"MARATHON WOMAN" by Kathrine Switzer, Da Capo Press, 402 pages, $17
Kathrine Switzer never set out to be a pioneer. She never dreamed of being a trail-blazer or an activist. Instead, she just set out to find a way to do something she loved — run.
It would seem unfortunate, then, that she was born in 1946 — a time when athletic opportunities for women weren't just scarce, they were unseemly. It was, however, a blessing for women born after her that she was around to create the opportunities she did and in the way she did.
Her account of growing up in this era is both entertaining and enlightening. She writes about it in a way that isn't bitter or resentful. In fact, her approach of forgiveness and empathy enriches her own life as much as it brings peace to those with whom she deals. She understands the mindset of that era and instead of making excuses or getting angry about it, she quietly and methodically (like a good marathon runner) attempts to just convince doubters that women are not only capable of incredible athletic feats but that they will relish opportunities if they have them.
Switzer became the first woman to officially race in the Boston Marathon in 1967. She did so only because her coach, an assistant at Syracuse University, insisted on registering them as a team and she used her initials, which is something she'd done regularly as a writer for student newspapers. The registration forms didn't even have a question about gender and the rule book didn't strictly prohibit women, but the race officials certainly did. In fact, two different officials tried to grab her during the race and take the number they'd issued her. The photographs included are amazing, as is her story of how running transformed her life and how she used it to create more opportunities for other women.
One of the most moving passages was when Switzer describes running past Wellesley College during the 1971 Boston Marathon. At the time, women were still not allowed to run the race officially, so three women did so without registering as official participants.
"The women at Wellesley at last were all I had hoped for, and more," she writes. "In 1967 they were nonexistent, and in 1970, also a cold and miserable rain, they were scarce. Today they were out in force and went absolutely crazy when they saw me. For the first time, I felt the noise of their screaming bounce off my chest; the only time I'd felt that before was when I was a kid at a parade and felt the concussion of the big drums in the marching band. I was always proud of being a woman and I was proud enough of my running to need little outside affirmation, but the cheers of the Wellesley women made up for a lot of dark training nights. I felt my eyes sting with tears; I knew the cheers would sustain me for months."
The book ends with the 1984 Olympic Women's Marathon and is told through her job as a television commentator. It is another wonderful milestone that we too often take for granted in the multitude of opportunities available to women today.
The only disappointing aspect of the book is its abrupt end. I wanted to know how she incorporated running into her life as she aged, but maybe that's another story altogether. The accounts of several different witnesses to her 1967 race were very interesting, especially the poem by one of her teammates.
This is a book runners will love, even those who've never attempted a marathon. She describes very beautifully the spiritual aspects of running and the camaraderie that hooks so many on the sport. Even those who hate running will enjoy reading about how participating in athletics will offer a person benefits beyond measure, even decades after the competition has ended.
e-mail: adonaldson@desnews.com