by RBR Admin
RunBlogRun into: Bob Hodge ran the 1980 NIKE OTC Marathon, in an epic battle with Dick Quax.
The NIKE OTC Marathon was a glorious marathon which was short-lived, from 1973 to 1984. In 1988, NIKE OTC Marathon became a 25k for one year, when NIKE ended it sponsorship.
Bob Hodge wrote this piece about the 1980 version of the NIKE OTC Marathon, where he battled Dick Quax.
The NIKE OTC Marathon was held in the first week of September each year. It was from an epic time in our sport.
Enjoy this piece from Bob Hodge. You can find Bob’s writing at http://bobhodge.us/project-eagle/
Best Efforts
The NIKE OTC Marathon 1980
It’s early in the race which started early and I feel as if I’m on a training run back home with a group of friends. This race has none of the big city vibe of a Boston or NYC just a small press crew somewhere out front and a motorcyclist leading the runners.
After a few miles through the neighborhoods outside Hayward Field– where the race would finish on the track –we crossed the Willamette River over a pedestrian bridge with a great view. I was content to race the race and I didn’t think much about split times just ran by feel.
(Reportedly 31:57 10K —floating for now)
My only other marathon racing attempts had been at Boston where there are no meaningful splits only traditional checkpoints at odd distances where there was never anyone giving splits no way no how.
They did provide a report in the next days Globe showing who were the top ten runners at each checkpoint and the leaders times relative to the record times.
I often wonder why no one went out even on their own volition and marked off the miles—probably would have been arrested by the BAA police for vandalism.
So, you learned a valuable lesson in pacing letting your body and mind in coordination—just as it had in all those miles of trials—dictate while reacting to what was happening with the other contenders your brothers in sweat. Today every athlete wears a fancy watch and begins to cry if they are off a few seconds on some mile split.
Kevin McCarey, another of the Nike gang, appeared to be setting the pace—perhaps as requested.
So, my mind wandered or a part of my mind while the pace seemed satisfying enough and the lead group down to a dozen or so at the half.
Going into the race I had a great summer after getting over the fact that my dream of running in the Olympic Trials Marathon in May and all of the effort I had put in through the winter of 79/80 in preparation had gone up in smoke with the boycott and my subsequent decision to run Boston only and skip the trials which were a sham that I did not want to be complicit with.
http://bobhodge.us/hodgie-san-
After flaming out and dropping out at Boston I mopped about and slowly regrouped.
Between May 1st and August 31st, I had run 11 races winning 8 of them including a 4th at Falmouth, where I battled Rod Dixon and a National 20k Road Championship win. I was unusually tired after the 20K run on a very hot day over a hilly course and I was worried I might not recover for this marathon.
I was also running in a pair of Reebok Racers that my new sponsor had provided nearly a year before and they were falling apart at the seams. Just before flying to Oregon, I received two pairs of shoes sent over from the UK and I was told they were made by company founder Joe Foster.
As I ripped open the boxes on returning to my cabin in the woods of Norwell MA on the North River with my GBTC Teammate Dickie looking on after our run— “Hodgie, they look like clown shoes.”
Not wanting to wear barely tested shoes in my marathon and also not wanting to look like a clown—I went with the rather worn and torn pair.
Nike Eagle shoes were all the rage at this affair, a “gathering of eagles” including a few shoe malfunctions. Might have been operator error.
Dick Quax -Benji—Mike Buhmann —John Graham—Jeff Foster—Jon Anderson —Dave Smith, etc. a great group of competitors but no matter —it was me against the world or in this case also against Nike whose athletes dominated this competition. I liked to think of it this way after all —my fellow competitors and I worked together just until it was time to crush one another-last man standing.
The pack whittled itself down and I suppose I contributed by upping the ante. 30k was passed in 1:32 but I didn’t take much notice—I had DIck Quax on my shoulder and the lead motorcycle just ahead.
In the late stages we passed some runners still on their way out as we were returning nearing the finishing stretch.
As I remember it Dick surged a few times and opened a small lead but I pulled him back each time. One of those times race co-director Peter Thompson was saying something to Dick which I assumed to be urging him on. (Peter reported that he was keeping Dick on course as he had made a wrong turn)
Closing in on the finish Dick made the decisive break and as we entered Hayward and the clock came into view I composed a haiku:
Lifted my legs high,
Run two ten and join the men,
Only life and fate
I could see 2:10….ticking away. My official time 2:10:59.
My friend Jack Welch, then editor of road racing column for Track & Field News described Dick’s race as “winging a two ten marathon.” Well- my entire life I had winged and was just twelve seconds back. Cinderella boy, tears in my eyes.
I had a feeling of resignation—after all these New Zealanders, stars of the European track circuit wouldn’t even likely be here if the Olympics hadn’t been boycotted they would be in Europe racing on the track.
I shook hands with Dick just as he was shooing away reporters trying to get pictures of his bloodied feet. After that I walked to my hotel and hopped in the tub filled with cold water ice and beer.
I skipped the awards ceremony, honestly never gave it a thought. Petulant child, me against the world like my comic book hero Alf Tupper-“Tough of the Track.”
I was feeling this event and the people behind it were cultish with all their “gathering of eagles” and a new racing flat just happened to be called the Eagle.
Part of me was disappointed that I was never recruited. Another part was happy to not be apart of any group that wanted me.
A lone wolf.
As I lay in bed in my hotel room after my bath watching US Open Tennis—sipping beer and becoming increasingly famished— my friend Tom Fleming who had dropped out of the race at some stage knocked on my door.
“ Hodgie, what are you doing lying in bed man, people are looking for you. “TF have a beer, let’s order some food.”
“Man, we got a party—get dressed.” We went to someone house sat naked in hot tub with college co Ed’s—signed Mary Decker’s cast— her latest injury.
TF, God bless him and I ran many miles together in Florida in January/February 1980. Tom was all in with professional running obsessed and convinced me to go to Boulder CO to meet with Jim Lillestrom a man with a plan.
And so we did but also made the rounds—Boulder and its altitude some kind of Mecca. We went to the Coors brewery.
Boston was my Mecca not that I doubted the benefits of altitude. I’m more mothers of invention and mind over matter and oxygen blood values come as they may.
I returned home to my cabin in the woods to no fanfare and a letter from my sponsor Reebok that they were dropping my current contract with conditions.
I got injured before Fukuoka Marathon my award for my second place—almost a career ending injury—would have been if I did the calculation—but I continued to bang my head against the wall until my honey brought me to my senses.
What I call snatching victory from the jaws of defeat.
I recently returned to Eugene for the Olympic Track & Field Trials and became reacquainted with Benji Durden who I had not seen since December 1992 at the Rocket City Marathon in Huntsville AL.
We went for a run and yipped and yapped —Benji remarked that my race in 1980 Nike OTC must have been my best marathon.
My reckoning:
Beppu Japan 1982 1st 2:15 Winning matters.
Nike OTC 1980 2nd 2:10:59
Boston 1979 2nd 2:12 obscurity to near obscure.
Fukuoka 1982 5th 2:11 after leading winning slipped away.
Boston 1986 2:14 6th reclaimed some dignity.
Olympic Trials 1988 2:16 7th The End
More Than a Feeling
Wintertime 1979 and I am feeling free and locked in to my running life—living on the South Shore of Boston in Hanover MA working in the running retail shoe biz at the Runnery with owners and friends Sharpy and Stevie.
The Boston Marathon is looming just weeks away and I am beginning to find my groove—I feel almost too good every run my feet barely touch the ground –I am floating along like my heroes—Ron Hill—Abebe Bikila—Frank Shorter and my teammate with the Greater Boston Track Club, Bill Rodgers.
My goal is to beat my other teammate, Randy Thomas—Ha. We are good friends—me from Lowell MA and Randy from Fitchburg MA. We push each other hard in training and especially in the races leading up to the big one—Boston.
Our other teammates including Dickie Mahoney from Weymouth and Vinnie Fleming from Jamaica Plain Boston make for a very dynamic fun-loving group—but dead serious when the gun goes off.
Another pretty decent runner from Michigan, Greg Meyer, joins our group as well.
In other words—looking back I can see it was a perfect storm of serendipitous happenings orchestrated by our beloved eccentric coach Billy Squires also a college coach and professor at Boston State College.
I had run Boston in 1977 and failed to impress finishing in 46th place in 2:28. My teammate Vinnie finished 5th in 2:18.
My third place finish in 1979 set up the entire sequence of events leading to Nike OTC 1980.
For good or ill and that’s the way it was.
Our politicians phonily espouse…
Let’s Work Together—A dance tune with a message:
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=
Pump up the volume
