In the Footsteps of Legends

My dad’s celebration of life in early 2014, much like his life itself, buzzed with energy. Friends gathered at the The Mountaineers’ Tacoma, Washington clubhouse for memories and loud music. On the table near the entrance: an ice axe, a Seahawks flag, a bike helmet, a marathon trophy.

When it was my turn to speak, I shared that in the many road races I did with my dad as a kid, one thing stood out: after finishing, he always ran back to see me across the line. I never went into a chute alone.

At 19, I had a son of my own. That was about the time Dad immersed himself in mountaineering. We drifted. Years later, as he began living with cancer, the two of us bonded again around running. I signed up for my first marathon so we’d have something in common. We became friends.

I was 33 years old.

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In The Running Ground, the author runs not to bond with, but to understand his father. I finished it in the waiting room of a Missoula surgery center while my stepdad—sedated, prone, vulnerable—endured a two-hour laminectomy on his L1-L3 so he could maybe walk without pain again.

I was vulnerable that day, too. Head just above water. Marathons will do that. We had departed Eugene early the morning after the race and driven twelve hours to be in Montana for the surgery.

My son spent a few days with us in Oregon for his second 26.2, and the joy of sharing that experience with him kept me afloat in the waiting room while I read Nick Thompson’s book, fretted about my stepdad, and remembered my old man, who always loved running in Tracktown.

Our boy is 33 years old.

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The Eugene Marathon tagline is, “In the Footsteps of Legends,” referring to the storied history of the city and University of Oregon track and field. Bowerman pressed his first waffle trainer there. Prefontaine, Rogers, Hasay, Hocker. The names rise from Hayward Field and fall like rain. Running saturates everything.

I came to town with a realistic idea of the shape I was in. It wouldn’t be a PR day, and that was okay. April 26 was about being with our kiddo and spending a few hours on the roads together.

Running is unique in the world of sport, in that everyday athletes like me and my son can be on the same course, on the same day, as the world’s best. Marathons like Eugene and Boston extend the shared experience to one of history. We run with ghosts, figures bigger than life.

But maybe on April 26, as my kid ran behind me on Pre’s Trail, he understood what I do; that there are many kinds of legends and few are household names. Some of the footsteps we follow are just regular guys. Dads doing their best, who turn around and run us in.

These days, most races don’t want you to go back onto the course after finishing. But on that final mile into the stadium in Eugene, John Hahn was with me and I was with Josh. I hope they felt it, too.

Run lightly,
-mike

Eugene Marathon
April 26, 2026
3:09:00 | 7:10 pace
Strava