I was a grizzled 26-year-old married veteran when I ran my first marathon. I was a month older when I ran my second, the 1973 Boston. A tough day and I distinctly remember I felt more manly for having finished. And survived.
Even if I did throw up the beef stew.
More ‘manly.’ What an idiot. More human, I soon learned.
Bobbi Gibb had already proved that.
Her Boston victory in 1966 was one long race for a woman, one giant leap for mankind.
When did you start running?
Started running when I was two-years-old and have never stopped!! Always just love to run and watch the world wheel by and feel the wind on my face and the energy of the universe flowing through me. Isn’t it amazing? Just to run!!!
Toughest opponent?
Never really had an opponent.
Is this because there were no competitions or no other girls or you lived in the woods?
It is because in 1966 there were no other woman marathon runners, at least none I’d ever heard of. In 1967 there was one other woman in the race, but I didn’t know she was there. She finished about an hour behind me. In 1968 there were five women in the race, but again I had no idea they were there somewhere behind me.
Most memorable run?
My most memorable run was, of course, April 19, 1966. It was the first time any woman had run the Boston Marathon at a time when it was almost universally thought a woman was physically unable to run a marathon. At the time, the longest AAU women’s race was 1.5 miles. My victory on Boylston Street was front page headlines. And I met so many wonderful people!!!
Running Boston changed the way men thought about women and the way women thought about themselves.
If a woman could do this, this that was thought impossible, what else could women do? What else could people do???
And it was fun!!!! Except for the blisters.
Which is why Nikes were invented, but that’s another story.
Biggest disappointment and why?
That would have to be 2001. I was running Boston to raise money for ALS research; one of my best friends, Buck Robinson, had come down with the dreaded disease.
I’d trained up and was running really well, then I came down with bronchitis just before the race. Since I’d been on TV talking about ALS and there was a lot of publicity about it, and since I didn’t want to let the team down, I ran sick as I was. It was slow going, I could hardly breathe. I made it to the top of Heartbreak and doubled over in pain. Got on the medical bus, which headed back out to Wellesley, picking up runners who had dropped out.
Finally, after some forty-forty-five minutes I estimate, we arrived back at the place where I had gotten off the bus. “Stop, I want to get off,” I said. The cramp had released and I wanted to finish the race. A cold headwind blew. Finally I got to the final stretch and just as I turned down Boylston Street, two huge street sweepers started up and escorted me to the finish. I glanced at the clock. The six hour mark had passed, almost everyone had gone. I laughed to myself, thinking the First Will Be Last, an inglorious finish.
But the silver lining, we raised over 100,000$ for the lab. And afterwards I met Dr. Brown, the head of the lab. I became interested in finding a cure and wrote him a forty-page letter about my ideas. He hired me and I’ve been working with the lab to find a cure ever since.
What would you do differently if you could do it again? Why?
What would I do differently? On that first run in 1966 I would have pasta loaded instead of roast beef,,, and broken in my new running shoes…. and drank water along the course…..
There is so much she would do differently, Bobbi answered the question twice.
Of course, in those days, 1960’s and before, there were no women marathoner runners and hardly any men running. Boston was the only major city marathon I knew of and that was only two-hundred or three-hundred men, and these were runners from all over the world. There was no running movement yet, although I hoped people would join in and start one.
If I were running now, there would be a huge community of runners, coaches, books on running, etc…
I would have running shoes that fit and were broken in, so I would not have gotten blisters. I would have known to drink water along the course, which I didn’t in 1966.
I would have had a coach and running companions, which I did not have in 1966, 1967 and 1968, my three wins.
I’m sure my times would have been quite a bit faster. Fewer blisters and less dehydration will do that.
I’m so happy now that millions of people are finding the same joy and healthful living as I find in running!!
The newspaper described me as “a shapely blonde housewife.” So, I figured if people saw that, they might be inspired to run. People would think, if a shapely blonde housewife can run 26.2 miles in – what was then a fairly good time, 3:31:40 – then so could they run it.
Favorite philosopher? Quote?
Aristotle. The universe is “a self-thinking mind…”
Special song of the era?
Favorite comedian?
I don’t know who my favorite comedian is. The most laughs I have is when my son and I get bantering about something.
What was your ‘best stretch of running’? And so why do you think you hit that level at that time?
Best stretch of running was 1964 to 1966. I was totally focused on training for Boston and it was top priority.
After that I was in college, pre-med, math, philosophy, science and didn’t have as much time to train. In the 1970’s I was working in Jerry Lettvin’s lab at MIT, in neuroscience….. going to night law school and having a baby…. again… not as much time to train. Then I was working as a lawyer in intellectual property and raising my family. Again not enough time to train. Although I have always, and still, run an hour or more most every day.
You say your best stretch was 1964 to 1966. What made those years “best” when your wins at BAA were ’66 -’68? Was something more rewarding going on or was it the training itself?
I should have said ’64 through ’66. That first Boston run was a peak experience even with the blisters. I felt I was changing people’s consciousness about women and about running… after all if a “shapely blonde housewife” as the press described me could do it, anyone could do it, right!!! 😇
My 1964 training by running all across our beautiful country was an amazing experience!!! Each day running in a different place and sleeping out under the stars. A fantastic experience!!!
In 1967 I was in college at the University of California in a tough pre- med/science/math curriculum and didn’t train as much. In the ’67 marathon I was sick, with the flu. And because of the negativity around K. Switzer, who was an hour behind me, there was more hostility. (The male runners and officials were threatened by her illegal entry that jeopardized the accreditation of the men’s division race and would have negated the running times of the qualified runners.) In contrast 1966 had been upbeat and positive.
In 1968 I was training even less and had made the mistake of wearing a sweater. It was a hot day and I was very over heated and dehydrated.
That’s why I say ’64, when I first fell in love with the Boston Marathon, through ’66 were the years I ran the most. After that the other demands of life took up more time… having a family and a job etc. – all good things.
But I’d made my point at Boston and done what I set out to do. And I still run an hour or more a day. It keeps me healthy and sane.
I’ve had thousands of miles of running since I first started, probably over 100,000 – all good miles..
What was your edge?
Edge? Not sure I ever had an edge. 🙂
What supplementary exercise did you do?
Other activities…. I swam a lot…. good for anaerobic/aerobic stuff…..
What was your toughest injury and how did you deal with it??
Toughest injury wasn’t so much a running injury…. but I was sprinting at the time…
Stunningly beautiful winter day, new fallen snow glistening in the sun… walking in the woods…. came to an open field…. so filled with joy I sprinted full speed…. hit black ice under the snow…. heard my right ankle crack and break….. crawled a half mile or so to a house…..To hospital…. They pinned ankle together, and put on a cast….On crutches and the next day I was cantering up and down the beach….
They didn’t think I’d run again, at least not Marathon distances…. But I was determined…After the cast came off my ankle was frozen and immobile… In an “L” Shape…I sat on the edge of the tub with my ankle in hot water and tried to move it…. willing it to move… gradually slowly little by little it began to move…. every day I’d canter on crutches ….. And soak and move my ankle…I kept at it for months… the pins were removed and I now have full mobility in that ankle and never missed a day of running…
Those final few paragraphs are just the way she told it to me.
I could see the rhythm and hear the colors she painted.
https://fitandfeminist.com/2016/03/30/fifty-years-ago-bobbi-gibb-was-a-bandit-and-now-shes-a-legend/
Q&A: Boston Marathon History-Maker Bobbi Gibb
We spoke with Gibb 50 years after she became the first woman to finish the race by JAMIE DUCHARME· 3/23/16 for Boston Magazine.
On Marathon Monday 1966, Roberta “Bobbi” Gibb crouched in the bushes in Hopkinton, her body concealed by Bermuda shorts and a hooded sweatshirt, ready to make history.
When the pack began to run, she leapt out to join. Three hours, 21 minutes, and 40 seconds later, she became the first woman to finish the Boston Marathon—even though, at that time, women weren’t allowed to register for the race.
This year, Gibb, a neuroscientist and artist, is serving as race grand marshal and working on a sculpture of herself that will eventually* adorn the marathon course at an as-yet-undetermined location. The installation again makes history, as the first sculpture of a female runner along the race route.
We caught up with Gibb, 73, to talk about her historic run, her sculpture, and the state of women’s running.
What made you run the race in 1966?
Women have been deprived of opportunities for centuries and centuries. I wanted to change that. When I ran, I felt free and I felt full of life. People thought I was nuts—nice, but nuts. I wrote my application [to the marathon], and [the Boston Athletic Association] wrote back, ‘Women are not physiologically able to run marathons.’ I said, ‘If I can prove this is wrong, that’s going to throw into question all the other false beliefs that have been used to keep women down for centuries.’ I decided to run anyway.
Where did you find the courage?
It amazes me now, when I look back, that I followed my heart. When I love something, I follow it. They say love casts out fear, and that’s true.
How did male runners react?
They were happy. They were supportive. They said, ‘We won’t let them throw you out. It’s a free road.’ For a grown woman to run in public was totally improper and way out of the social norm. But the crowds were all enthusiastic. Pretty soon the reporters started to pick up the story, and then a radio station started to broadcast my progress. I got to Wellesley and the women went crazy.
Was the B.A.A. equally supportive?
No. The marathon, in those days, was a men’s division race, which means women were not qualified to run. If there is a woman running in a men’s division race, it jeopardizes the accreditation of that race. They had to be very clear that I was not part of the men’s division race. It was an unsanctioned women’s division race. [The women’s race was sanctioned in 1972.]
What was the run like?
I had no coach, no books, no idea, really, how to train. It was my first-ever race. I had bought new boys’ running shoes and I had horrible blisters. I didn’t know you had to drink water, and I was severely dehydrated. I had eaten a huge meal of roast beef the night before, thinking you needed protein. I did everything wrong; it’s amazing I finished at all. But I knew I had to finish, because here I was, making this public statement. It was a huge responsibility.
What has the impact of your run been?
What I wanted to happen, happened. It galvanized people. It really changed the way people thought about women; it changed individual and social consciousness. It inspired lots of people, men and women, to run.
Fifty years later, you’re making a commemorative sculpture. How did that come to be?
We were going to do a sculpture of [Olympic marathoner] Joan Benoit and Joan said, ‘No, I want to see a sculpture of you there. You were the first.’ I said, ‘Oh, my god. Doing a sculpture of myself—that’s a little embarrassing.’ I wasn’t looking for it, I wasn’t expecting it.
Is it odd to make a sculpture of yourself?
At least I know what I look like! I don’t need a model.
Do you still run?
I’ve always run an hour or two a day—I still run an hour or two a day. I just love the feeling of running.
What about the sculpture?
The bronze was cast and ready to install in Hopkinton over one and a half years ago. It is sitting at the foundry, waiting for the covid thing to pass, so we can have the ceremony in Hopkinton and install and unveil it.
Just as we are all waiting to have a real life non-virtual Boston Marathon again.
Ain’t that the truth, Bobbi Gibb, ain’t that the truth.
Bobbi Gibb is recognized by the Boston Athletic Association as heralding the pre-sanctioned era as the women’s winner in 1966. Kathrine Switzer is known for being the first woman to run the Boston Marathon as a numbered entry in 1967. It was not until 1972 that women were welcome to run the Boston Marathon officially.
