A common theme one finds in classical mythology is the belief that all events are predetermined,
that all outcomes have already been decided – by gods, weaving together the strands of fate. – Weaver
By Bob Hodge
Felt it a time or two, I ain’t going to lie. Most often those things you worry about don’t amount to anything but you never want to jinx it by not worrying some. I made some questionable decisions for sure going with my gut but I got over it.
Whether I was very fit or questioning my fitness recovering from injury, with running I had a strange psychology.
I recalled my past successes to keep confident I still got it but doubts would often creep in. One time I felt a disquietingly sore hamstring before a 5K on the track and I had almost convinced myself not to compete. I had the most dire, almost anxiety, attack that this might be my last race ever. It was 1984 and the Olympic Trials were in the spring and summer and what should this poor boy do?
Well, I smoked the first lap in 61 and never looked back. I hit the mile in 4:18, two miles in 8:45 and ran 13:54, a personal record. Second place runner clocked 14:16.
The next week, hamstring still sore, the hand of fate slapped me again. I ran 10,000 meters at the Penn Relays in 28:24, another PR. So, it is possible to go from a dark, negative feeling and run surprisingly well.
I rarely had a problem with overconfidence, no matter who I was running against. In fact, I did not like even a ten-year-old in front of me when a road race started, unless it were a very low key affair. Therefore, my strategy usually was, who am I kidding, I had none – just run hard and let fate decide.
Ever wonder why did life go this way or that? Well, I have and the past can almost be rewritten in a way because even the act of writing about something changes it, your perception of it, memories of it.
I can almost feel myself back there but old now, not what I was.
I like to picture a place in a dream where the world stops and I step off like a rebirth as an angel but not dead. Perhaps reading George Saunders’ Lincoln in the Bardo played right into this dream picture but it is a reoccurring theme for me.
Many occurrences in my life have been happy accidents and I have dodged a few bullets as well. Not to wallow but I have been crushed and ground down like in a mortar and pestle by forces within and without my control.
In 1984 I began to feel the pressures mounting as I tried to reach the level of “suck-cess” I believed was rightfully mine. But life and athletics being my life don’t always work like that. You got lady luck versus the hand of fate comin’ to git ya.
I ran some of my best races in 1984 and if the Olympic Marathon Trial had been a month earlier… or if I had been a bit smarter made wiser decisions… or did not have those troublesome allergies… I finished 18th in 2:18.
I felt, this is it, time now to cut your losses.
So I started work full-time at New Balance Athletic and it was a good opportunity for me. Though I put my running on the back burner, I still competed well enough, even finishing 27th in the National Cross Country in ’85.
After being spiked in the heel at the start by teammate Steve Lacy losing my shoe falling to dead last and coming all the way back to finish just behind Lacy.
One of my best racing efforts ever but not much to show for it except the blood poisoning I got a day later and the trip to the emergency room for intravenous antibiotics.
I was lost in the corporate atmosphere, even though NB was small then by corporate standards. The culture, the crunching numbers, making deals, dealing with the athletes under contract, all a part of the company’s marketing efforts, this did not come naturally. I was stung by all the complaints and negativism.
Let’s face it, I was not ready for prime time in this world but I learned a thing or two or three.
I remember one big sales meeting in Dallas where I had to present to the regional sales people and also the company mucky-mucks. Tell them all the great things Team NB were up to. I wasn’t nominated for an Academy award, I will say that much.
The meeting was at a shoe show where all the companies had a booth. We all were at the booth at different times, answering attendees’ questions about the products. One day company president Jim Davis was in a meeting with the regional reps. It was morning and I was out in the booth area when Jim called me into this little meeting area.
I was thinking, ‘wow, they want to hear more of my thoughts, gather my input, pick my brain…’
“Bobby, will you get coffee for us all.”
I hoped I covered up the look on my face, disguised my feelings, as I replied, “Sure, Jim, Okay, what are you all having” and went around the table, taking orders like a friggin’ barrista.
ML Carr, the Boston Celtic towel waver, was also in, there cracking jokes. New Balance paid him more than our entire running team and he wasn’t even playing any longer. Now I’m head of the company’s running team and I’m getting him coffee? F*ck that.
I didn’t last long at NB and I had a nice talk with Jim when I decided to leave and go back and finish school up in Lowell and coach the Women’s Cross-Country team.
Also, I went back to the running wars, got married, ran Boston one last time, ran the Olympic Trials Marathon and Track Trials one last time.
Tempting the fates until the end.