“…When you reach the
20-mile mark of a marathon feeling utterly spent, but finish somehow, you
suspect you can conquer other seemingly unbearable events in life. After you
discover you can set tough goals and prevail, you realize you can accomplish
almost anything you put your mind to. You don’t have to look to the marvels of
the Benoits, the Coes, the world-class to find your heroes; look inward to your
own struggle and discover yourself. What you find may startle you, it may
expose you to a whole gamut of emotions, but it will never bore you. And, as
Theodore Roosevelt promised, your place shall never be with those cold and
timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat.”
– Ron Daws, Running
Your Best, Epilogue
But ask his friends – those who knew him best – and they’ll
tell you Daws couldn’t help but make the U.S. team in 1968. They’ll tell you
the truth – biomechanically, Daws was a running nightmare. But no one could
beat him on heart; or aspiration; or determination. According to them, he was
an overachiever, focused, iconoclastic, perpetually young, and in possession of
a childlike curiosity for all of life. That curiosity would serve him well.
Although perhaps no one was more surprised than Daws to be
the third man in at the end of the 1968 U.S. Olympic Marathon Trials in
Alamosa, Colorado. But before then…
Daws’ first run didn’t go well. He was 12 years old, living
in Minneapolis with his grandparents. Daydreaming one day as he walked through
the woods, he imagined himself as a forest runner, running the woods all day to
travel or just survive.
“Swept up in the
imagery, I could no longer resist the urge to run. I raced away at full tilt.
It was a dream come true…Within a quarter-mile, my lungs were afire with the
need for oxygen, and my dream of toilless strides gave way to a nightmare of
exhaustion. With the waning of my strength came a sick feeling of frustration
and disgust, and I stopped abruptly, bursting into tears. It came, therefore,
as an unsuspected and devastating shock to learn that it would be many years,
if ever, before I would achieve those mile-eating runs without exceeding the
tolerable limits of pain.”
– Ron Daws, The
Self-Made Olympian
It would be three years before he would join his high
school’s track team as a freshman. He didn’t run cross country that year
because he had heard it was ‘a nine-mile contest.’ In reality, it was less than
two miles. But it wouldn’t be until his junior year that he first attempted it.
When his high school career was over he had run 9:29 for 1.8
miles in cross country – good enough for second runner on his team, seventh in
the city meet and 14th in the state meet. In track his fastest mile
ended up being 4:40.9. At the end of his senior cross country season Daws said
he earned his coach’s backhanded compliment as a ‘persistent son-of-a-bitch.’
The University of Minnesota would be Daws’ next stop. In
track, he struggled to establish himself. Phil Jenni, who would become one of
Daws’ training partners and friends years after Daws left the U, remembers well
Daws’ stories of having to run on either the inside or the outside of the track
during the U’s track practices. “The coach at the time didn’t want him to hurt
the star, Buddy Edelen, with his running style,” said Jenni. Edelen later became
the world record holder for the marathon.
In Daws’ own words: “The
five years of running at the University of Minnesota paralleled, in many
respects, my high school years. When I graduated my mile and two-mile bests
were 4:30 and 9:43. My best three-mile, at 15:22, defied the dignity of the
word ‘race.’”
– Ron Daws, The
Self-Made Olympian
In cross country his penchant for
mileage paid off.
“ …I fared
considerably better at cross-country which featured a couple of extra miles in
which to haul down the fast guys. In my senior year, I was fifth fastest ever
over the school’s 3.9-mile course, number one on the team, and led Minnesota in
the Big Ten Championship, running four miles in 20:33 to finish 14th.
This earned me the U of M award for Outstanding Cross-Country Runner of 1961.”
–Ron Daws, The
Self-Made Olympian
Daws’ running style was legendary. In 1996, Daws’ friend and
running partner Pat Lanin wrote an abbreviated story about Daws’ for the
then-combined MDRA/USATF-MN publication. “…Ron’s style was unique; his torso
lurched with each stride, and his arms flailed as if he was beating a drum,”
wrote Lanin. “… he was tested at the human performance lab at Ball State
University and was declared to be the least biomechnically efficient runner
they had ever tested.” But he was able to make the most of his other unique
qualities.
“He had a tremendous talent for putting in the miles,”
recalled Rick Kleyman, Daws’ college teammate and the Armstrong High School
coaching legend. “It showed that when he did train he was a super-talented
runner. He was destined to be good at marathoning; logging those miles; pushing it. But all the while doing things
right.”
“He was fond of saying he wasn’t a talented runner. But he
was. An easy day for him was an easy 17-miler,” said Jenni. “He could grind out
130 miles per week. It was easy for him. He didn’t understand that it was a
talent to be able to do that.”
Daws’ competitive side was also legendary. It was part of
what drove him to train harder, run faster and achieve more.
“While at the U, I beat Daws in the first conference race of
the season when I was a sophomore and he was a senior. We didn’t used to train
out-of-season then so we came into the season in not too great of shape,” said
Kleyman. “Because of my natural speed, I could beat some of the older runners
in the early season. Daws came up to me after that race and said, ‘Never
again.’ And I never, ever beat him again.”
All of this: Daws’ competitive side, his high mileage,
dedication and determination – came together in his quest for a spot on the
Olympic team.
However, the 1964 Olympic Marathon Trials were not kind to
Daws. Then again, they were much worse for a number of other runners. Frank
Murphy wrote of the Yonkers, New York Marathon Trials (which also served that
year as the National AAU Championship) in his 1992 book, A Cold Clear Day: the Athletic Biography of Buddy Edelen.
“…The forecast was temperatures in the 90s on race day and
the start was at noon. At noon on hot roads, out and back along the river, with
more than an occasional hill, people could die. That did not seem an
exaggeration and sensible people, people who ran and who understood, urged AAU
officials to change the starting time. But the officials refused…,” wrote Murphy.
“At noon on May 24, 1964, in Yonkers, New York, the humidity was high and the
temperature was 91 degrees. The surface temperature was 140 degrees…”
There were 163 men entered in that year’s Marathon Trials.
Only 128 were on the starting line when the gun went off. Of those 128, only 37
of them would finish within the four-hour limit established by race officials.
Ron Daws was among the ‘lucky’ 37. He finished in 3:25, good
for 15th place. This marathon was where he learned about training
for inclement conditions. His ‘heat training’ over the years after this
marathon would become legendary to Minnesota runners.
In 1966 he was ninth at Boston, the premier marathon of that
era. On June 11, 1967 he became the USA Marathon Champion (2:40:07) by winning
in Holyoke, Massachusetts, thereby also securing a place as a member of the
U.S. marathon team for the upcoming Pan-American Games. Only 38 of the original
125 starters in that Holyoke race finished.
Winnipeg, Manitoba, Canada was the setting for the 1967 Pan-Am
Games. Daws sustained an injury in the days leading up to the race and was only
able to complete 5K of that marathon. He was disappointed, to say the least.
But he was not willing to give up.
He was back at Boston in 1968. This time he finished fifth.
The Olympic Trials were next on his list. But first he had to earn his place at
the Trials.
Qualifying for the Olympic Trials was done a bit differently
in 1968. Because the Olympics were going to be held at high altitude, in Mexico
City, the USOC wanted to give the Trials qualifiers sufficient opportunity to
live, train and race at altitude before the Trials. And, ultimately for a lucky
three, before the Olympics. Therefore, they held six regional qualifying races
throughout the country.
“Twenty runners,
consisting of the six winners and the next 14 best times, would qualify for
transportation to, and living expenses for a month at Alamosa, Colorado. There,
with the altitude a little higher than Mexico City’s, three athletes who could
perform in rarified air would be selected.”
–Ron Daws, The
Self-Made Olympian
The regional qualifying race for this area was run in the
Twin Cities. Daws ultimately finished a disappointing fourth in 2:24:12, more
than four minutes off his projected time. After the race he was 18th
on the list of 20 qualifiers. The kicker was – there was one qualifying race
yet to be run. The winner of that race would automatically push Daws to the 19th
position and if two runners ran faster than his time, he would be out.
He ultimately ended up in that 19th spot, and was off to
Alamosa for the Trials.
On August 18, 1968, 130 men were at the starting line, all
of them with Olympic dreams. In the end, 67 of them did not even finish the
race. The course was five times around a 5.2 mile loop. The extra 385 yards
were a short run off the course at the end. Although the odds may have been
stacked against him for many reasons, Daws, through his meticulous, even
pacing, patience and perseverance, ended up third. He was headed to Mexico City
and the 1968 Olympic Games.
He finished 22nd in Mexico City and was living a
dream he had barely dared to dream.
Daws was back for the 1972 Trials, finishing 30th.
But his running career was far from over.
In all, he finished in the top 10 at Boston four times,
including a fourth place in 1969, the year after the Olympics, and a 10th
place in 1973. Before he was done he would also have secured the American
records for 15 miles and 25K. Not bad for a kid whose first race was a 5:40
mile.
All of the impressive race statistics, improvements in
training and positive race outcomes Daws accumulated over the years were
testament to his hard work, endurance, ambition and his heart. For Daws loved
to run. But he also loved to learn more about running. And he loved to share
this knowledge with others.
It may have been because he didn’t have good coaching
relationships in high school or college or perhaps in spite of them that Daws
began, sometime in his college days, to follow the teachings of a man named
Arthur Lydiard. Lydiard’s training methods were working wonders in New Zealand,
but not given much respect elsewhere at the time. His philosophies would
ultimately be a guidebook for Daws’ training. And maybe because Daws had missed
having someone to help him in his formative years, he was even more willing to
share his new-found and hard-won knowledge with others. He wasn’t going to hold
back just because he had done without.
One of his best students ended up beating his times at just
about every distance. For Steve Hoag Daws was a running partner, coach, shoe
doctor, and mentor. Steve Hoag had not yet come close to his potential when he
met Ron Daws.
“The turn which will
leave only the last two blocks of the final lap comes into focus, and all that
remains after that is the odd 385 yards to the finish. I am haunted by the
thought that I am not actually third. Maybe it is all a miscalculation. I
suddenly do not remember passing enough runners. As I turn left, leaving the
loop for the 385 yards, Billy Mills comes into view, already in bermuda shorts
and shirt, on the corner.
‘Am I really third?’ I
bellow.
‘Yeah, and you can walk in from here.’
For the first time I
believe my place is secure. Obviously, no one is in sight behind, and all that
remains is the formality of finishing. I toss my painter’s cap to the crowd as
I come in.
It is the end of a
long-shot of formidable proportions. It marks a 15-year struggle from a 5:40
miler to Olympian at age 31. I ease to a jog and wave. Contagious smiles from
spectators spread to my once grimacing lips and I think, ‘My God, keep smiling
or you’ll cry.’”
–Ron Daws, The
Self-Made OlympianContinue to next article...
Part III: The Road to Boston
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