©MarathonFoto

My Most Unforgettable

Marathon

(And what | learned from it.)

thon was unforgettable: sadly, tragically memorable. It was also inspiringly

B OSTON, MASSACHUSETTS, April 21, 1997—Of course, the 2013 Boston Maramemorable due to the subsequent outpouring of solidarity for our sport. But

I cannot call it my most unforgettable marathon nor even the most memorable

Boston of the 15 I have run. Some people are surprised when I say this.

Could my most unforgettable be the 100th Boston in 1996? How can that one be topped? First there was all the fanfare leading up to it. Then there was the event itself on a beautiful sun-filled day sandwiched between two days of nasty cold and rain. An astounding 40,000 runners were handled with precision and care. It was the ultimate celebration for all of us fortunate enough to have achieved an entry, but my most unforgettable marathon? Not quite.

My thoughts wandered back a decade. How about my first Boston—1986? The race date, the school bus trip to Hopkinton, and the course

<4 The author at the glorious 100th running of the Boston Marathon, not far from the location where runners were stopped in the 2013 race.

were the same as they are today, but that’s about it. I was one of around 7,000 entrants, and of those about 1,000 were women. At age 39, I needed a 3:20 to qualify, and I achieved this at the 1985 California International Marathon. A close

of the last chances to qualify and still be able to enter! In Hopkinton prior to the noon start, women entrants were allowed to take over the classrooms of the grammar school (next to the athletic field, where the current Athletes’ Village is located). We had our own sweet lady volunteers, our own bathrooms, and our own company. Complete results were published in the Boston Globe the next day. Of course, my first Boston is very high on my list as unforgettable.

But shouldn’t my most unforgettable be my first marathon, the 1984 California International Marathon? It was a life-changing experience, as it is for so many. It opened a world of challenges, camaraderie, improved mental and physical fitness, and even a career change. My business as a graphic designer/editor grew out of my volunteer position as editor of the Buffalo Enquirer, the news magazine of my running club (the Buffalo Chips). I have run 60 marathons since then, and yet…

I’ve settled on my 1997 Boston as my most unforgettable marathon. It tops the previous four for reasons that make it unique among my 60 marathons and for the special lessons and insights it gave me.

Early that year, I persuaded my 82-year-old mother, a grande dame of the San Francisco variety, to make the trip with me and to see firsthand what all this marathoning fuss was about. She was the one who would ask, “Are you going to do that ‘Boston thing’ again this year?” She was not a huge fan of my sport, worried over my lean body type (“Poor Tim [my husband] . . . must be like hugging a broomstick’), and rather hoped I would spend more time gardening and hosting teas.

Once in Boston, I happily shared my favorite Boston haunts with her, soaked in the city’s support of the marathon, and lunched at the Harvard Faculty Club with my Harvard-professor cousin. Mom got to know several of my Buffalo Chips Running Club friends. She fit right in! By the end of the weekend, I knew she had a

P (Left to right) The author, cousin Janet Patrick, and the author’s mom, Frankie Weed, in Bethesda, Maryland, the week following the 1997 Boston Marathon.

Courtesy of Stewart Patrick

=—_~.

clear understanding of the spirit and inspiration of my sport. What better place to discover this than at the venerable Boston itself?

A goal of mine over my years of running Boston had been to place in the top 10 in my age division (a top-three placing always seemed just a bit too much

50-59 age division. My longtime goal should be more attainable than ever, and although my training for Boston was always focused, I now had a bigger incentive to train more seriously. Race-day weather was OK by Boston standards, I ran a consistent pace, and although those last few miles were exceptionally hard, [held on for a strong 3:23 finish. Then the icing on my Boston-experience cake occurred the following morning: the results in the Boston Globe showed I had placed fourth in the 50-59 age division. So along with the heartwarming time I enjoyed “educating” my mom, achieving this long-sought goal is another reason why the 1997 Boston is my most memorable marathon.

But there’s more!

We extended our trip for 10 days to visit friends and relatives in Washington, DC, and then in Jacksonville, Florida. When I returned, Tim told me that the Boston Athletic Association wanted me to call as soon as possible. He had no idea why. When I spoke to the representative at the B.A.A., she informed me that the woman who had placed first in the 50-59 age division had been disqualified, since she had not been seen on any of the surveillance tapes. Second, third, and fourth places all were moved up a notch, landing me in the #3 spot. The B.A.A. representative offered sincere apologies since I had not been able to stand on the podium at the awards ceremony, but she also said my award (an engraved crystal vase) was on its way. I was stunned and elated, and yes, a bit frustrated, all at once. When the lovely award arrived a few days later, it brought tears to my eyes. I had earned a real, honest-togoodness age-division award at Boston. My emotions were also tinged with

a maps

APRIL 1997

Ascan of the author’s running log (April
21 to April 27 1997) shows her 1997 Boston Marathon splits, with her 1998 splits
below.

Courtesy of Cynci Calvin

annoyance about the person who had come so close to robbing three people of their proper awards and recognition. It sits in my living room as a visual tribute to my determination that got me through those cold, or rainy, or hot workouts; to my Buffalo Chips friends and coach without whom my training might not have achieved the quality I needed; and of course to Lady Luck.

Bogus finishers

I know the 1980 Boston Rosy Ruiz story. Also, in the early 1980s a top woman finisher named Candy Dodge earned a place in infamy on the Northern California running scene after she was disqualified for allegedly not running the entire course at several high-profile events, including the San Francisco Marathon. Now I started to learn more about the Boston 1997 woman who can be added to this list.

It turned out that two age-division winners had been DQ’d at the 1997 Boston Marathon: a married couple from Cypress, California, named John and Suzanne Murphy. John (age 64) crossed the finish line in 2:43:09 for the second-fastest time ever in Boston’s M60-69 age division, and Suzanne (age 59) finished in 3:12:18, the fifth-fastest time in Boston’s W50-59 age division.

Bart Yasso at Runner’s World magazine later told me he was with some friends cheering on the finishers at the half-mile-to-go mark. They saw a chunky older guy wearing an official bib number amid the runners on pace for a sub-2:45 finish. Their unanimous comment was, “No way!” Bart sent me this email:

“T was near Hereford and Commonwealth Avenue at the 25.8-mile mark, watching all of the very fit-looking runners holding sub-6:15 per-mile pace. They all had that lean—almost gaunt—look about them. Next thing I see is a man with what I would call a beer belly. He was holding his own, running very close to the 6:15-per-mile pace. I turned to my Runner’s World colleague and said, ‘That dude started at Fenway,’ which is about three-quarters of a mile away from our intersection.”

They were not alone in noticing the discrepancy.

To learn more for this article, I contacted longtime Boston Marathon race official Steve Vaitones. He explained the procedure used by the Boston Marathon for maintaining the integrity of the event results and gave me a rundown of how the day unfolded.

“This was before lots of chip-timing backup—start/ half/finish mats were all that were on the course, not every 5K. All officials were (and still are) deputized to look for people or activities that seem out of place on the course and at the finish line. Before I headed in to work on the results review, three officials handed me notes with the bib numbers of runners

who just didn’t look quite right at the time they finished. I filed them in my pocket for later review.

“Going through results, we look at the placers for previous achievements to announce at the awards ceremony, and, at that time, to also see if there were any questions. Mr. Murphy had run just 25 seconds off the M60 US marathon record (at age 64). That was 14 minutes faster than Boston 1996 and faster than his last marathon, which was in March. That race was faster than his next previous, in January. And that was faster than the previous from the late fall. All were national-level times, with four approaching world-level age 60-plus times in just over six months? Maybe not.

“Then we reviewed the women’s times, and we see a placer—Murphy— same city. We track a similar history. This was all being done in just a few hours before the 6:00 p.m. awards ceremony.

“So the decision was made to hold the results and not announce those age-division awards.

“Some of the next-lower placers had questions after the awards ceremony, but the Murphys didn’t show up for the awards ceremony. In one of the calls from the B.A.A. as this unfolded, they later said they didn’t think they would have won anything and also weren’t aware of the quality of their times. Knowing how most masters, particularly as you get to 60-plus, are very knowledgeable on their age-group competition, this was another red flag.

“Those notes I received from the finish line officials: all three had Mr. Murphy’s number, his finish time of 2:43, and two words, ‘no way.’”

The next step? Boston officials spent 11 days checking and rechecking surveillance videos from cameras placed in multiple (and secret) locations along the course. They found no sign of either of the Murphys, although their timing chips did register at the three mats (start, halfway, and finish). They then contacted the Murphys and asked them to provide evidence of their running the entire course by coming to Boston and finding themselves on the tapes. They declined to do this, but they insisted their finish times were properly attained, offering the explanation that their bib numbers may have been obscured. On May 1, the B.A.A. announced the Murphys’ disqualification.

Excerpt from the Los Angeles Times article “Cypress Duo Stripped of Race

Titles”

“May 02, 1997ICHRIS FOSTER | LA TIMES STAFF WRITER

“Suzanne Murphy said Thursday she and her husband wore computer chips on their shoes and that she wore a shirt through the early part of the race that might have obscured her number.

“The race uses a combination of computer-chip registration points at the beginning, midpoint, and end of the course and surveillance cameras mounted at secret points throughout the race.

““We were wearing chips just like they do in LA, so I didn’t think seeing the number was all that important,’ said Murphy, who added that she has run the Boston Marathon seven times.”

As I continued to learn more, a key question surfaced. Who were the other people who officially received their 50-59 age-division awards? I am sure that they, like me, were thrilled to simply receive their awards, but I want to acknowledge them in this article. The winners were available online, but I had no luck finding the second- and third-place men and the second-place woman. Steve Vaitones helped me out once again, and here are these awardees and their times:

1997 Men 60-69 (current course record: Clive Davies, Oregon, 2:43:20, 1981)

¢ Anthony Cerminaro, 60, Jermyn, PA, 2:54:17 ¢ Bill Riley, 60, Marstons Mills, MA, 3:04:47 ¢ Malcolm Gillis, 64, Toney, AL, 3:10:15