Original title: Boston: A Very Special Race. Runner’s Gazette, Summer 1977.
Actual article published in actual running magazine. Which I actually don’t remember.
Boston. April 18th. Patriots’ Day. 85 degrees. Jerome Drayton won it; Bill Rodgers didn’t. Veli Baly thought he did, but the Turkish champion was “only” second. Ron Wayne finished fourth as the first American, and Miki Gorman, the headmistress of the marathoning sorority, led the ladies. Johnny The Elder finished under four hours as did some 2943 others – ten (10) more than officially began the race! Eight hundred and sixty-eight (868) runners broke the supposed three-hour barrier. Film at eleven.
What is Boston? To your uncle Eb, it’s a real big city up East somewhere. To your teenage children, it’s a rock-and-roll group. To the average sports fan, Boston may mean the Bruins, Red Sox and Celtics. But to runners… well, runners know it’s a race, perhaps the race. But it’s more, so much more.
Boston is a Danish at Ken’s, a beer at Eliot’s Lounge, a marimba band in the Commons, It’s the Copley, the Lenox, the Sheraton, the Colonnade. Boston is Will Cloney, Jock Semple, Tommy Leonard, the Pru, and more cops than a PBA Christmas party.
Boston. Skinny guys in funny-looking shoes with $1.35 worth of Sunday newspapers, trying to find their names. A lean, bearded man explaining through a stuffed nose to no one: “I’ve got a terrible cold.” Running along the Charles with a guy named Frank who won’t finish within five miles of you on Monday. Howard Cosell refusing articles nobody asked for. Paul Newman making a movie.
Boston then is mostly people. It’s the wino slurring a question as you jog by: “How fash ja gunna runnit?” It means the black dudes talkin’ ’bout how the weather gonna do those marathoners. Strangers stopping at your table to wish you luck. Most of all, the Boston Marathon is the spectators, those wonderful people who seem to line the entire 26 miles, 385 yards of the course. Without a doubt, the million onlookers are the people who make Boston the special place it is on Patriots’ Day. Even that loudmouth with the can of Bud and the stained t-shirt which reads “Do it in a 4-wheeler.”
It’s the crowd which makes Boston “the one we all want to run,” according to Joe Henderson. Sure, for a few runners, there is that elusive crown of laurel. For some others, there’s a chance to compete with top-quality athletes like themselves. But for most of the 3,000-plus starters, it’s the crowd, the applause, the warmth and admiration, perhaps even love, which sweeps over their bodies, strengthening their aching muscles with psychic E.R.G., pushing them along like a gusty tailwind, warming their souls, revitalizing their very guts… making it all worthwhile.
At no other time, in no other place, does the average runner hear the roar, the applause, that one hears at Boston. No other race can sustain the sheer energy, the vibrant enthusiasm, that permeates the very being of each marathoner. Boston is recompense for all those cold, dark winter runs, for all those miles alone in the searing sun. Boston is a reward for the dogs, the insults, the sore legs, the insinuations by your mother-in-law. You don’t hear “Hup, two, three, four” and you don’t have to explain yourself. Boston is singularly magnificent.
Boston is also in trouble. The greatest marathon in the world has reached the point where, perhaps, its most fascinating facet is its logistics. How many athletes can be enumerated, transported, and timed? How many runners can participate without someone getting trampled to death. When does a field of runners become a mob?
That no one was destroyed underfoot is so incomprehensible that mere coincidence or divine intervention are the only plausible explanations. Surviving the hills, the weather, the distance itself is challenge enough – we should not have to fear each other. I have heard from fifteen (15) people, directly or indirectly, who ran at Boston and all but one are agreed – they would not run it again.
While the weather the past two years earns a portion of the blame, it is the sheer size of the event which seems to precipitate the most disenchantment.
No one knows just how many people started the race in Hopkinton. Despite the large dropout rate, more people actually crossed the finish line than were officially entered. The race directors have added procedures to limit and control the runners, but nothing new appears to have been done to ASSIST them (the runners). Clearly, the qualifying restrictions have done little to diminish the size of the field. Clearly, it is time for a change.
What is the future of the Boston Marathon? Quite obviously, the race will never again be a bucolic pilgrimage from a tiny New England village to the very heart of a great metropolis. Indeed, Boston is already too huge to be either an athletic or artistic success. If the number of entries is permitted to grow, if some serious alterations are not made in the organization of the event, the race will die. Boston’s very popularity will be its own destruction.
Let me say, here and now, I stand in awe of the efforts of Will Cloney, Jock Semple and their assistants, however many or few. But if Boston is to be restored to excellence, something must be done, and soon.
Qualifying restrictions have demonstrated no real effect upon the number of entries. The restrictions should either be discarded, or limited to such a standard that the desired size can be attained. Since the Boston Marathon reached its pinnacle as a race where the average runner could “compete” with the world’s best, strict qualifying requirements would appear undesirable./ The limits which currently exist are already ineffectual, the only runners now penalized are the slow and serious, since the dilettantes continue to run unofficially.
The restrictions also serve to concentrate the mass of runners. Fewer competitors arriving at the finish line simultaneously does not appear to be a much improved circumstance. As for the unofficial entries – perhaps we could initiate a governmental program. The Federales used trained dogs to search out concealed drugs; the BAA could treat all official numbers with a special scent, and train dogs to seek out runners without such a placard. Well, something has to be done!
John “The Elder” Kelley has suggested a staggered start. Those runners over 40, with blue numbers, would start ten (10) after the younger athletes, wearing red numbers. However, I have vanquished by enough over-40 runners to know that some exception must be made for the more masterful masters.
After all, Boston is not an age-group race; it is an open event. If any staggered start is enacted, it should be based one one’s ability to run. While I would be more than happy to accept a ten-minute head start over Ken Mueller or Ralph Thomas, for example, such a handicap would seem to contradict the concept of staggered starts. Exceptions could be made for the exceptional elder – we could call it the Jack Foster Rule.
Personally, I like the idea of seeding runners behind the starting line in accordance with one’s PR, or qualifying time. This system has been used at such races as Trail’s End and New York City, as well as the Charleston 15-mile extravaganza, with apparent success. The major problem with seeding is the long delay for those runners in the rear of the field. The slowest entrants thus begin with an additional handicap. While this has no important competitive impact, some amelioration should be developed to eliminate the time lost in the interval between the sound of the starter’s gun and the crossing of the starting line. The interval may seem inconsequential to one who has never been to Hopkinton, but a two- or three-minute penalty is not unusual for those at the back of the pack.
One possibility would be multiple starts based on ability. This is essentially the staggered start advocated by Kelley and others. For example, superstars could take off at noon, the 2:30-2:45 people fifteen minutes later, the 2:45-3:15ers at 12:30 and the horde at 12:45. That’s just an idea. Divisions could be altered according to the number and abilities of the runners. Surely some computerized means of timing and identification could be formulated to minimize finish line chaos.
The 1977 race provided for nine wheelchair marathoners with a 15-minute head start. Drayton did not pass the leader, Bob Hall, until some sixteen (16) or eighteen (18) miles had been run. The appreciation evidenced by the crowd, as Hall and his competitors wheeled past was every bit as great as it was for Drayton, or Gorman, or Kelley. Admittedly, a staggered start with only nine (9) entrants in the first flight hardly proves this to be a viable solution. But the idea has emerged. It might make Boston a better run. It might even save a life.
Other possibilities could be applicable. Limit the number of entries, as the New York City Marathon is doing this year. Or, establish a lottery. Application could e made by March 1; the first 2,000 names picked get to run. All 2:20 runners, and those who finished in the top 100 the previous year, could added. Those entrants who are not selected one year could constitute the initial entry for the next year’s race.
Drastic measures perhaps, but drastic measures are necessary. Whatever hurts the Boston Marathon hurts running.
Jerome Drayton won the damn race and he still wasn’t happy. With the laurel wreath atop his head, the victorious Canadian complained about the lack of competition, the dearth of proper aid stations, the size of the field, the proximity of the crowd, the unofficial assistance Bill Rodgers received from his wife, the chaotic start, and more. Every complaint was valid.
Will Cloney defended Boston: “We have our problems, but it’s still the most unusual race in the world.” Unfortunately, unusual is not necessarily good nor best, nor enjoyable. If Cloney can indeed obtain an additional $10,000 for race expenses, as he said, let him do it. If the ten grand was used for nothing other than subsidizing the world’s greatest runners, Boston would be the better for it.
Drayton says he won’t return… get somebody else.
Such a financial windfall might even be used to hire a full-time year-round director for the race. Despite indications to the contrary, the current race leadership must someday relinquish control. Testimony to the greatness of Messr. Cloney and Semple is that their successors will undoubtedly require salaries. No one would submit themselves to this ordeal voluntarily.
Which is what one heard at the finish line, as the marathoners stumbled up the escalator into the Prudential building. Some vomited onto the moving steps; others hung their heads in exhaustion. A few had to be carried; there were not enough wheelchairs. There was an atmosphere of despair, but that was merely physical, external.
Inside, every man, or woman, glowed. From behind the exhaustion, behind the sun-baked, hollow-cheeked expressions, the glint of strength, joy, satisfaction, brightened the hallways. Their eyes were alight with self-respect. They had run Boston. Despite the heat, the hills, the pain, the fatigue, they had finished. Maybe not as fast as they had dreamed, but they had made it. That’s what mattered.
And they could go home, renewed, cleansed, as if they had bathed in some sacred river. Their bodies would ache for a few days… stiff and sore, but that would go away. Boston wouldn’t. They would never again be what they were before they ran the Boston Marathon.
Boston. It is a very special race.
Men’s Top Results
1. Jerome Drayton (CAN) 2:14:46
2. Veli Bally (TUR) 2:15:44
3. Brian Maxwell (CA) 2:17:21
4. Ron Wayne (CA) 2:18:18
5. Vinnie Fleming (MA) 2:18:37
6. Tom Fleming (NJ) 2:18:46
7. Gary Tuttle (CA) 2:19:42
8. Chris Berka (CA) 2:19:48
9. Jack Fultz (PA) 2:20:44
10. Russell Pate (SC) 2:21:16
Women’s Top Results
1. Michiko (Miki) Gorman (CA) 2:48:33
2. Marilyn T. Bevans (MD) 2:51:12
3. Lisa Lorrain (GA) 2:56:04
4. Gayle Olinek (CAN) 2:56:55
5. Ann Forshee (MI) 2:58:54
6. Lisa Matovcik (PA) 2:58:54
7. Joan L. Ullyot (CA) 3:01:04
8. Penny DeMoss (CA) 3:01:16
9. Jennifer White (VA) 3:03:33
10. Sally Sullivan (CT) 3:03:46
Photo of Miki & Jerome by Jeff Johnson