Ny Most Unforgettable ‘Marathon

(And What | Learned From It)

COURTESY OF GAYLE BARRON

Gayle Barron, shown here in 1978 immediately after breaking the tape as the Boston Marathon victor, returns to the historic race in 1996 and makes a difference in the world with her heart and not with her legs.

B OSTON, April 15, 1996—Like most runners who have raced more than a few marathons, there have been quite a few that I consider unforgettable. From 1972 to 1980 Iran 23 marathons and was very fortunate to win the 1978 Boston Marathon. Standing on the victory platform, my head decorated with the laurel wreath, and feeling the awe of an unexpected win was truly a thrill. But, surprisingly, the 1978 Boston win was not my most memorable marathon.

If I had to pick just one race, it would not be one from the height of my racing career in the 1970s, but rather it would be the “100” running of that most famous of all marathons.

As Istood at the starting line of the historic 1996 Boston Marathon, the 26.2mile races I had run years ago from Hopkinton to Boston were about to take on anew meaning. My purpose for running this race had nothing to do with race strategies, time splits, or finishing first.

Instead, I was running it spiritually with and physically for a very special person—a six-year-old boy who suffers from leukemia.

That little boy is Scott Ritchey. The knowledge that I was running Boston °96 as a way of sponsoring a child who had been very sick since he was three years old meant more to me than almost any race I had ever run for myself.

TEAM IN TRAINING

Let me backtrack a bit to fill in the background on Scott and Boston. In 1995 I was Georgia’s statewide coach for the Leukemia Society’s Team In Training program and traveled with a group of marathoners to the Big Sur International Marathon in late April of that year. Participants in this fundraising program run marathons in honor of a child who has leukemia. One of ourrunners had signed on to the program to sponsor her run for Scott. She had arranged for airline tickets for Scott and his mother Sharon so they «e couldseeherrun her marathon on the breathtaking Big Sur course along the coast of California. Unfortunately, Scottcamedown with a very high

Scott ended up

in a local

hospital instead

of at the race

during his trip

\ to the 1995 Big Sur Interna-

| } v4 tional Marathon.

‘COURTESY OF THE RITCHEY FAMILY

ee Gayle Barron MY MOST UNFORGETTABLE MARATHON i 79

fever during the trip and was rushed to a local hospital. I went along with Sharon to the hospital while the doctors ran tests on Scott.

Scott’s mom Sharon and I discovered that we had a lot in common, among other things being born-again Christians, and we became fast—and close— friends in the wake of the trip. I stayed in constant contact with the family, monitoring Scott’s recovery. During the following year, there were numerous ups and downs in Scott’s condition, with frequent visits to Scottish Rite Children’s Hospital in Atlanta. It was during one of my visits with Scott at the hospital that I decided to run in his honor at the centennial Boston Marathon.

TOO-LONG A LAYOFF?

It had been a long 16 years since I had run the marathon distance, but I was excited about the opportunity to train for and run another marathon. After my competitive running career during the ’70s and very early ’80s, I retired from competition, but I had never stopped running for fitness. I had gotten into a cross-training program that seemed to work best for me. But with the centennial Boston approaching and with the inspiration of running for Scott, I felt energized. I suddenly had a new lease on my marathoning life, which I thought was behind me. I began to train with an energy and focus I hadn’t experienced in years.

Every workout was filled with new excitement about returning to that great city for what promised to be a spectacular event.

A VERY SPECIAL CHRISTMAS GIFT

It was an early morning in December of 1995 when I picked up the Atlanta Journal & Constitution and read the “Peach Buzz” column, a gossip column that nobody says they read but that almost everyone in Atlanta does. The column was asking people to write to Santa and tell him what they would like him to put in their stocking.

I wrote to “Peach Buzz” that my Christmas wish was for Santa to give Scott Ritchey and his family airline tickets to see me run the Boston Marathon in his honor. The generous people at ValuJet saw my request in the paper and decided to send not just Scott but his whole family to Boston in April. That news further energized my training and gave all of us a very special Christmas gift.

From that point on my training moved to a whole new level. My motivation was unbounded, and I began to receive donations from friends to help Scott as wellas others with leukemia. My training seemed easy compared to what Scott had been going through with chemotherapy and constant visits to the hospital.

His condition put everything into perspective for me. In my previous marathon career, when I was training competitively and placing first, second, or third in most marathons I ran, I was doing it for myself, and in that sense, it was a selfish act. Now, I had moved beyond that self-centeredness, and I was doing this marathon for someone else, and that made the training feel doubly good. I began to sense that Scotty was with me on my training runs, going stride for stride along the roads beside me.

There were some days when people who saw me training probably thought Thad a screw loose, because when I felt Scotty’s spirit with me, I couldn’t help but smile, probably inappropriately. Who smiles while charging up a challenging hill?

The days left until Boston seemed to pass in warp-drive speed. The whole Ritchey family was infected with the excitement of going to Boston. Because of the severity of Scott’s condition, the family was very limited in its travel, so this was going to be a real treat for them.

A CANCELLED TRIP?

Then, as though Scott’s leukemia wasn’t enough, a few days before we were all to leave for Boston, I received a call from Sharon’s mother-in-law informing me that Sharon, Scott, and his sister Carolyn were involved in a serious automobile accident. Sharon had a broken arm, dislocated shoulder, and broken ankle. The kids were doing fairly well, but Sharon was pretty busted up. I was convinced that the Ritcheys would have to scratch their plans to go to Boston. They have always hada strong faith in God, but I felt they had to be questioning the sequence of

A serious car accident almost kept the Ritcheys from joining Gayle (left) in Boston.

& i COURTESY OF GAYLE BARRON

Gayle Barron MY MOST UNFORGETTABLE MARATHON ® 81

disasters that had befallen them. When I finally got to speak with Sharon, she told me that positively, absolutely, nothing was going to stop them from seeing me run the Boston Marathon.

RACEDAY 1996

She was correct. We all made the trip to Boston, and I don’t think I’ve ever experienced the electric excitement that was in the Boston air during mid-April of 1996. The usually pessimistic meteorologists were predicting downpours for race weekend. And they were correct—up until raceday itself, on Monday, April 15. While other people were worrying about getting their tax forms to the Post Office by midnight, more than 38,000 runners were traveling to Hopkinton under beautiful, sunny skies. New England weather is like no other. Just a week before there’d been a snowstorm. Piles of unmelted snow were still here and there in Hopkinton, yet on raceday, it was glorious.

Ihad made a point of getting together with the Ritcheys before I left Boston for the start at Hopkinton. Scotty was not feeling well and was suffering from another fever. As I gave him a hug, I drew energy and inspiration from him. I was wearing a hospital wrist band with Scott’s name on it, and I was ready and eager for the most meaningful race of my life.

At Hopkinton, everyone was in a celebratory mood. Except for the frontrunners, none of us who had worked so hard to qualify and get to the start seemed concerned about covering the course very quickly. With the numbers that were going to pour themselves down the two-lane country road, there was no way anybody back in the pack was going to be able to run fast.

Walking past the elite frontrunners, I took my place in the midst of nearly 40,000 eager runners. I recalled that in 1978 there were only 4,391 starters, 202 of them women.

The usual Hopkinton excitement was turbocharged. I was impressed with the good cheer and good manners of every runner there. There was a lot of concern about using several huge staging areas. If someone jumped the gun— either through excitement at seeing the thousands of other runners streaming past them and dumping onto the course, or because they had their own agenda and wanted to get a leg up on other runners in their corral—it could have been disaster. But everyone stood patiently waiting their assigned turn to head for the starting line. There was the usual stretching of tight legs, retying of shoelaces, and gazes taking on very definite focuses.

Later that evening, when I saw the shots of the start area from the helicopter, I was deeply touched by the respect these tens of thousands of runners had for their fellow runners by standing calmly and under control while thousands upon thousands of runners streamed past them.

As the starting gun fired, I felt the surge of the runners taking their first ministeps toward their far-off finish line. As I moved forward, I reminisced. Was it really 18 years since I had won Boston?

THE CHANGES ARE PROFOUND

I glanced around and thought about how very much the running world had changed in 18 years. Runners were decked out in designer running attire. Years ago, in my very first 10K in Atlanta, I ran in blue jean cutoffs and a cotton shirt. In the winter months, I used to run in thick cotton sweats with hooded tops.

Now, on street level, I was overwhelmed by the latest high-tech running shoes and remembered what my old blue Keds looked like. I chuckled.

More obvious than the fancy clothes and shoes, though, were the sheer numbers. More men—and especially more women—are taking on the marathon as a personal challenge and are being helped on all sides with training programs and books and even Web sites. The world of running has certainly undergone a lot of changes since the “good old days.”

The race’s early going involved a lot of shuffling and stop-and-go, but eventually we began moving, and I was astounded by how early along the course we were able toroll into a jog and then a run. I tried to absorb all that I could and attempted to reconcile it with other times I had run Boston more than a decade and a half before.

I recognized a few of the landmarks as we poured through various towns, but it had been so long and I had separated so much from hardcore marathon running

Scott (right) and Carolyn enjoy the Boston sights during Marathon weekend.

‘COURTESY OF GAYLE BARRON

—_.-s $e Gayle Barron MY MOST UNFORGETTABLE MARATHON ® 83

that my most profound feeling was gratitude that I was able to do this run for another human being, a newfound young friend who was waiting anxiously for me at the finish line.

I must admit that the 96 Boston was not one of my easier races, even though Iwas running it much slower than [had in the past. A chronic leg problem flared up over the last 16 miles, but it was not enough to dampen my excitement and my feeling of camaraderie with the thousands of other runners around me. I reflected that in my prime, marathons had not been very painful for me. I was young, I was incredibly well trained and strong, and because of the speed at which I ran in those days, I was finished in a reasonable time.

This race, however, was painful every step from 10 miles to the end. At the halfway point, I heard the deafening yells from the Wellesley College women. They looked a little different than the girls in 1978 had, but their intense cheering hadn’t changed one decibel. They lifted my spirits and prepared me for that dreaded series of four hills culminating in Heartbreak.

Asthe miles passed, every now and then glanced down at the hospital band on my armand thought about Scott. Every painful step I took paled in comparison to the challenges he has faced in his young life. For him, I will make it, I told myself, one mile, one step at a time.

A FOND FLASHBACK

AsIran the last four miles, I flashed back to 1978. The spectators who had lined the streets then were so loud that I had wanted to put my hands over my ears.

Lalso recalled those uncertain feelings that came from not knowing if I had actually won the race. It wasn’t until two policemen grabbed me by the arms and took me to the winner’s platform that I realized that I was, indeed, the winner.

That was 18 years ago. Today, I ran with the masses merely to reach the finish line. The spectators today weren’t cheering for the first-place woman alone—they were cheering for 38,000 runners.

As I approached the finish line, the experience, the setting, and the excitement began to dredge up even more wonderful memories of what it felt like to break the tape as the first female runner in 1978.

Now, as I approached the finish line, where the tape had long since been broken by the wonderful and inspiring Uta Pippig, I felt no less a winner, but this time I was ina race to fight leukemia on behalf of wonderful kids like Scott Ritchey.

After I finished the race, I saw the Ritcheys. We exchanged the most warm and tender celebratory hugs I had ever known. Scotty’s arms around me felt like Thad received an Olympic gold medal.

Gayle with Scott and Carolyn after the race.

We adjourned to the hotel room, where I told them about the race. I savored the peaceful spirit that filled the room. Out of the public spotlight, safely in this hotel room several floors above the street, I felt in my heart that each one of us was standing on our own victory platform, a platform that wasn’t about finishing the race, but about each of us being willing to persevere in the race called Life.

For Scotty, the challenges he faced included multiple medical treatments, tests, anda disrupted childhood.

For Sharon, it was having the courage to rise above the pains she felt from the car accident and to care for a dear child with leukemia.

For me, it was running to make a difference in Scott Ritchey’s life and the lives of all the Scott Ritcheys with leukemia. The meaning of the 1996 Boston Marathon came from making a difference in the world with my heart and not with my legs. Bs

What I Learned…

WINNING ISN’T EVERYTHING

As | reflected about running Boston in 1978 and in 1996, it became increasingly clear that my most unforgettable marathon was the one that

reached the deepest place in my heart. During my competitive years, | ran

for things that | could see and touch. Time splits, trophies, corporate

contracts, and the winner’s platform were ambitions in developing my (continued)

COURTESY OF GAYLE BARRON.

Gayle Barron MY MOST UNFORGETTABLE MARATHON @® 85

running career. In the wake of finishing the 1996 Boston Marathon, | have realized that what | cannot see is more significant. | discovered that greatness does not come from finishing first, but from making strides in obscurity to finish a race that would bring hope to Scott Ritchey, a young boy in the fight of his life. | learned that success is not yoked to taking first place butis integral to giving of one’s self so someone else can enjoy a better life.

SEEK A GOAL BEYOND YOURSELF

In 1978, after stepping down from the winner’s platform with the laurel wreath and the winner’s medallion in hand, my life would never be the same. My goal in running the “100” Boston Marathon was so that Scott’s life would never again be the same. It is truly better to give than to receive, to run with purpose from the heart instead of from the head, and to be drawn to a finish line inspired by love, not a lust for personal achievement.

MEDALS GET DUSTY, SMILES DON’T

My 1978 Boston Marathon winner’s medal is dusty, but my young friend Scott is healthy and growing stronger each day. | will never forget seeing his winning smile at the end of the 1996 Boston Marathon, nor will | ever forget the marathon | ran in his honor.

Racing secrets from the world’s best coach

dae complete running guide reveals the training and racing wisdom of the man Runner’s World called the “World’s Greatest Coach.”

Inside you’ll find

© key training principles,

° tailored training programs for events ranging from the 1500 meters to marathon,

° intensity guidelines to prevent overtraining and injury, and

1998 © Paper * 296 pp

Item PDANO735 : .

ISBN 0-88011-735-4 * much more. $16.95 ($24.95 Canadian)

Prices subject to change. 30-day money-back guarantee!

Beef stew and bowling shoes. Sticky tar, cobblestones, and gravel.

These things are no longer connected with marathon running, thank goodness, but they certainly were in the early 1900s. Luckily, the joy of running and the challenge of racing have remained constants. Marathon, Boston Marathon legend Clarence DeMar’s classic autobiography, is a fascinating look at running in an earlier era that shows readers both how far we have come and how some things never change.

“Tf long-forgotten literary jewels, legendary athletes, and the Boston Marathon are a trinity that pumps your juices as happily as it does mine, then now is a moment to pause and celebrate. Clarence DeMar’’s 1937 classic Marathon has reemerged.” Colman McCarthy The Washington Post

Visit us on the Web at www.nepress.com