A few months ago, David Deubelbeiss of Canada set a 24-hour treadmill world record by running 130.82 miles. The entire effort was filmed on video and each mile split was recorded so it would be easier to apply for inclusion in the Guinness Book of World Records.

Documentation is required to apply for records. Recently, Guinness sent me several pages of forms so my record of 40 marathon wins might be included in their publications. Fortunately, I've kept news clippings of each victory. Reading over them brought up memories, some of which I would like to share.

The 1979 West Bloomfield Marathon was my first win. It was actually run entirely on Belle Isle. Jon Cross, now race director of the Honolulu Marathon, made a bold early move and had a substantial lead. I told my then-wife, "Don't worry; I'll catch him on the next lap." Sure enough, Jon ran out of gas and I reversed to lead.

Two years later, I won the first of three Mardi Gras Marathons in New Orleans. Twenty-two miles of this course ran across the Lake Pontchartrain Causeway Bridge. If the wind was blowing behind you, it was a very-fast course. In 1981, the wind was in our face.

Eight of us ran single-file, taking turns leading and breaking wind. All except one runner, who kept clipping the heels of big Barney Klecker. After several clips, Barney turned to this fellow and said, "Do that one more time, mister, and I'm throwing you over the bridge."

My 2:33 at that Mardi Gras was one of my slowest wins. I came back the next year and set my personal best of 2:13:34, running all alone.

Seattle was another successful venue. I won its marathon five-straight years from 1985 to 1989. The first two were the most memorable, because both times leaders pulled so far ahead I lost sight of them and resigned myself to second. And both times, I took the lead at the same spot along Puget Sound.

Barcelona was a special win because Dr. Andy Rodriquez, former medical director of the New York City Marathon, invited me as his guest. We arrived a few days early and I practiced on the last five miles of the course. The going there was tricky and being familiar with it paid off. I made a move on two European runners on a downhill at mile 25. They tried to recover too late. I won by six seconds.

In the 1990 Yonkers Marathon, I was determined to collect on a bonus for breaking the course record. I struggled early, lost sight of the lead vehicle, and, following another guy, went off course. Luckily, I was staying with friends who had given me a course tour the day before, realized we were off track and turned around in time to keep second place.

At mile 22, people yelled I could catch the leader because he was walking. Sure enough, he'd cramped up and I went on to win, minus the bonus though.

At age 42, I didn't think I had a chance to win Grandma's Marathon in Duluth a second time. One of New Zealand's star runners, Sean Wade, went off at a blistering pace to try to qualify for his Olympic team. At mile 17, I broke from a large pack because I thought Sean's inexperience would cost him. My intuition was right and I passed him at the 24-mile mark. I was shocked when the dejected Wade walked straight to his hotel from where I passed him.

I won the Detroit Free Press Marathon six-straight times from 1987 to 1992. One year, Mazda brought in Japanese runner Wataru Adachi, with whom I dueled through 17 miles. My mother was waiting at mile 18 with a container of de-fizzed pop. Wanting to show mom I was in command, I put a move on Adachi. I thought he would close the gap, but he let me go and the race was over.

Last year, at age 50, I decided to go after one more win to make it an even 40. Although the Whidbey Island Marathon was small, the beauty and glamour of this island outside Seattle was worth the trip and an addition for the Guinness's record book.

Columnist Doug Kurtis holds two world records, with 76 sub-2:20 marathons in addition to 40 wins. He may be contacted at dkurtis@peoplepc.com MR