My father is laid back, but persistent. If he has something to do, he’ll stay up all night and do it. Once, he wrote a textbook on physics. He wrote night after night until he finished. That’s the persistence you need for marathoning. – Bill Rodgers 1981

Here’s a tale with an Olympic buddy.  June 2014.
Some of you may not be all that familiar with the pioneers of American distance running. Rodgers won the New York City marathon four times and the Boston Marathon four times. No other accomplishments would be needed for greatness, but he also set a couple of American records along the way. – JDW

I was kinda hoping he’d DNF again.

But he wasn’t seeking victory. He was there to promote http://richardsrunforlife.org/
All proceeds from the event go to the Moffitt Cancer Center to benefit prostate cancer research and awareness.

Which made most of the rest of the morning a choral conversation of survivor stories involving long tubes and chemo and the importance of early detection.  As runner after runner and survivor after survivor and family member after family member shared their stories.

Bill understood, he’s a survivor himself.  The event’s driving force, Richard Gonzmart, understood, he’s a survivor.

A couple of guys who went to high school with Billy showed up.  More survivors.  Historically, men are loathe to discuss prostate issues.  Used to be such talk was a sign of weakness.
And, let’s face it, cancer is way scary.  But, it turns out, real men, tough men, men with balls, get checked.
And, if you won’t do it for yourself, think of Father’s Day and do it for your family.  

Maybe ask your honey for some help. That’s always fun.

Thankfully, Gonzmart’s family has owned the Columbia chain of restaurants since 1905.
And any friend of Bill Rodgers is a friend of Richard’s. He’s no Dick.

Allow me to recommend the “1905 Salad” and Camarones Rellenos “Jesse Gonzalez.”  Muy bueno.
I am hoping the waiter’s nickname is Speedy.

Check your balls.

Rodgers: Boston’s Man on The Run

By Frank Litsky for The New York Times. April 20, 1981

April 20, 1981, Section C, Page 1.

BOSTON

A MONTH ago, Bill Rodgers awakened with the flu. ”I was weak,” he recalled, ”washed out, sick. I was depressed. I thought Boston was gone.”

Boston meant the Boston Marathon, a spring event that ranks in importance here somewhere between the Boston Tea Party and a Red Sox pennant. Bill Rodgers is America’s most successful marathon runner, winner of four Boston Marathons (1975, 1978, 1979 and 1980) and four straight New York City Marathons (1976 through 1979).

He lives here. He is adored here. It would be unthinkable for him not to be fit for today’s 85th annual Boston Marathon. ”I had to beat the flu,” he said. ”So for two weeks, I cut back to 60 miles of training a week instead of 120 or 130. I was trying to pretend it didn’t happen. I spent two or three days in bed, then tried to run, and I got dizzy. My stomach bothered me. I woke up in the middle of the night. My weight went down to 122.

”To win a big race, you know, everything’s got to be right. Toshihiko Seko of Japan has to be the favorite, and he’s healthy. I was sick in bed and Craig Virgin was winning the world cross-country championship in Madrid, and I’m going to be racing him in Boston, too.”

”Our mother called him,” said Charlie Rodgers, Bill’s older brother. ”She said he should see a doctor. But he doesn’t like doctors. She always worries. In 1979, he was 10 blocks ahead in the Boston Marathon and everyone here was smoking cigars and she was almost on her knees praying.”

Despite his sub-par condition, Bill Rodgers had commitments two weekends ago to run a 10-kilometer road race on Saturday in San Antonio and the 10-mile Cherry Blossom Run on the next day in Washington. He won in San Antonio in 30 minutes 32 seconds, slow time for him. Then he flew to Washington and felt terrible. That night, he turned to George Hirsch, who publishes The Runner, a magazine.

”I’m still sick,” said Rodgers. ”Will you jog the race with me tomorrow?” Mr. Hirsch was flattered, but the two-man jog never happened. ”I woke up the next morning,” said Rodgers, ”and I remembered I was the defending champion. I decided to run as hard as I could.” For the first seven miles, Rodgers ran into wind gusts that reached 35 miles an hour. He finished the 10 miles in 47:14 and won.

Today’s marathon will be the 31st of his career. He has been running 30 or so races a year, almost all on the road. Some are as short as 10,000 meters (about 6.2 miles). The longest are the marathons – 26 miles 385 yards. Since 1973, he has run at least three marathons a year.

”You can’t be No. 1 in the marathon and run only one a year,” he said. ”The mark of a champion is to put yourself on the line, even if you don’t win them all. If you win most of them, you’re O.K.”

Rodgers puts himself on the line often. He plans to run marathons in Stockholm in August, New York City in October and Tokyo next February. In between are the shorter road races. In between them is work.

And Rodgers’s skill as a runner has made Rodgers the businessman very successful. He owns three shops that sell running clothes and shoes – one in Brighton, Mass., on the Boston Marathon course four miles from the finish line; one in Faneuil Hall near the Boston waterfront and one in Worcester, a 45-minute drive away. He also owns a line of running clothes named after him.

Charlie Rodgers runs the Brighton shop. Until the other day, he and Bill shared an office there in a basement storeroom – a battered desk surrounded by shelves of running clothes and shoes. Now Bill has renovated an office one flight up, with a new desk and a black swivel chair.

Bill is in and out all day. He spends much time out of town, where racing is only part of his job. ”At most races,” he said, ”I give clinics, make appearances for sponsors, go on television, give interviews and appear at health spas and running clubs and dinners. It’s a package deal, and that’s what I receive my expense money for.

”Some people think my expense money might be too high. Some people think it is too low. Expense money is common among top athletes, not only from the United States but from all countries. Running needs support. It’s good for me, good for the sponsor, good for the sport.”

His expense money runs into thousands of dollars for each race, except for the Boston Marathon, which pays nothing. Despite international rules, many outstanding road runners and other track and field athletes receive appearance money disguised as expense money. No one in authority seems overly disturbed.

”Last year,” said Rodgers, ”from my clothing line, three stores, writing for The Runner, clinics, after-dinner speaking, sales meetings and things like that, I made $200,000 to $250,000 before taxes, I guess. I think I’m paying $150,000 in taxes this year, including carryover from previous years.

”It’s a change from 1976, when I made $10,000 teaching. I’m obviously in a very fortunate position. I’m aware of it. My breaking through and the running boom came at the same time.”

But nothing is perfect. Bill and Ellen Rodgers, who met in 1972 and were married in 1975, are getting divorced. She had set up his schedules and flights and arranged many races. She provided fabric and design ideas for the clothing line.

”It’s extremely difficult,” said Rodgers. ”This has nothing to do with running or life styles or traveling. We’re talking and trying to work out our futures. We hope it will be better for both of us. I think it will be, so we have to pay the price now. It’s kind of like a marathon. You can’t describe what it’s like unless it happens to you.”

Rodgers was sitting in his new office. He wore his standard uniform -T-shirt, chino trousers and running shoes. At 5 feet 8 1/2 inches and 128 pounds, with ample blond hair, he hardly seemed 33 years old.

As he spoke softly, he nibbled at the lunch he had brought from home -small cans of pineapple juice and apricot nectar, an orange, a plastic cup of peanut butter and half of a small restaurant loaf of whole-wheat bread, left over from an out-of-town dinner the night before.

”Racing isn’t fun,” he said. ”Well, it’s half fun and half hellish. It’s an intense challenge physically and psychologically. If you want to test your limits, it’s great for that. It’s such a grind, training and running year in and year out. There’s no offseason. It’s a hard life style.

”But it’s been worth it. It has enabled me to live in a beautiful house, to meet great people. I’ve been fortunate. But I can’t downplay how tough it is to push at a high level year after year. When you can’t handle it anymore, you’ve got to retire.

”First, you’ve got to love running. Then you’ve got to love the competition. It is an obsession. It is unbalanced. It’s way off a normal life. I guess that’s true for many athletes at the top level.”

Few athletes at any level lead Rodgers’s whirlwind life of sport mixed with business. Is he trying to do too much? ”That’s always been my problem,” said Rodgers with a laugh. ”But I always like doing a lot. That’s my personality. I get it from my parents. My mother is a whirlwind. My father is laid back, but persistent. If he has something to do, he’ll stay up all night and do it.

”Once, he wrote a textbook on physics. He wrote night after night until he finished. That’s the persistence you need for marathoning. What I do would be impossible for most people.

”It’s tiring. It’s total insanity. I think that’s why I got the flu, trying to do too much. I must get 50 calls and letters a day asking me to do things for charity or go here or go there. People think if you’re an amateur, you’ve got time. I do what I can, but you can’t do it all.”

”Everybody wants a piece of him,” said Charlie Rodgers. ”A Washington dentist wants him to spend 20 minutes trying a mouth brace for runners. A Montreal inventor wants financing. People try to promote him. He’s very nice to everyone, but he is unaware how many people want him.

”I would drop dead of exhaustion if I did everything Bill does. He’s going all the time. But he is gentle and easy. You should see how gentle he is talking to his cat. He never gets angry unless he’s sick or injured.”

There are four Rodgers children -Charlie, 34; Bill, 33; Martha, 32, and Linda, 25. Charlie Rodgers Sr. is a professor of mechanical engineering at Hartford State Technical College, near the family home in Newington, Conn. He is 6 feet 4 inches tall. His wife, Kathryn, is 4-11.

”She’s 57 and she runs seven miles a day,” said Charlie Jr. ”Dad doesn’t believe in excess. He jogs in maybe a 200-foot circle in front of his house.”

Bill Rodgers grew up in Newington and ran his first road race as a high school senior in 1965. At Wesleyan University in Middletown, Conn., he ran the half-mile in 2 minutes, the mile in 4:18.8 and the two-mile in 8:58.2. His college time for the half-mile is still his fastest ever. Last summer, just to see if he could do it, he lowered his mile record to 4:16.8.

Amby Burfoot, his college roommate, won the 1968 Boston Marathon and encouraged him to run road races. In 1972, Rodgers moved to Boston and became a road runner. Since then, it has been train and race, race and train.

Starting in 1973, he has run the Boston Marathon every year except 1976, when it came too close to the United States Olympic marathon trials. He quickly became the local favorite. In the Boston Marathon, people stand 10 deep and wait an hour or more just to see Bill Rodgers run by.

”It’s a great honor,” said Rodgers, ”but it’s a burden, too. There’s pressure when people yell you on. In 1977, I had to walk off the course and out of the race after 21 miles. I just wasn’t ready to run that fast. When I pulled over, people got real quiet. They didn’t know what to do. People don’t know how zapped you can be, that it may be wise to stop and wait for the next time.”

”The people love him,” said Will Cloney, the Boston Marathon director, ”because he’s a local boy against the world. He’s a refreshing character. They loved Ted Williams here, too.”

Jerry Nason, the retired sports editor of The Boston Globe and author of the book ”The Boston Marathon,” also cited the hometown angle.

”Billy has a tremendous psychological advantage here,” said Mr. Nason. ”There are a million people out there and they’re all for him. He’s the hometown boy, and people root for him the way they do for the Red Sox when the Yankees come to Boston.”

”I like it,” said Rodgers, ”and I don’t want to retire yet. I don’t like the feeling that some people want to retire me. Someone wrote that my age caught up with me last year in New York, that I was getting too slow. Things like that get me motivated. Competition is tougher than ever, and it makes me work harder.

”I’m not going to do 120 miles a week all my life. I will retire some day. Sooner or later, my age will force me to retire. If I can’t win Boston anymore, if I’m winning only masters’ races, that’s it. I might be able to be the best 41-year-old in the world, but that won’t motivate me enough. I would rather take time out to spend three weeks exploring Yellowstone Park.”

A version of this article appears in print on April 20, 1981.