First Marathons: Jeff R.

The worst guy on the high school cross country team told me he was running Palos Verdes. The idea was so ridiculous what I said to him can't be printed here. So I told him that I would do it just to beat him.

The event was only a month and change away, so I increased my Saturday long run to 12 miles, then 14, 16, and then 18 miles. After the 18 mile run, I had to lie down. I wondered, "if I feel like this, how can I go the 26 mile distance?"

This was 1968. I didn't know anyone who had run a marathon. There weren't any "how to" books or other publications about marathon running, and the internet hadn't yet been thought of. I asked myself "what are you going to do? I don't know. I don't know isn't an answer."

After thinking about it for awhile, I thought that maybe I could finish it if I ran a minute per mile slower than the 18 miler I just completed. I thought, "that's really slow. Got any better ideas? No." So that was the plan.

I get to the start, and of course, this guy was nowhere to be found. There were 300-400 of us. Mostly older guys from Seniors Track Club or Southern California Striders, some college athletes who wanted to run a fast marathon before joining the working world, and a few high school runners like me.

Fortunately, it was cold and overcast that December day (Palos Verdes switched dates from December to May the next year as to not conflict with the Culver City Marathon, which was run around Thanksgiving). Two AAU officials were stationed five miles apart, one writing down our race number, the second one calling out our time. There were also a group of people at the cloverleaf at mile 22 to make sure no one cut the course. Some kind people put out card tables with cups of water on them (this was the pre-aid station era) in front of their homes.

I ran the 26 and change miles through beautiful neighborhoods and by a golf course, alone. I knew I had it when the last mile was a downhill, leading into a park. I heard a band playing. Locals were lining the last 200 yards of the course, applauding everyone who finished. They must have been there for awhile, because they were applauding me as well. I crossed the finish line and received my finisher shirt. Palos Verdes shirts always said 'finisher' on them, so no finish, no shirt.

When I crossed the finish line, it hit me. "You know, if I can finish a marathon, if I believe in myself and work hard, I can accomplish a lot more than I thought I could." I cannot begin to tell you how much this has helped me in other aspects of my life. This was nearly 56 years ago, and I remember it like it was yesterday.