Coudersport, Pennsylvania, has been stalled at around 100 marathoners. The Governor’s Cup (previously the Ghost Town) Marathon in Helena, Montana, has roughly 200 runners, yet the accompanying 5K race has thousands

Coudersport, Pennsylvania, has been stalled at around 100 marathoners. The Governor’s Cup (previously the Ghost Town) Marathon in Helena, Montana, has roughly 200 runners, yet the accompanying 5K race has thousands

FeatureVol. 6, No. 2 (2002)March 20026 min readpp. 2-4

Coudersport, Pennsylvania, has been stalled at around 100 marathoners. The Governor’s Cup (previously the Ghost Town) Marathon in Helena, Montana, has roughly 200 runners, yet the accompanying 5K race has thousands.

Of course, Heart of America, God’s Country, and Governor’s Cup have one thing going against them: they’re relatively tough courses, so the typical runner is not going to PR any time soon. Yet the latter two races are also lovely from a scenic standpoint, usually a factor that draws runners.

A marathon whose diminishing numbers are completely baffling is the Santa Clarita Marathon. The race is well-organized, the course is fast, the

amenities are generous, Santa Clarita is ascenic area on the northern boundary of Los Angeles, yet in spite of the host city’s marketing efforts, the race continues to lose runners. Certainly one drawback is that it is run in the late fall, which puts itup against many of the mega-marathons, which seem to be a magnet, especially for firsttime marathoners.

In spite of their seeming stagnation or even disintegration, small marathons have charms that the megamarathons can’t provide, not the least of which is the luxury of crossing the start line in this lifetime.

Small marathons typically offer extremely personal customer service and frequently boast one volunteer per entrant, something the mega-maraSouth Africa Comrades Marathon Tour Package

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March/April 2002

thons can’t approach, although many of the mega-marathons do go out of their way to train a corps of volunteers to look after runners’ needs.

One factor in what attracts runners to one size marathon or the other is the runner’s personality. Today’s runners are more susceptible to the hype of big-city, big-number marathons. There’s a lot of splash, press coverage, a real sense of a mobile Woodstock. Small marathons, on the other hand, seem to attract a more traditional loneliness-of-the-long-distance-runner type runner—someone more introspective than gregarious.

In considering the pros and cons of mega vs. mini races, I slowfooted it back over the 37 marathons I’ve run, and found a definite prejudice in favor of the smaller races.

Maybe it’s the constant reminder in our backyard, where one of the seedling redwoods that was given out to finishers of the Humboldt Redwoods Marathons in the ’80s stands twice as tall as I am.

Maybe it’s the fact that my three fastest times were on a small-marathon course where it was possible to line up in a spot compatible with the speed I was going to run and where it was a matter of mere seconds between the signal to “Go!” and my feet crossing the starting line.

Maybe it’s the informal post-race parties a group of us would arrange at the smaller marathons where we would sit around comparing notes,

luring into our midst other finishers who happened to be passing by and who were interested in sharing a beer and telling their tale.

Maybe it was the ease of parking, the ease of getting to the water and sports drinks at the aid stations, the sense of relaxation at the starting line in spite of the presence of butterflies in the stomach, the home-made age group prizes, the local high school jazz band playing at the finish area, the availability of ample soft grass that welcomed a tired butt or two without being butt-to-butt with 5,000 other butts, the finish line announcer who had plenty of time to describe every finisher’s final struggles to the clock.

Maybe it was merely the intimacy of the small races, as though marathonracing were still something small, eccentric, and therefore special.

Maybe it was the leg room, both to move around freely before and after the race, and to stride out during the race itself.

Maybe it was the scenery, which we didn’t have to peer around or over thousands of other runners to absorb.

Maybeit was merely the peace and quiet, where you can hear the slapslap-slap of your own feet and your breath being drawn in and expelled.

Maybe it’s just the nostalgia for simpler times.

Maybe it’s time to get away from the keyboard to take a run. Quietly, alone. Yeah.

—Rich Benyo

March/April 2002

On THE Road

WITH Joe LeMay

FIRED—AGAIN

It’s tough to sit down and write this, my last column for Marathon & Beyond, since it is my last source of income that I can count on. When ’’m done with this column, it will be gone.

Yes, money is tight these days, and Ican be quite whiney about it, just as I can be with a lot of things. People don’t like to talk about money, especially athletes. I don’t want to know how much So and So is getting because it will make me all jealous and whatnot, and I’ll wonder if it’s really true. It might bruise my already-shaky self-esteem.

After all, the only way to really find out what someone makes is to have access to their tax returns. Did you know that in Finland, tax returns are a matter of public record? Yes. I read it in the Wall Street Journal, so it must be true. It’s so the police know how much to fine you if you get a speeding ticket. They pull you over, punch up on their little Nokia gadgets how much you made last year, and write a ticket accordingly. One wealthy speeder paid a $10,000 ticket a couple years back.

Anyway, I’m writing about this now because my endorsement contract with Adidas is up, and, as of December 31, 2001, I’m in it just for the love of the game.

March/April 2002

WE “TURNED PRO” IN 1981

No one’s ever told me this, but in my estimation, the U.S.-led boycott of the 1980 Moscow Olympics had alot to do with the professionalization of our sport. (See “Show Me the Money,” Marathon & Beyond, January/February 2002.)

Iwas only 13 at the time and didn’t have a lot to say on our foreign policy since I understood very little about it; but I knew I was full-out against this boycott, and history has looked favorably on this opinion. Afghanistan wasn’t worth the trouble, and Olympic boycotts simply aren’t effective.

Following those 1980 Games, athletes who once went to great lengths to maintain an amateur status for the sole purpose of competing in the Olympic Games thought they might as well not bother with that any longer.

The firstroad race to openly award prize money (“over the table,” as they say) was the Los Angeles Marathon of 1981, which was then called the Jordache Marathon, after the race sponsor. I should know about this because my coach, Tom Fleming, won the event and pocketed $50,000 for it: $25,000 official first-prize money and another $25,000 in his contract if he

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M&B

This article originally appeared in Marathon & Beyond, Vol. 6, No. 2 (2002).

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