Staying the Course

A Runner's Toughest Race

Dick Beardsley and Maureen Anderson

What follows is an excerpt from Chapter Four, "The Boston Marathon."

I was standing there, going crazy with anxiety, when the announcer said, "One minute to start!" Suddenly I felt a tap on my shoulder. I looked back. It was this buddy of mine, Barney Klecker from Minnesota. Barney was a good marathoner. He said, "Dickie! Did you double-knot your shoes?"
ooooo"Barney," I said. "I never double-knot my shoes. Just forget it. They'll be fine."
oooooNow there were forty seconds left. I felt another tap.
ooooo"Dickie!" Barney insisted. "You'd better double-tie your shoes!"
ooooo"Barney!" I snapped, "I'm not double-tying my shoes. Leave me alone! I'll be fine. Good luck." But I was ticked off.
oooooThen it got to me and I thought, oh man, Barney's a good friend of mine. He was just trying to help me out. I turned around to tell him thanks, I'll double-tie my shoes--but he wasn't there. I looked down and there he was, double-tying my shoes for me! I couldn't believe it.
oooooThe announcer said, "Fifteen seconds!" By now Barney had finished with my shoelaces. People were inching ahead and I was screaming for someone to get this rope out of the way. With ten seconds to go, they finally dropped it.
oooooThe gun went off, and it was like Salazar was shot out of a cannon. He took off like Carl Lewis in the hundred-yard dash. I was right with him. I was right on his butt. The first half mile was narrow, downhill. We were flying.
oooooYou have to fly at first, to get away from everyone else. Because the last thing you want to do is get tripped, have someone catch your heel, have your shoe come off . . . you'd be screwed for the rest of the race.
oooooWe got to the bottom of the hill and there was this little kid with a cup of water. I thought, what the heck. It wasn't an official aid station, but it was hot and I wanted water right away. I tried to grab the water and the kid pulled it away from me. Great. This was going to be good. Now there was another kid offering water. I reached for it again, and this one pulled it away too. What? Were they saving it for their dads? Maybe they got scared.
oooooWe went through the first mile in four minutes, thirty-eight seconds: suicidal. There was no way anyone could hold that pace, but I knew it was going to be like that and I had practiced it in workouts. To go out hard, then sit back a bit.
oooooWe were going along and I felt like crap. It was hot, my feet felt awkward, I felt bloated. I'd been drinking so much I felt waterlogged, but I hoped that would help me toward the end.
oooooAt about three miles I thought, this might not be my day. My feet were burning, really burning. I found out later a retired anesthesiologist--Dr. Alex Ratelle, who was running the marathon--took a temperature reading of the pavement at the ten-mile mark and it was 105°. No wonder my feet were hot.
oooooThere was a big pack of runners, dozens of us. I was up in the lead pack. I wasn't leading, but at this point I didn't want to be. I just wanted to get comfortable. At about five miles we went by a lake and there was a guy and a gal out there canoeing. Rodgers tapped me on the shoulder and said, "Hey Dickie! Wouldn't it be nice to be out there right now?" I laughed. "Man, would it ever!" Salazar didn't look like he was feeling very well, but I didn't think anyone was.
oooooI knew if I gave it enough time I'd probably start feeling better. At about six, seven miles I started to find my rhythm. I felt better, and my feet weren't hurting like they had been.
oooooWe were going along, I was feeling good, and these guys started doing surges. I thought, oh man, don't start doing this stuff now. Salazar apparently thought the same thing because he said, "Those dumb asses! Look at those--" and he got upset.
oooooThe thing with surges is, they get everybody excited. Pretty soon, someone else goes, then someone else. You can't get left behind. You have to go with them, too. And on a hot day, you have to conserve early on. We were running fast enough as it was.
oooooEvery mile that went by, another guy dropped off. We got to about ten miles and were running well under a five-minute pace, but I felt good. I was comfortable.
oooooIt seems like nobody works in Boston on Patriot's Day. They all come to watch the marathon. Today was a perfect day for spectators. They estimated the crowd at two million. People were ten and twenty deep on each side. There were parties, bands, everywhere. You ran by Wellesley College at about the halfway point and the girls--it was an all-girls school--were going nuts. They were screaming so loud you could hardly hear anything at all. I got pumped. I fed off crowds. They helped me a lot.
oooooWe went through Framingham, the town where Salazar grew up. There was a Nike store in the area and he ran for Nike. There were signs everywhere and people leaning out of the windows hollering, "Alberto! Go get 'em!" They were screaming. All of a sudden he looked over at me, then looked back at the crowd and started waving to everyone on his side of the course.
oooooI thought, you're not going to get to me. Two can play at this. I nudged Salazar so he looked at me, then turned toward people on my side of the course and waved to them, even though they weren't cheering for me. I looked back at Salazar and he looked ticked.
oooooWhen you had two guys like us who were so evenly matched from a conditioning standpoint, it was a mental competition: a chess game.
oooooI offered Salazar water a lot. He never offered me any, but then, he hardly ever took any for himself. I think from about the point we broke away from everybody else, every time I got water I offered it to him. I wasn't trying to get to him by doing that, like I was so confident I could afford to help him out. It was just that it was so hot. I took water every chance I got.
oooooI kept a sponge tucked in my shorts during marathons. I'd take one drink, then maybe pour another one over my head. Then I took another one to pour on my sponge. I'd learned that if my legs started to go dead I could just squeeze the sponge, feel the water run down my legs, and be refreshed. It felt really good.
oooooAt about fourteen, fifteen miles, almost everyone had dropped back, and we were down to four runners. Salazar, Rodgers, Ed Mendoza, and me.
oooooWe came down a big hill at about fifteen miles, and Rodgers took off. I followed. At this point, you had to go, even though there were still ten miles left. You couldn't let anybody get way out in front. The four of us surged ahead, we got to the bottom of the hill, and started up another long one. As soon as we started up, Rodgers dropped right back. We climbed that hill and at seventeen miles took a sharp turn at one of the fire halls. Then we were on the road that took us into downtown Boston. That's where we started what were four major hills on the course, culminating in Heartbreak Hill--the big one everybody talks about.
oooooJust before we turned, I knew Rodgers was finished, at least as far as contention for the win.
oooooNow there were three of us. Salazar, Mendoza, and me. I looked at Salazar, I looked at Mendoza. Mendoza looked good. He was hardly sweating, he was up on his toes, he looked fresh. We took a right turn at the firehouse and it was like Mendoza stepped off the edge of the earth. He was just gone. He dropped out of the race, right there.
oooooNow there were two. Salazar and me.
oooooEverybody had been talking about how it was going to come down to a two-man race, Salazar and Beardsley. That's hard to predict, though. Of course, Salazar knew I was probably the one he'd have to worry about. I knew he was the one I'd have to beat.
oooooWe made the turn at the seventeen-mile mark and started four miles of hills. The crowds were unbelievable. There was no crowd control. After our race they finally got some, but that day there was none. As we went through the hills, there was maybe enough room for Salazar and me to run side by side if we would have wanted to, but that was about it. People on each side of the street could have reached out and touched people on the other side. That's how close they were. It was so thick with spectators you couldn't even see how the hills went up. It was just this mass of humanity, people hanging out of trees or whatever. And the noise!
oooooThe bedlam took my mind off the hurt. We were both starting to feel the effects of the race.
oooooMy goal going into the marathon was, if I could get to the top of Heartbreak Hill at twenty-one miles and still be in the lead or within striking distance, I'd have a good shot at the win.
oooooWe were running through those four miles of hills faster than anyone had ever run through them before. I put the hammer down. I tried to bury Salazar. I wanted him to hurt bad. I knew he was hurting, but then I was, too.
oooooGoing into this race, Salazar had never had anybody with him in a marathon after sixteen miles. He'd always been alone the last ten miles after breaking away from everybody.
oooooNow we were at the top of Heartbreak Hill and I was thinking, okay, Salazar's never been in this spot before. From about the ten-mile point I'd been leading, but never by more than a couple of strides. Salazar wasn't able to control the race and I knew he was just hanging on.
oooooThen again, so was I.
oooooThe thing that got me through all the hills was thinking I could lose Salazar, but it hadn't worked. Coming down off Heartbreak Hill, I got to the bottom and thought, man, he's still here. I got dejected. There were about five miles left and it was getting tough to stay focused.
oooooThe crowd helped, though. They were going nuts. It seemed like everyone had a radio. They'd never seen a race where at twenty-one miles two guys were running together. People were hanging all over the place trying to see where we were, sirens were blaring, and it was exhilarating.
oooooI got down to the bottom of the hill and my legs were dead. I couldn't feel my legs from the waist down. They were numb. If I have to stop and tie a shoe, I thought, I won't be able to get going again. My legs were on automatic pilot. Something was telling them to put one foot in front of the other, honest to God.
oooooOh man, five miles left. Five miles to go in a training run was nothing. But in a marathon, it was forever.
oooooI thought, Dickie, you have to get that out of your mind. Forget you have five miles left. You know even if you're hurting bad you can go at least another mile. I decided to try something. I was talking to myself, out loud, though not so loud Salazar could hear.
ooooo"Okay, Dick. You've come this far. You're in the lead. All you have to do is run one more mile."
oooooOne more mile, I told myself.
oooooI finished mile twenty-two and got to twenty-three.
ooooo"Okay, Dick. You're still in the lead. One more mile. That's all you have to do."
oooooJust one more mile.
oooooI reached mile twenty-four. It was working!
oooooI was hurting bad, but I knew Salazar had to be hurting just as bad--because he was never able to just spurt ahead. We were both hurting.
oooooWe were killing each other. I'm serious.
oooooI had no idea how fast we were running. Didn't care. It didn't matter. I had no idea we were running at record pace. In the last few miles I'd been able to tell where Salazar was without looking back because I could see his shadow. Every time I saw his shadow I picked up the pace a little bit, and didn't let him go by me.
oooooAll of a sudden I saw this huge shadow and I thought, what, did Salazar eat his spinach and turn into a big Popeye or something? I looked over my shoulder and it was a press bus. Coming straight down the middle of the street right behind us. They had to get to the finish line before we did, but the crowds were so thick they had to plow right through where we were running. The bus hit my shoulder as it went by. I was ticked.
oooooSalazar had seen the bus coming and kind of cut behind it. I was so upset I punched the bus. I found out later Salazar wondered why I got so mad, wasted energy and all that. But it scared me. By the time I saw it, it was right on my shoulder. I was venting, and it felt good.
oooooThe bus threw diesel fuel back and the crowd kept the fumes in. I was still in the lead.
oooooAbout a half mile down the road, all of a sudden this guy in a big long coat came out and grabbed me and tried to stuff something in my pants. I didn't know what he was doing. Then the guy stuffed some money into Salazar's shorts. This was weird. I was just a farm kid from Minnesota. What was going on?
oooooNow we were about a mile and a half from the finish line. The crowds were so thick we almost had to run single file. There was so much noise my ears were ringing. It was like standing on the ground next to a jet airplane about to take off. My ears hurt. I couldn't hear myself think.
oooooSalazar and I were running along so close. As close as I'd ever want a guy to be. He was right in my back pocket.
oooooTwenty-five point two miles.
oooooThat's what it said on the pavement in front of me, in bright blue and yellow paint: "25.2 miles. One mile to go!"
oooooOh my God.
oooooMy God, Dick, you have one mile to go and you're going to win this race!
oooooI couldn't stop thinking that. I knew Dad was at home watching everything on TV and suddenly I started crying. I thought of my high school graduation present, the tears were streaming down my cheeks, and my legs were turning to rubber.
ooooo"Dick!" I thought. "Get a hold of yourself!"
oooooI literally shook myself and said, "Dick! Get into this! Don't be thinking about that!"
oooooNow the crowd was really going nuts. I was hurting, but I was pumped. I knew Salazar was also. With about a half mile to go I had the biggest lead of the race and it was about two strides. It wasn't much, but at this point, it may as well have been a mile. And I thought, Dick, this is it. Salazar doesn't have a big kick, but it's better than yours. You have to go for the win right now.
oooooA half mile to go.
oooooI pushed off with my right leg, and all of a sudden I got a charley horse in my right hamstring. You could see the knots bulging out of my leg. I couldn't run! Well, I could run--but the leg was useless, and I slowed down a little.
oooooSalazar flew by me and I thought, oh my God. I started crying again.
oooooI thought, my God, I've come this far only to get a charley horse?
oooooFor about the first time in my entire life, I wondered, why is this happening? I got selfish. I thought, there are thousands of runners out here. Why is this happening to me?
oooooI couldn't see Salazar anymore. The motorcycle cops were blocking my view of him. They thought I was out of the race, that it was just going to be Salazar now.
oooooI was doing the best I could, running, but I couldn't push off with my right leg. All of a sudden--I didn't see it--it was probably the only pothole they missed, but I stepped in it. Obviously I wasn't expecting to. But instead of derailing me further, it jerked my leg out. I could start running again!
oooooI had my stride back!

Staying the Course: A Runner's Toughest Race is published by the University of Minnesota Press.

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