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448 pages, Hardcover
First published July 25, 2006
"He delivered a lecture on what running was for him. 'A race,' he said, 'is a work of art that people can look at and be affected by in as many ways as they are capable of understanding.'"
When Bill came down the ramp in Eugene, Barbara shrieked that he looked ten years younger. The next morning Eugene Register-Guard sportswriter Jerry Uhrhammer, who had been following the tour, phoned to ask Bowerman to sum up his experience. Bill told him that the competition was great, but the biggest thing that had happened was his realizing that his idea of exercise was “way, way, way low.� In New Zealand, thousands of people jog, Bill said. “Their women jog, their kids jog, everybody jogs.� Uhrhammer asked, “Do you think we could do that here?� And Bowerman said, “Why don’t we find out?�
So Uhrhammer’s article contained Bill’s invitation to anyone of any age to come to the Hayward Field practice track that Sunday and hear more about it. On February 3, 1963, two dozen citizens showed up. Bill spoke about good shoes and loose clothing, and everyone did a mile of trotting the straightaways and walking the turns. The next week, the total grew to fifty. Bill explained how the talk test keeps exercise fun. He was surprised to see about a quarter of the folks were female. The third week, two hundred loosely bundled souls appeared and did a mile or two. Uhrhammer wrote a follow-up piece, mentioning that Life magazine planned to send a photographer to document this bizarre activity.
“That was the start of the American jogging movement,� Reeve would say, “right there, that morning.� The crowd peaked at somewhere between 2,000 and 5,000 human beings that day. The mass scared Bowerman silly: “I knew someone was going to die right there.� He urged everyone to go home and jog with friends in their own neighborhoods “until we get a better handle on this thing.�
Originally a nation of pioneers accustomed to hard physical labor, America in the mid-twentieth-century had become a society that actively condemned adult fitness. It may be hard for anyone born after 1960 to believe, but runners in those days were regarded as eccentric at best, subversive and dangerous at worst. During the day, cars would routinely swerve to try to drive a runner off the road. And running at night was deemed suspicious enough to warrant being stopped by a police cruiser and held until phone calls ascertained there had been no burglaries in the area.
A great movement had been pent up. Exercise had been calling to us from our genes, from our childhoods, but not from our culture. Now it could. Frank Shorter would help, winning the Olympic marathon in 1972 and showing that Americans could master real distance the same as anyone else. That would begin not a jogging but a running boom and the phenomenon of mass marathons, such as those in New York and Boston, whose starting fields today number in the tens of thousands.
“The cowards never started, and the weak died along the way. That leaves us, ladies and gentlemen. Us.�