A couple of you had asked me to reprise this piece I wrote a couple of years ago. Fortunately, in the transition from PC to Mac it didn't entirely disappear!
(As a reference point for those of you that don't know me well, I grew up overseas in the Diplomatic Corps of the United States. We lived in the Azores, Brasil, Japan, Brasil again, India etc. I went to school in the US for 8th, 9th and 10th grade. Oh, college too. Nevertheless, we grew up as blue blooded Americans, proud of our country and our athletes. Steve Prefontaine symbolized the United States for me...hard working, competitive, brash but fundamentally good.)
The news from the States arrived a day late in Brazil. May 31, 1975 and we were buckling down for another wet winter in Sao Paulo. It never snowed there, just got damp, cloudy and cold. Remember, in the southern hemisphere, the seasons are reversed. Dad brought home a digest of newspapers put out by the U.S. Chamber of Commerce – it was our connection in those pre-Internet, pre-Cable News days to what was happening in the USA. I remember flipping through them and having that sensation of bitter cold flow through my body when I saw the headline: “American Runner, Steve Prefontaine Killed in Car Crash.” I had lost a hero.
“Pre,” as he was known to his fans, wasn’t the prettiest runner that ever graced the track. His legs were short, a lot of his height was in his trunk, and he had a running style that was reminiscent of his background – he swung his arms, especially when he kicked almost like he was chopping wood. But he was beautiful when he competed! “I’m going to work it so that it’s a pure guts race at the end, and if it is, I’m the only one who can win it,” he said. And he did…he trained twice a day in the pre-scientific era of running and recovery. His philosophy on training was that he wanted to push his body to levels of pain that only he could bear. If he could do that then no one could keep up with him. This was the America I was proud of. Not the America that had self-immolated in front of the world as we withdrew from Vietnam in April of that year. Not the America of self-doubt of Richard Nixon and Watergate. This was the gutsy, can-do, back-to-work America that I felt I was a part of even though I was growing up overseas.
I first learned about Pre from my 8th Grade cross country coach at Mater Dei in 1971. He was a big fan of the young upstart from Coos Bay that was going to the Munich Olympics to restore American running to its grandeur. He regaled us with stories about Pre’s competitive spirit which motivated us to try harder in our battles with St. Alban’s (the Protestant boy’s school in D.C.). Showing up late and seemingly unprepared for the NCAA Championship Meet in Eugene in 1970, Pre turned to a stunned Frank Shorter (who was his closest rival) and said: “I will destroy you and everything you believe in.” Not exactly the model of great sportsmanship, but a master of the “head game.” Shorter, who had beaten Pre earlier that year in Florida was left flat footed and later admitted “I was so surprised by his remark that I never recovered to race.” The two continued to be great friends until Pre’s unfortunate passing. Mater Dei beat St. Alban’s and Landon that year…it had never happened before.
He owned every (8) American record between 2,000 and 10,000 meters and between two miles and six miles. He also held eight collegiate records while at Oregon, with his three-mile (12:53.4) and six-mile (27:09.4) still standing. During his career, he broke his own or other American records 14 different times, broke the four-minute barrier nine times, ran 25 two-mile races under 8:40 and 10 5K races faster than 13:30.
At the 1972 Olympics in Munich, the disruption caused by the Arab terrorists when they killed 11 Israeli athletes weighed heavily on Pre and he finished a disappointing 4th in the 5K, well behind the great Lasse Viren of Finland. The coach at my high school, Georgetown Prep, was certain that Pre would be back in 1976 and would carry the day then. He too, was a Pre fan and had actually met Bill Bowerman, Pre’s coach and swapped tips with him. His philosophy was that if you didn’t throw up after crossing the finish line, you weren’t trying hard enough. Cross country was not about outsmarting the competition, it was a mano a mano death struggle to see who could hurt more. Despite that, I kept running, largely because of Pre. We had these workouts on our golf course where we would see who could run the most number of hills in a row before buckling over…we wanted to make our competitors hurt like Pre made his hurt.
By sophomore year, Prep had the toughest team in the league and I was fortunate enough to make my conversion. I read something in a running magazine that Pre had said: "Some people create with words, or with music, or with a brush and paints. I like to make something beautiful when I run. I like to make people stop and say, ‘I've never seen anyone run like that before.’ It's more then just a race, it's a style. It's doing something better then anyone else. It's being creative." I realized it wasn’t about the pain…it was about doing something well…it was about trying my best, or as Pre would put it: “To give anything less than your best is to sacrifice your Gift.” Running became enjoyable!
I kept running even after cross country season. I ran to see things…like Forrest Gump, I ran to get places. I ran because it was beautiful. Regrettably, I strayed for several years away from that…college and the Navy was hard on a runner. But I was fortunate enough to come back. I came back to running initially to help me stop smoking…then it was about the competition. Finally, on a crisp fall day in 1993 as I was running a trail in Warner Park, lost in my thoughts, I realized again that it was about the beauty and the giving of a Gift. This is the essence of what I hope to pass on to the kids who toe the line for Christ the King…it’s about the satisfaction of having done the job well. Or again, as Pre might put it: “Over the years I’ve given myself a thousand reasons to keep running, but it always comes back to where it started…self satisfaction and a sense of achievement.”
A few days after Pre died, a somber ceremony was held at Hayword Field at the University of Oregon. The hearse, carrying his body was brought onto the track and it slowly circled the infield four times…the distance of a mile. At the first lap, the crowd was standing and silent. At the second some smattering of applause. At the third, the familiar chant of “Go PRE!” was heard and by the fourth lap it was deafening. The clock read 3:14…he could have run another quarter mile and still been under four minutes.
I first learned about Pre from my 8th Grade cross country coach at Mater Dei in 1971. He was a big fan of the young upstart from Coos Bay that was going to the Munich Olympics to restore American running to its grandeur. He regaled us with stories about Pre’s competitive spirit which motivated us to try harder in our battles with St. Alban’s (the Protestant boy’s school in D.C.). Showing up late and seemingly unprepared for the NCAA Championship Meet in Eugene in 1970, Pre turned to a stunned Frank Shorter (who was his closest rival) and said: “I will destroy you and everything you believe in.” Not exactly the model of great sportsmanship, but a master of the “head game.” Shorter, who had beaten Pre earlier that year in Florida was left flat footed and later admitted “I was so surprised by his remark that I never recovered to race.” The two continued to be great friends until Pre’s unfortunate passing. Mater Dei beat St. Alban’s and Landon that year…it had never happened before.
He owned every (8) American record between 2,000 and 10,000 meters and between two miles and six miles. He also held eight collegiate records while at Oregon, with his three-mile (12:53.4) and six-mile (27:09.4) still standing. During his career, he broke his own or other American records 14 different times, broke the four-minute barrier nine times, ran 25 two-mile races under 8:40 and 10 5K races faster than 13:30.
At the 1972 Olympics in Munich, the disruption caused by the Arab terrorists when they killed 11 Israeli athletes weighed heavily on Pre and he finished a disappointing 4th in the 5K, well behind the great Lasse Viren of Finland. The coach at my high school, Georgetown Prep, was certain that Pre would be back in 1976 and would carry the day then. He too, was a Pre fan and had actually met Bill Bowerman, Pre’s coach and swapped tips with him. His philosophy was that if you didn’t throw up after crossing the finish line, you weren’t trying hard enough. Cross country was not about outsmarting the competition, it was a mano a mano death struggle to see who could hurt more. Despite that, I kept running, largely because of Pre. We had these workouts on our golf course where we would see who could run the most number of hills in a row before buckling over…we wanted to make our competitors hurt like Pre made his hurt.
By sophomore year, Prep had the toughest team in the league and I was fortunate enough to make my conversion. I read something in a running magazine that Pre had said: "Some people create with words, or with music, or with a brush and paints. I like to make something beautiful when I run. I like to make people stop and say, ‘I've never seen anyone run like that before.’ It's more then just a race, it's a style. It's doing something better then anyone else. It's being creative." I realized it wasn’t about the pain…it was about doing something well…it was about trying my best, or as Pre would put it: “To give anything less than your best is to sacrifice your Gift.” Running became enjoyable!
I kept running even after cross country season. I ran to see things…like Forrest Gump, I ran to get places. I ran because it was beautiful. Regrettably, I strayed for several years away from that…college and the Navy was hard on a runner. But I was fortunate enough to come back. I came back to running initially to help me stop smoking…then it was about the competition. Finally, on a crisp fall day in 1993 as I was running a trail in Warner Park, lost in my thoughts, I realized again that it was about the beauty and the giving of a Gift. This is the essence of what I hope to pass on to the kids who toe the line for Christ the King…it’s about the satisfaction of having done the job well. Or again, as Pre might put it: “Over the years I’ve given myself a thousand reasons to keep running, but it always comes back to where it started…self satisfaction and a sense of achievement.”
A few days after Pre died, a somber ceremony was held at Hayword Field at the University of Oregon. The hearse, carrying his body was brought onto the track and it slowly circled the infield four times…the distance of a mile. At the first lap, the crowd was standing and silent. At the second some smattering of applause. At the third, the familiar chant of “Go PRE!” was heard and by the fourth lap it was deafening. The clock read 3:14…he could have run another quarter mile and still been under four minutes.
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