Marathon running has worn many faces in the last 25 years.
Today it is flourishing, in most respects. Participation is up,
elite times are down, and almost every major city in the
world offers its own marathon. But some of us have concerns for the sport as well.
Until the 1980s, marathons were small-time affairs put on
for serious, dedicated athletes. Now there are trail races,
travel tours, giant extravaganzas, all types of options. To
fathom where marathon running is headed, let's look back.
Amateurism was the rule in the early '80s. Race directors
clung to no-prize traditions, or paid under the table to draw
well-known athletes to their events. Some of America's best
runners, tired of this "shamateurism,"united to fight for open
prize money.
Races such as the Jordache Jeans Marathon offered
purses and got the ball rolling. At the Cascade Run-Off 15K
in Portland, Ore., many of today's running legends took a
stand for payment based on performance. Change was
underway.
Many races -- the Boston Marathon in particular -- resisted
paying winners until it jeopardized their status as top events.
Boston directors relied on shoe sponsors and outside
federations to bring in and pay top runners. They thought
their race's prestige alone would be enough to continue
enticing the world's elite.
Competition from prize-paying races forced Boston to
change its thinking. Now the race again draws top runners
with healthy purses. It's professionally organized at all levels
now, to the benefit of all.
American marathon runners were still near the top of the
heap in the early '80s, but not for long. Major cities around
the world, especially in Europe, were learning big
marathons drew big money. People loved seeing great
competition; to attract it, sponsors in these cities offered
prizes that made them competitive with cities in the U.S.
The creation of more, spread-out competition put American
marathoners at a disadvantage. As prize money grew and
travel expenses became available, athletes from poorer
nations found means and incentives to come to Europe,
Asia and America to compete.
African runners could train hard, come here, win a few
thousand dollars and have enough money to get by at home
for years. U.S. runners, by comparison, could barely make
rent or car payments. More-glamorous, high-paying sports
drew top U.S. athletes. Why run full-time with chances of
winning, and making a living at it, so slim?
In the '80s, top Americans were still racing mostly against
other top Americans. By the '90s U.S. dominance was long
gone.
As American stars became running legends at expos and
clinics, races were faced with a flood of unrecognizable
talent. No African has captured the imagination and praise
of the U.S. public and media. Haile Gebrselassie isn't a
household name here. The Ethiopian great's film
"Endurance" made it to art-house theatres and HBO, but he
races mostly in Europe, making it hard to develop a U.S.
following.
A few women, such as Deena (Drossin) Kastor and Uta
Pippig, have the personalities to become stars, but don't
have public-relations departments behind them like other
pro athletes. Lack of star power has contributed to the lack
of TV coverage for our sport.
Still, many races have been willing to invest in rewarding
excellence. January's inaugural P.F. Chang's Rock and Roll
Marathon in Arizona paid men's and women's winners
$20,000 each. Salt Lake City is offering $100,000 in prize
money for its marathon this April, and India's new Mumbai
Marathon is offering $200,000 -- the largest prize-money
pot in Asia.
Today, lack of depth is evident at most marathons. Crowds
go crazy when the first runners appear, then sit quietly for
what seems like an eternity until others start streaming in.
Statistics show average times have slowed considerably in
the last 10 years. Fewer runners want to put effort into
excelling, and more are encouraged to simply finish.
Marathon organizers have had to divide their focus.
Runners and sponsors want to be part of an event that has
quality talent. They also want to be part of a spectacle. It's
easier to justify spending resources on events that attract
big crowds.
Organizers entice elite runners by catering to them on
hospitality levels, and appeal to the masses by adding
amenities before, during and after races. Among the latter
are weekend expos and pasta dinners, marathon relays,
half-marathons, 5Ks, fun runs and walks. A few have added
post-race concerts to encourage runners to stay in town.
The Boston Marathon has helped other races by easing its
qualifying standards. Although many enter marathons billed
as "good Boston qualifiers" eager to do just that, the quality
gap remains.
Races have become more oriented toward mid- and
back-packers. This is especially clear at huge events such
as the Honolulu Marathon, which splits its appeal to a few
elites and tens of thousands tour-group joggers/walkers.
The appeal to the masses is here to stay. Cities can't afford
not to. But what are the limitations? Who wants to fight
crowds to pick up their number, eat pasta and grab cups at
water stations? Are you "running" a race when you're
actually shuffling through human traffic the first few miles?
How satisfying is it for organizers to cater to runners whose
method of training is no training at all?
It boils down to the quality of the experience on all levels.
Can organizers satisfy the masses and urge their pursuit of
a regular exercise program, while at the same time
encouraging others to seek their ultimate fitness levels?
Let's hope the pendulum doesn't sway too far seeking
quantity over quality. Caving in to mediocrity creates
boredom and lack of enthusiasm. Excellence is worth
striving for at all levels.
Writer Doug Kurtis's efforts at excellence have netted world
records for the most sub-2:20 marathons (76) and
marathon wins (40). He may be contacted at
dkurtis@earthlink.com. MR