parking garage to get in our 10 miler.

February 13^th—Arrived in Ft. Lauderdale on Friday evening; stayed at Almer Davis’s house. Ran a low-key 5 mile race on Saturday, and Billy Threadgold from Boston was there. We ran together and tied for first. Spent the rest of the day relaxing and drinking beer. Went down and met TF on Saturday evening and ran 18 miler on Sunday with Tom; felt good. Weather is very hot and humid. Flew to NYC on Sunday; took it easy at hotel Sunday evening. Talked to Frannie on Monday morning, then flew to Tokyo, arrived and were met by a contingent of media and JAAF officials and taken out by Mr. Yo Furakawa; the Japanese are great! Woke up at 7 this morning; had coffee in the Garden Room of the hotel. Went for 10 miler with Tom at 8 around the Imperial Palace.

February 14^th—Spent the day yesterday at the Hochi Newspaper. Then press conference and pictures at the Palace. We had lunch at the offices and watched a Boston Marathon film. Went for a 10 mile run in the evening and had dinner downstairs in the coffee shop. Hit the hay around 9:30. Got up at 7:00 this morning, had breakfast, and went out for 10 mile run. Afterwards went sightseeing to the Olympic Stadium and out in the suburbs, a more traditional Japanese area, where we visited temples and did some shopping. We had lunch in a small restaurant and then went to the Ginza District where we did some more shopping. So much to see and do.

February 15^th—Went out for second 10 mile run yesterday afternoon; tired and foot sore: heel tendon, icing foot. Went out to barbecue dinner in the garden; great meal of steak, lamb, chicken, and vegetables. We then went out to the Sable, a very famous place with all of the American runners. We had many beers and sang songs, with Mr. Furakawa playing the piano. Slept late this morning and had room service breakfast of French toast with honey and coffee with TF. Afterwards went out and did some shopping, and I am now relaxing in my room, writing postcards and napping. The Tiger Shoe rep. came by and gave us rain suits and fitted us for racing shoes.

The treatment we received as athletes in Japan was completely overwhelming. The representatives from Tiger Shoes were trying to win us over, even though they knew that we were all involved in deals with their competitors. We took all the free stuff they gave us, however, including racing flats that were made to our feet. All these years later I still have the shoes, barely ever worn and never in a race.

February 17^th—It has been a long and wonderful day except for the race in which I bombed. Randy set a new course record in winning. Had a fine dinner tonight at a wealthy older Japanese man’s house; excellent. Felt very sluggish in the race after the first 12K. Tomorrow we are going up to the mountains for more sightseeing, and we are back in Tokyo staying at the New Otani.

February 20^th—It is almost 9 in the morning; we spent last night at the Sable after Pizza at Shakey’s. On Monday morning we drove out to Hakone, which is near a National Park in the mountains; very beautiful with views of Fuji. We stayed at a Japanese-style hotel on a lake; a very magnificent setting. We had dinner Japanese style and many beers and sake. The next morning, we awoke to about 4 inches of snow and counting. I went out for a 40-minute run in the sno; it was beautiful. Afterwards I had a warm bath and shower and then breakfast. We spent the morning and early afternoon travelling by taxi and train to Tokyo and checked into the New Otani around 3. We went out for a 10 mile run around the Palace and then went to the Sable. We are scheduled to leave on Friday.

February 20^th—Got up and went for 72 minute run from the hotel Shimbayu Tokyo Inn; not the best place to run from. Very busy streets. Eventually we found the Olympic Stadium and ran loops around the outside of it. Had dinner last night with TF, Randy, and Maki from Moonstar Corp. Had sukiyaki vegetables and beer. Had a final lunch today with the people from the Hochi Newspaper at a Chinese restaurant. Went shopping after lunch and came back and had a nap then went out to dinner at an Indian restaurant. Ever since I have arrived in Japan I have been dragging because there is so much to do, and I have fallen from my normal routine of doing things. Tomorrow we are off back to the States. This trip has been an awesome experience. I hope that I will be better prepared if I get to race here again in the future.

February 22^nd—Got up at 8 this morning and went for an hour and twenty minute run with Randy and TF. Legs are beginning to come around. It was an uneventful day; had breakfast and lunch with Randy and Mr. Maki and then went to the airport. Our flight left at 5, and we are expected to land in San Francisco around 9 on Friday morning. It will be good to get back to FLA and back into normal groove of things. I did so poorly in the race that I am anxious to train hard again, but life is a yoyo.

February 25^th—Arrived in Miami on Friday night very tired. Got in 12 miles Friday morning in Tokyo around a park near the Olympic Stadium. We caught our flight at 5 and got into SF at around 9 on same day Friday. Went out for 6 mile run at the airport and then had a sandwich and caught our flight to Miami. We arrived at 11 at night; a very boring tired flight. Got a good night’s sleep of around 11 hours and went for 10 miles on Saturday night. Felt sluggish; very hot and humid 80s. Ran 14 Sunday morning and 10 in the afternoon. Went out for 14 this morning and bonked; had to drag myself in.

When we arrived in Tokyo (Tom, Randy Thomas, Rod from the BAA, and I), we were met by representatives from the JAAF and some media. Over and over we were asked, “How is your condition?” I thought of the First Edition song Just Dropped In (To See What Condition My Condition Was In) and sang a verse to Randy and TF every time they asked.

We were taken to The Palace Hotel just a few blocks from the Imperial Palace which had a three-mile walkway around it where it seemed every runner in Tokyo would run. Of course TF would have to chase down any runner who had the audacity to pass us while we were covering our daily miles around the palace.

Each day preceding the race was planned out for us: museums, palaces, the Olympic Stadium, and so on. We were also hosted at a JAAF official’s home where we watched a recording of the Japanese television coverage of the 1979 Boston Marathon. It was all fun but also tiring along with the fairly heavy mileage (http://www.bunnhill.com/BobHodge/TrainingLogs/training80.htm) racing the locals around the palace with TF. The day before the race we took the Bullet Train to Ome, and I was impressed with the efficiency and comforts in comparison with our fair city Boston.

I was anxious for the race, and my trepidation proved correct when I quickly fell back from Randy and the lead group. I ran a lackadaisical effort and finished 11^th. Randy, who had been training in New Zealand, ran perhaps his finest race ever, winning in a then world best road time for 30K. TF finished just behind me and struggled as well.

After the race we traveled to Hakone, a resort in the shadow of Mt. Fuji. It was wonderful where we stayed: a Japanese-style hotel. It was funny watching TF try to stick his size-13 feet into the little slippers they provided as we entered the hotel. We retired to our rooms, briefly grabbed our robes, and went to the hot-spring-fed baths for a soak. Afterwards we donned our “happy coats” and sat down cross legged at a table to feast on traditional Japanese food. I shied away from the shellfish, leery of an allergic reaction. I enjoyed the sukiyaki and of course sake in little wooden cups.

I was disappointed with my race but learning and growing as a person and realizing that one should never get too high after a good race or too low after a bad one. Keeping an even keel was easier said than done. The next day I was up early and went out for a run on my own. It was lightly snowing and was very quiet and beautiful after having spent the majority of our time in the country in a bustling crowded city. I felt very at peace in this place.

Our tour continued part way to the top of Mt. Fuji where many make the pilgrimage. Our hosts had provided us with very liberal per diem monies to buy gifts and mementos. I bought a set of woodcuts by Hokusai (100 Views of Mt. Fuji), and also a jewelry box and Hakata doll for my then girlfriend Frannie.

On the trip home, TF and I talked about our future in running and wondered how things would turn out. We were optimistic that the USA would send a team to the Olympics and that professional running was right around the corner. We were planning a trip up to Boca Raton the next week where Billy Rodgers had decamped. There would yet be many more wake-up calls from TF: “Time for your medicine, Hodgie.”

February 28^th—Training much improved over the last few days. This should be my highest week so far in FLA, possibly my highest week ever. Billy and Ellen were down for the last few days, and yesterday we went to the Everglades and walked around and went for an airboat ride. I did a track workout at a local high school track yesterday, 5 repeat miles in 4:54 with Bill and TF. I hope that the weather will remain nice, but it will probably be getting quite a bit warmer. I am planning on three more weeks here and then about a 5 day drive back north. This weekend I head over to Clearwater and pack up my stuff from there. Frannie is coming down on Sunday morning, and I will drive back here to Miami on Sunday afternoon.

Bill and Ellen Rodgers came to visit from Boca Raton for a few days, and it was the first time that I witnessed Billy eating his pizza with mayonnaise. I had always assumed that he ate cold pizza with mayo, but this was actually hot pizza and mayo: yuck! Bill had become known for his legendary diet as well as his athletic prowess.

March 9^th—Training going very well. Frannie came down last week, and we spent most of the week up in Boca West at Bill and Ellen’s place training. I took Frannie to the airport last night. It was great that she came down; I really like her a lot and all. This weekend I plan on running a 15K race in Jacksonville and Brad will be there visiting his brother and running the race as well. The last few weeks have gone by very fast, and soon I head back home.

When we were visiting Bill in Boca we set out one afternoon to a local school to do a track workout. Bill had been told the location of the track, but we were running all around some athletic fields and no track. At some point, as we were about to give up, we noticed some white lines on the grass and followed them around what appeared to be a quarter-mile track. So we did a mile to test it out and continued to do four more—my first ever workout on a grass track.

Jacksonville River Run 15K

Running was going well, and I wanted to test my fitness with a race. It had been three weeks since my mediocre effort in Japan and I was looking for a confidence boost. The third annual River Run in Jacksonville seemed to fit the bill. Bill Rodgers had set the course record in winning the inaugural run.

It would be the RRCA Championship and the organizers had tried to bring in some top runners from around the country. I contacted them the week before and their budget had been spent but they promised me $100 to defray my expenses.

My friend and teammate Brad Hurst was coming down to visit his brother who lived in Jacksonville, so I had a place to stay there. Rather than drive I bought myself an airline ticket I traveled up there on Thursday before the Saturday race and lay low. 

I was feeling good finally I was comfortable with the Florida environment the heat in Miami that winter where most days were in the 80’s with high humidity. I had weeks of 96, 120 and 138 preceding the race with a couple of track workouts.

The pace felt fairly pedestrian and there was a decent size pack for the first six or seven miles. Coming back over the bridge, the one hill on the course Benji Durden and I pulled away. We ran side by side for most of the last two miles and I inched away from him at the end for a victory.

It was a shot in the arm and a confidence boost. When I returned to Miami I put the large trophy that I had won on the mantlepiece in the living room of the house that I was sharing with TF and Diane. When Tom arrived back we prepared to go for a run as we stretched out a bit on the floor of the living room space Tom asked “so Hodgie, how was Jacksonville?” I pointed to the mantlepiece, “you won?”

TF sprinted out the door that night for our 10 miler and was two steps ahead of me the entire way as I regaled him with the story of my brilliant victory. Remarkably I still have that trophy adorning the shelf beam in our backyard shed with the lawn mower and gardening tools and other assorted stuff.

The following week Tom and Diane returned to NJ leaving me alone in the house. One night I got a strange phone call from someone asking for Tom. I don’t remember the details, but the call freaked me out. I packed up and left the next morning.

April 2^nd—Arrived back in Scituate Sunday night late. Cherry Blossom race in DC went fairly well although it was very chaotic, and I had been planning on Saturday race when it was actually Sunday. The last few days I have been settling back in the weather is cold and gray. I am getting off to a good start though with 20 miler on Monday and 19 on Tuesday. I hope to put in a good mileage week 120-130 a bit less next weekend then tone it down unless something drastic happens with the USOC meeting April 11^th. Tomorrow planning a hill workout at Heartbreak with Vinnie and Dickie.

Cherry Blossom

I ran a solid race; the one detail that I remember about this one is that Steve Floto and I went out to a thirty-yard lead and then ran past the turnaround point. The pack behind shouted out to us and we turned back but while doing so we both slipped in some mud on the road near a construction site and I went down to one knee.

I felt like I never regained my composure after that. I finished 6^th in 48:02.

April 4^th—Went out for 10 this morning it is a very raw and rainy day. A meeting I had planned at Reebok fell through until next week.  I had breakfast down in the harbor this morning omelet sausage toast and coffee. Going out for a run in a bit with Gene Morris and planning to go up to Lowell tonight.

I eventually met with Reebok who were excited that I would run Boston with the Olympic Boycott being highly likely to happen the Trials seemed to be a pointless exercise. Reebok had gone out and bought a singlet for me and lettered it with their name and logo and they thought it was great. Unfortunately, it was a Head Tennis singlet and not at all suited to run a marathon in. They were insulted when I told them I could not wear it and I went out and had a Bill Rodgers Running Gear singlet lettered. They gave the Head singlet to local legend Larry Olsen and of course he wore it being Larry.

April 8^th—I got in very good track workout last night 8 mile repeats average 4:39. The weekend in Lowell turned out to be a bit of a disaster as I got in a car accident and had some other problems. Unbelievably my running went very well. A 22 miler from BC on Sunday weather warmer in the 60’s and sunny. I had a good dinner at Frannie’s house and Brad stayed over. We drove back to Lowell and I stayed at Brad’s. On Monday I got my car back fixed enough so that I can drive it back to Scituate. Brad and I ran a loop around the river and later I headed back home. Car was running OK but on 128 the hood flew off!!! Luckily no one was hurt or killed!!! I made it home with the help of a couple of guys who helped me get my hood in the trunk and then followed me home all the way to Scituate. So, I suppose I have to count myself lucky! Last week was one of my best running weeks ever and I feel confident about Boston if it will all come together.

On April 5^th in Lowell I went for a run with friend and training partner Brad Hurst and we ran the 13 miler around the river through Tyngsboro etc. After the run we were heading to lunch and I was driving the Mustang over the Aiken Street bridge when I zoned out looking out over the river and ran into the car in front of me. It was the beginning of a streak of unfortunate events.

April 14^th—Went for 17 mile run through Cohasset hills felt sort of sluggish as I have the last few days which is due to a combination of the warm weather and the heavy training. I have definitely decided to run BOSTON and will gear up this week and cut my mileage back and get plenty of rest.

April 18^th—I am feeling fairly well with three days to go until the 1980 Boston Marathon.  The marathon that should not have been for me. This is the way it plays out. I was in Boston yesterday at Bill’s store and the intensity is there. I struck a deal with Rob Yahn to wear Bill’s clothing line and went out for a run alone over the Newton hills one last time before Monday’s race. I will be glad when the gun goes off and we are on our way. The next few days are for rest and getting keyed in just short runs with some little race pace pick-ups.

Unlike 79 this year I was assigned number 2. Sadly, Rob Yahn who headed up Bill’s clothing line never paid me beyond the first month. I did try to sort it out with him, but I began to feel like I was begging and didn’t want to bring it up with Bill, so I let it go.

April 20^th—Eve of the Boston Marathon. It was not supposed to work out this way but tomorrow I will race Boston and when it is over I will re-evaluate things. It is windy and warm now but they are calling for cloudy and cool tomorrow with maybe a few showers. I am keeping my fingers crossed. One way or the other it is always good to get it over with. Some of the newspaper stories regarding amateurism etc. make me nauseous. The “coverage” of the marathon is sickening with a few exceptions. I have been asking myself lately if it is worth it. These writers are assholes who know nothing about athletics and usually cover baseball or something.

Every year at Boston Marathon time a lot of these respected beat writers or sports writers who didn’t appreciate marathon running or runners as even athletes would write their stupid ignorant stories slapping each other on the back how hilarious they were. I did not appreciate it!

April 24^th—Marathon wound up being a bit of a disaster. I knew when I woke up and looked through crack in the shade that it was going to be a rough day. Very bright sunshine and temperatures in the 70’s. I tried to play it cool but I went out much too fast.

I went out with the lead pack and felt OK through halfway but then the heat of the day hit me. “How is this happening I thought, I ran in the heat of Florida all winter for goodness sake?” I dropped out at Lake Street the 21-mile point body one giant cramp. Salt caked my face. It was hard to swallow as my running had been on such an upward trajectory and now a DNF and no try for the Olympics.

April 28^th—Feeling tired today went for 10 mile run this morning and 14 yesterday. Legs tired but the soreness is pretty well gone. It is cold and windy and rainy today yesterday began Daylight Savings time. It does not feel like spring. Every day since the marathon has been great running weather as I like it damn NE weather, damn weather. I have some bad blisters feet got roasted. I have the Midland Run NJ coming up and it is a loaded field hope I don’t embarrass myself. My new home my cabin in Norwell is ready and I can’t wait to move in. Looking forward to living on my own and fixing the place up a bit. Moving some stuff in this week. Felt out of it most of the day today trying to look ahead and move on but no run at the Olympic Trials is a huge letdown. On the upside got an invite to the Montreal Marathon.

May 6^th—Spent this past weekend in Midland NJ for the Midland Run. To sum it up briefly it was a good time and a well-run affair. I received $800 appearance fee which I almost felt bad taking considering my poor race. Truth is I needed that money. Well the bubble has burst I’m not running well for a variety of reasons and there are no Olympic Trials for me, so I suppose I will cut my training back for a few weeks and run a few low key races and then try and build up this summer for a fall marathon. I have not had the Mustang for a month now, but garage tell me it should be done on Friday. I was so upset about the entire thing that I was glad no one was here when I got home. I have started fixing up my new place cabin in the woods and I can’t wait to move in. I think it will be ideal.

I grew philosophical and started reading more looking for solace and peace of mind. I had put the Olympic Games on a huge pedestal and now realized that they were not so sacred or beyond being used for political games. President Carter and Congress coerced the USOC to vote boycott and they wilted under pressure. I know, I know I should have realized this all along, but I didn’t, and I now had to come to grips with it.

Aftermath

Summer 1980

“Life can only be understood backwards but must be lived forwards” Kierkegaard

It is a languid summer day but I am moving well and breathing easy on this early evening run in the middle of July.
It is my second run of the day and I am several weeks into my summer personal training camp based in a cabin on the North River a tidal river in Norwell, MA.

Through the fall and winter previous to this golden summer I had a residence in Scituate Harbor several miles away, but spent most of the winter in Florida preparing for the 1980 Olympic Trials Marathon. Unfortunately, there was the boycott and my subsequent decision not to compete in the trials with no Olympics on the line.

Our rental in Scituate ended in May and it was my good fortune to land in this cabin.

It was located up a small hill on a dirt road off Main Street and was adjacent to a larger house and a pen for the goats.
There was one goat a hearty type who would leap out of the pen from time to time and come visit me in my little cabin.
One of his ears was chewed off apparently so I called him van-goat.

After the boycott was announced I decided to run Boston and it did not go well for me as I did not finish. It was a warm day and I cramped badly and stopped at the 21 mile point. I was disappointed and became disillusioned and I went to the pub every night for a week to drown my pathos.

It didn’t help, but my love of running and competing slowly returned.

After all I had a contract with a shoe company that required minimal time at the office and I had good friends nearby that I had worked retail with for a few years. I also had a girlfriend who would come down on the bus from Boston to see me some weekends, so really the future was so bright I had to wear shades.

After my run I walked to the river and dove in from the dock. I felt my entire body relax as I lightly kicked in the water and looked out at the lowering sun and clouds in the sky.

I enjoyed the feeling of floating in the water becoming mesmerized in the flow like the feeling when running and clicking on all cylinders.

The chill of the water and the salty tang were invigorating rejuvenating.

The cabin had a small kitchen a larger living room with a wood stove, a small bedroom and tiny bathroom with a shower, perfect. I did not have many amenities, but I had all that I needed. I had a portable black and white TV, a turntable and records and a radio receiver.

Compared to summers in Lowell growing up this was like being at a resort.

I had run a road race every weekend in June and won them all. They were all fairly low-key affairs and easily incorporated into the running load I was trying to accomplish each week. We always had good times after these events.

After my evening run and swim, I cooked swordfish on a tiny hibachi grill and boiled fresh corn. I usually had strawberries or blueberries all from the local farm stands.

It was an idyllic life, but I did feel some pressure after performing so badly on the big stage at Boston. I did not have reduction clauses in my contract but if I didn’t perform or the company’s gear didn’t sell well enough I would be looking for other ways to continue with athletics.

In the days before professionalism and prize money I did have some income also from appearance fees from race directors to guarantee my participation.

My main goal for the summer was the Falmouth Road Race. Beyond that I would need to decide about a fall marathon or a cross-country season or perhaps both?

I had been thinking that I would run the New York City Marathon in October, but recently I had received a letter of invitation from Nelson Farris via Geoff Hollister to run in the NIKE OTC Marathon in Eugene, Oregon.

My only marathon race experiences so far had been Boston, which I had now run three times. So far New York had not recruited me to compete there, so that I was leaning toward running in Eugene.

It’s nice to feel wanted.

The summer proceeded, and I grew tanned and lean, rib cages prominent and perhaps frightening to behold, running with no shirt through the center of town. For a distance runner fitness is in proportion to emaciation.

Falmouth went well, I held second place behind the great Flying Kiwi Rod Dixon heading into the Heights at six and a half miles. I was passed in the last few hundred yards by both Herb Lindsay and Ric Rojas.

I went to the Nike OTC the first week of September hoping for a PR and a win. I ran a personal best finishing second to another great New Zealander, Dick Quax.  It was a much different experience from Boston being run at 8:00 A.M. with very few spectators out on the course. The finish was in Hayward Field which was cool. I remember thinking as I ran the last five miles with Quax that I was doomed when he decided to go for it, but so far, I had pulled him back after each of his surges.

In the end he inched ahead and beat me by twelve seconds.

I spoke with a few media types at the finish. For some reason I was not happy about my race, I was pissed that I lost, and it is amusing to read the little rant that I wrote in my running diary back then cussing out “Quaxy” as I called him and the Nike crew. (I represented upstart in the USA Reebok at the time)

I walked back to my hotel and grabbed twenty dollars and then I walked to the liquor store and bought a case of beer and a few snacks.

Back at the hotel I filled the bathtub with water and ice and the sink. I put the beer in and then I jumped in to the tub for a while as well.

I got up and toweled off, climbed into bed and started watching the US Open Tennis. McEnroe v. Borg, one of the greatest matches ever played.

It was a very memorable summer all around. I had discovered a lot about myself at least in my athletic abilities and that was always my quest.

Look Into The Sun Soundtrack

Conclusion – Carry on Back on my Horse.

In the aftermath of the boycott the shine came off the Olympic Games but though it didn’t shine as bright it still had appeal. At the Nike OTC I ran 2:10:59 which made me the 7^th best performer ever among Americans today 31st. It would stand as the 19^th fastest time in the world in 1980 and I would be ranked 10^th in the country by Track & Field News.

http://www.usatf.org/statistics/All-Time-Lists/MarathonMen.aspx

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/1980_in_marathon_running

If there had been an Olympic Trials I would have been in the mix I knew that much.

At the end of October 1980, I injured my adductor/groin muscle on my left side. Although I continued to compete long after this injury until 1988, I may have never fully recovered from it physically or psychologically.

I feel that not having easy access to good sports medicine and physical therapy hurt my career. Some modern methods of treating injury almost certainly would have speeded me to a full recovery.

Occasionally after a big marathon race, especially Boston, I imagine myself at my best competing against today’s best and I see myself faring well. Though my best time would not crack the top 100 in the world in any given year, it does get me a top ten finish in many if not most major marathons.

http://registration.baa.org/cfm_Archive/iframe_ArchiveSearch.cfm

In fact, at Boston my third best time of 2:12:30 would have placed me in the top ten every one of the last ten years except 2011 and a couple of those years would have won though it is unlikely I would have run as fast in the hot conditions.

What does it mean? Would I in today’s running world have chosen to be a vagabond runner professionally? I like to believe yes and a badass runner at that.

My Supporting Cast and Players

C. Sharpless Jones friend, employer at the RUNNERY, Inc.

Steve Calder Sharpless business partner friend and training partner on occasion.

Brad Hurst teammate friend best man at my wedding.

Frannie Hodge God Bless Her my wife and longtime partner.

Bill Rodgers friend teammate four times Boston Marathon winner.

Vinnny Fleming friend teammate running partner.

Earle Fucillo friend running partner supporter who helped me become an adult.

Gerry Maher running enthusiast, friend and my dentist.

Bob Anderson editor of Runners World Magazine.

Bob Wischnia writer for Runners World.

Dick Quax champion runner from New Zealand.

Friends from Lowell: Stevie Nicolaides aka fish man, Ronnie Durant aka jocko.

Bill Squires world famous marathon coach and enigmatic character eccentric in a good way like most athletes.

The Greater Boston TC.

Paul Fireman Reebok USA founder.

Gene Morris friend and fellow co-worker at the RUNNERY and training partner.

Jean DuVoisin Reebok Consultant.