I felt incredibly honored Tuesday night to be inducted into the Colorado Running Hall of Fame. I felt very blessed, and have a lot of people to thank. Here’s the speech I gave:
I feel sorry for people who don’t have a passion in life. I’m blessed to have several, and running is one of them. I’m also known, because I’m a passionate guy, to get teary eyed at moments like this when I’m really happy.
I remember sitting on the curb at the finish line of the Chicago Marathon when I qualified for Boston. I call my wife and the first thing she says is, “You’re crying, aren’t you?”
I often get teary eyed at big races. I’ll go to the starting line of the Bolder Boulder and I’ll realize that there are 30,000, 40,000, 50,000 people who love the sport as much as I do. You feel all of that energy. You feel, again, blessed.
The day I got the wonderful news about this hall of fame, I picked up my son at a friend’s house. I told him about this and he seemed very impressed. Didn’t say much on the way home, and as we’re getting out of the car, he says, “Do you think you’re going to cry at the induction?” I said, “I’m sure I will.” He paused for a second and said, “I might, too.”
And that means even more to me than this great honor tonight, but I can tell you this is without question one of the proudest days of my life.
When I ran my first road race in 1978, the Gasparilla 15K in Tampa, I made a rookie mistake. I was running late, I couldn’t find a parking space, I literally had to run to the starting line. I didn’t have the time to go back where I belonged, so I literally was at the starting line. I’m standing at the curb, I look down the line, I see Frank Shorter, Bill Rodgers, and Grete Waitz. Never in my wildest dreams could I have thought that some day I’d be in a hall of fame with Frank Shorter.
When I wrote about Mark Plaatjes in 1993, what an amazing immigrant story, world championship gold medal in 1993 — I could go on for hours about what a great human being he is, what a great athlete he is – I never could have imagined that I would be in the same hall of fame with him.
And when I fell in love with running in the 1970s in St. Petersburg, Fla., little did I know that God would put me here in Denver, the absolute best place in the world to be a runner and to write about running. It was here I would write about legends like Frank, Mark, Steve Jones, Ellen Hart, Deena Kastor – people who became friends.
Clearly I’m not being inducted into this hall of fame for my running ability. I did almost break 3:30 once in the marathon, and I’m still annoyed about that 47 seconds. However, my friend Steve Krebs said more than once, “If you qualified for Boston, you’re a good runner,” so I’ll take that.
I’m probably one of the slowest in this hall of fame, but nobody in this hall of fame loves running more than I do. I try to bring that to my writing.
I have such great memories. One of them is the New York City Marathon, the year of 9/11. I was extremely fit at the time and thought I was going to run a good race, and suddenly the Twin Towers are crumbling in flames. We didn’t know if there would be a New York City Marathon five weeks later, but we went. I never will forget leaving the hotel at 6 o’clock in the morning, walking to the New York Public Library where you get on busses to go to the starting line. A guy pulls over, rolls down his window and says, “Thanks, you’re doing a great thing for New York,” because we had come to run in the city that day.
We had people in Brooklyn yelling, “Today, you’re the heroes!” We had firefighters saying, “Don’t you quit, don’t you dare quit!” I learned later that was one of the things that were said during the rescues on 9/11 …
Seeing Deena Kastor and Meb Keflezighi winning marathon medals at the 2004 Athens Olympics, when only four years before that, the United States could only qualify one man and one woman in the marathon because American running had hit a nadir. To see Deena win her bronze medal, to see Meb win his silver medal … And then the day after Deena wins her medal, to have coach Joe Vigil call me and seek me out, “Let’s go get a cup of coffee and talk about this.” Joe Vigil was Deena’s coach, he’s in this hall of fame, he’s one of the most remarkable men I’ve ever met. And for him to want to talk to me, not for a story, just to share the moment — what a great moment it was for American running — I’ll never forget.
But probably the most powerful memory, partly because it combined both hats that I wear as an athlete and as a journalist, was the weekend of 2007 in New York. I was there to cover the Olympic Trials (marathon) and then run the New York City Marathon the next day. I remember going to the starting line full of excitement to see this great competition, people running to be on the Olympic team, in New York City. Going to the starting line, it was live on the Today Show, watching the start, and now all these non-elite runners who had gathered to watch the start – all in town for the marathon the next day – are all running to Central Park. There was a mass of humanity running down Seventh Avenue to get to Central Park where the majority of the race would be held.
It was just a wonderfully exciting day, a great day to be alive. Then a coach came up and said, “There’s a rumor that Ryan Shay died.” A few minutes later, Joe Vigil comes up, slaps my back, shakes my hand, “How are you doing? Let’s go watch the race.” I realized: “Oh my God, Ryan Shay is dead and Joe doesn’t know yet. I’m certainly not going to be the one to tell him.” But a couple hours later I had to interview Joe – Joe was his coach, Joe had introduced me to Ryan at a training camp in Mammoth.
The reason I tell this story at such length is because of what happened the next day …The next day was the perfect antidote for tens of thousands of people, to run that race the day after Ryan died. Because like any marathon, especially a big city marathon, it was such an affirmation of the triumph of the human spirit. Whether you’re finishing in three hours or four hours or 2:05. It was therapeutic — I know I thought about Ryan many times during that race…
One of the things I love about our sport is that it’s the only sport I can think of where the elite athletes inspire the recreational athletes, but that goes both ways. I’ve talked to a lot of elite athletes about the spirit they feel from all those people running behind them, because we’re all doing the same thing and we all love it…
Racing is a risk – the risk of failure. I was at a hall of fame induction a couple weeks ago for the mountaineering museum and the great Everest climber Tom Hornbein was honored … He talked about how there is risk associated with mountaineering, not just the risk of death, but the risk of failure. Mountaineers and runners are not people who say, “I don’t want to try to climb because I might not make it.” “I don’t want to try to run a marathon because I might not be able to do it.” Tom said, “We see the mountains as our place of self-discovery.” That’s what I love about our sport, at the elite level and at the level where I run. It’s an opportunity for self-discovery, to find out how good you are, how fast you can be, how bad do you want it, how bad can you hurt…
I’m really, really flattered that Billy Kidd is here, one of America’s great ski racers, Olympic medal in 1964, I can’t believe he came all the way from Steamboat just for me, but I really appreciate it.
I want to thank the Colfax Marathon for creating the hall of fame. I remember standing in John Raveling’s store when it was just an idea. And, yeah, I thought, if they can pull that together, I hope some day I’m a part of that.
I’ve got great running friends. If you aren’t a runner, you can’t understand the camaraderie that’s formed with a group of runners … Other friends – Rich Castro, the true unsung hero of Boulder running, just a tireless devotee to what’s going on with Boulder running.
Creigh Kelley. If Creigh Kelley is your friend, you’re a really lucky person.
I have to thank The Denver Post. I’ve told a whole series of editors how important the running beat is in this state, how important the endurance beat is in this state. I’ve never had to fight a battle. They’ve all understood it … They’ve allowed me the space to write about running in this community and how incredibly important it is. I think any news organization in this city that doesn’t get it about running and endurance sports is really missing a great opportunity. Fortunately The Denver Post has always been totally behind me.
I have to thank my family, starting with my wife Liz for letting me spend every Memorial Day running and writing, for letting me go on my weekend long runs when I’m in training for a marathon, for letting me get on airplanes and go to marathons. And for being proud of me today.
I’m not going to talk about my kids, because I would be up here for the next hour, and I know you don’t want that. I will just say, in closing, that my prayer tonight is that my kids find careers that are as rewarding and close to their passions as mine. Because if you find those, you’ll never work a day in your life.
Thank you.
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