Mark Sutcliffe’s marathon experience
Qualifying to run in the Boston becomes an event in itself
Long Road to Boston: The Pursuit of the World’s Most Coveted Marathon Mark Sutcliffe Great River Media
Mark Sutcliffe finished the Boston Marathon last year at age 46 after qualifying for the historical event with a mere 22 seconds to spare.
Runners don’t get to run Boston by getting an application in ahead of 30,000 others or by the luck of a lottery draw. They have to qualify; and while qualification times are slightly more generous for those in older age groups, the dream of running Boston eludes more than it includes.
In his latest book, Long Road to Boston: The Pursuit of the World’s Most Coveted Marathon, Sutcliffe chronicles the years of disappointment he had to endure before being able to flash that ear-to-ear finisher’s smile and coveted blueand-yellow medal at a camera just beyond the finishing line.
Correction: Nobody HAS to endure the hours of training it takes to run 42.195 kilometres fast enough to qualify for Boston. But you do have to want it. “It matters to me, on a level that I’m almost embarrassed to acknowledge,” writes Sutcliffe of the lure of Boston. “Beyond the health and happiness of my children, nothing has inspired more hope, stimulated more hard work, caused more doubt and disappointment, evoked more fear, courage, anxiety, determination, fancy, desperation, anticipation.”
That emotional passage comes as he describes running onto Boylston Street — “the most cherished half mile in marathon running” — heading toward a 3:42:37 finish.
As Sutcliffe and others have noted, the Boston Marathon for many is a victory lap — an experience to be savoured after the elation of actually qualifying, which he did a year earlier at the Pocono Marathon.
“I made it by twenty-two seconds,” he writes of his squeaker of a qualifying time. “The length of a coughing fit or a voicemail message. The time it takes to warm up a coffee in the microwave. Or pay a bill online. Or tell a joke. An elevator ride to the 10th floor. Less than the length of a typical television commercial. Less than one second per mile.”
Some runners squeeze in or are squeezed out by smaller margins: One guy Sutcliffe found online missed qualifying by one second, a year after he also missed qualifying by two seconds.
“I suppose he could reassure himself that he was getting closer,” Sutcliffe notes.
Sutcliffe devotes the first part of his 300 pages to Boston Marathon history, including its beginnings in 1897 and the bizarre battle to exclude women, which organizers formally lost in 1972. He’s mined the Boston online media libraries for anecdotes, some already famous, some obscure.
But as recent as much of the history is, most of it occurred during eras when runners had little, if any, knowledge about hydration, health or training and before today’s colour-co-ordinated technical apparel and running-shoe market.
“In 1925,” writes Sutcliffe, “Chuck Mellor of Chicago beat Clarence DeMar, running with a wad of tobacco in his cheek and having placed a copy of the Boston Globe under his shirt to protect him from the wind.”
Sutcliffe’s personal story, occasionally witty and often poignant, weaves the marathon experience into a kind of philosophical life lesson.
“I felt there was a good story to tell,” he said in a recent interview with the Citizen. “Running has become an easy metaphor for me for a lot of things — having a goal and figuring out you’re going to get there.
“There is lots of information about how you can make things happen quickly in life — be an overnight success through reality TV show or lotteries — but the truth is that most of life is about incremental progress toward a long-term goal.”
He acknowledges that numerous books have been written about the Boston Marathon, but he figures there’s room in the market, as they’ve mostly been about elites or training, Sutcliffe said.
He’s aiming Long Road to Boston at “ordinary runners.”
“Look at Ottawa Race Weekend, where you have 50,000 participants,” he said, “49,500 of them are ordinary runners.”
Given the international appeal of the Boston Marathon, Sutcliffe expects any success the book enjoys will be more electronic (ebook, $9.95) than on paper (initial print run 2,500, at $29.95 each).
Sutcliffe opens the pages with paid promotional blurbs for his favourite running shoes and socks, pedorthic clinic and financial adviser. He also publishes the names of those who contributed toward the $5,000 he raised crowdsourcing.
The self-publishing book business — he’s publishing through his company Great River Media — can be a long road to a financial red hole.
Sutcliffe says the advertising and crowdsource money gave him the financial cushion he needed for production and marketing.
“It can take a long time to sell enough books to cover the printing bill and other costs,” he said. “So having some money up front was great. You’re also getting a little buy-in from people who feel they are a part of the your project.”
The paid sponsorships are at once surprising and innovative.
“It’s unusual in book publishing, but not unusual in anything else,” he said. “Elite athletes wear logos and have sponsorships with shoe and clothing companies.”
Boston might have been the summit, but it wasn’t the end of Sutcliffe’s marathon road. After an 18-month hiatus, he’ll be back on the road with 45,000 fellow competitors next Sunday in Chicago. And another Boston Marathon? “Yes, I’d do another,” he said, “but I’m not sure I could qualify again.”