Patriots Day 1978, the Boston Marathon, back when the fields were still growing, but small enough where, as our friend Norma Friedman once said, “We knew the top hundred finishers by their first names.”
I was helping call the race on WBZ radio, watching Bill Rodgers try to win his second Boston title, but desperately hanging on as Texan Jeff Wells closed like a freight train.
Jeff had been behind by 59 seconds passing Bill’s running store in Cleveland Circle at the 23-mile mark. But entering Ring Road—the short service road adjacent to Boylston Street beneath the Prudential Tower where the marathon finished between 1965 and 1985—Wells was surging! With 200 meters to go, he was within spitting distance!
At the time, Rodgers was the closest thing distance running had to a rock star, winner of both the New York and Fukuoka Marathons in late ‘77, going for a second Boston, skinny, blond, and faster than seemed fair.
The crowd bunched tighter alongside the narrow road looking for a clear view of the suddenly competitive race. The Boston police motorcycle escort was larger than it probably needed to be. Everyone cheered like mad; the din was enormous. The finish line beckoned. Rodgers glanced back, fear etched across his face.
Falling into the arms of two policemen just beyond the finish line, Bill held on to win by two seconds, 2:10:13 to 2:10:15, in the closest contest to date in Boston’s long history.
The moment lingered. Atlanta’s Gayle Barron won for the women, besting 1976 champion and pre-race favorite, Kim Merritt of Wisconsin, who finished fourth.
After sharing a ride back to Cleveland Circle following the hectic post-race festivities—my apartment was just two blocks from Bill’s store—Bill’s childhood friend and my training mate, Jason Kehoe, turned to me as the crowd went wild when they saw Bill walking toward the store.
“Toni,” he said. “These are the good old days.”
Friends for Life
We knew it as we lived it, the running boom in its full thunder. Running was the gospel in those days. You saw it; you believed it; you signed up. No charity needed, no apps, no $200-$300 entry fee. Just a pair of $19.95 New Balance 320s and the wild idea that ordinary people could cover 26.2 miles if they were stubborn enough.
We had no idea we were experiencing an intersecting timeframe in the country.
While running boomed, the U.S. in 1978 was still grappling with the aftermath of the 1973 Arab oil embargo. Inflation was rising—consumer prices up nearly 7%—and the Federal Reserve kept raising interest rates to little effect.
The vaunted American middle class was beginning to feel the squeeze. Wages weren’t keeping pace, and the post‑war promise of upward mobility was feeling like a ladder whose rungs had spread too far apart.
Yet even as wages stagnated and oil prices lurched beyond anyone’s control, thousands laced up every day and discovered something radical: a domain where effort still translated directly into results. OPEC couldn’t embargo your miles. The Fed couldn’t deflate your PR. The running boom wasn’t just happening during economic uncertainty—it was a grassroots response to it.
Maybe that’s one reason athletic heroes like Bill Rodgers were so revered. With his steady string of victories, Bill felt like a sure thing, offsetting the shadows cast by the economic dislocation.
We were all running in the same pack, breathing the same air, chasing the same postwar promise once embraced by the country at-large, but that was now under duress. But while that promise was fading for many, for runners, if you applied yourself, showed up, and did the work, the distance would open up for you, too. Yes, those were the good old days—perhaps even the final dregs.
Happy 78th birthday, Will-ha. Here’s hoping for more good old days ahead for you (and us).
END
tonireavis.com 
Very nice evocation, Toni, especially the near-religious spirit of running in that time. I’m less convinced by your economic analysis. The growth of running wasn’t only in America, nor only in the marathon. While America was certainly leading by 1978, running was booming and innovating worldwide. At that exact date in New Zealand, for instance, April 1978, I was running in the Lion Beer TV Cross-Country Series in New Zealand, a totally new concept, with sponsorship, paid travel, invited runners (some 21-year-old Aussie called Rob de Castella was the overall winner), deep popular fields, regional qualifiers and national final, made-for-TV scenic lap courses, etc. That kind of innovation was everywhere. Three years ahead (1981) two new nations entered the World Cross-Country, Ethiopia and Kenya.
Season’s greetings! Keep wandering. Roger
Roger,
Merry Christmas to you and Kathrine, and thanks for responding to my post. Always look forward to your perspective.
Movements arise out of the seed bed of their times. America in the mid-1970s was coming off a decade of civil rights and anti-war protest, and the women’s liberation movement. Running offered a more individually oriented focus to a generation grown cynical (or at least less naive) of their ideals as they exited their protected college sanctuaries.
That’s not to say that running didn’t grow in other parts of the world based on for very different reasons. Once begun, I think it resonated along the same lines with everyone.
But here in America, when the movement found heroes like Shorter and Rodgers, a ground swell of interest quickly catalyzed into the running boom.
Having lived through it, it’s hard to downplay the profound impact the oil embargo had on the US economy and the American sense of its power in the world.
Oil prices quadrupled from $3 to $12 per barrel, causing a significant increase in energy costs for consumers and businesses.
Gas stations ran out of fuel, and rationing was implemented, leading to long lines and frustrated motorists. Driving from St. Louis to Denver, we stopped at every highway exit that had an open gas station, knowing we had to top off before sundown when all the stations would close for the night.
The sudden increase in energy costs pushed inflation up, with consumer prices rising by nearly 7% in 1978, and the US economy slipped into recession, with GDP growth slowing down and unemployment rising.
The advent of the Watergate scandal close on its heels, followed by the Nixon resignation, only added to the sense of American unease.
I think people turned inward and for young people, running gave them the perfect vehicle. At the same time, my brother was studying transcendental meditation in Sweden, which tapped into many of the same uncertainties.
People were searching for something of meaning in the world which was offering less from the old-line channels.
At least in America, the uncertainty of the times was one of the motivations for running’s growth.
I look forward to sitting down with you in 2026 and sharing a glass of something to dig into such matters and more.
Toni
To the good old days. We ran, drank beer and had fun.
Still doing a stripped-down version of the same. Hope you are, too. Best ahead,
Toni
Thanks, Toni!
And, Happy 78th Birthday to Bill Rodgers… one of my heroes and fellow competitors in our sport.
I came along at the same time in the 70’s… moving up from high school to intercollegiate running to the early days of the professional runner. At least on the roads.
You describe the time and circumstances back there pretty well.
Times have changes and many things are different now… but the basic tenants of the sport remain the same and the physical and emotional price that Bill and ALL of us have to pay to be good at this sport…. remains the same. I am happy to see that some of the “fun runners” have gotten more serious now and there is a slight refocus on performance and times. And, the elite runners have certainly gotten faster…. but exactly “how & why” is due to many external factors that were not available to us back in our days. That is food and thought for another day/column.
Happy Birthday to Boston Billy and I wish you both a happy holidays and a happy (and especially healthy) new year!
Craig Virgin
Merry Christmas, Craig. You were, indeed, a major player in those “good old days”. Back then around this time of year, I’d be driving up to your parents’ ranch in Illinois for our annual Christmas run in the cold and dark of those Midwestern winters. I still have a tape from one of those excursions. Hope all is well, and you and yours have a wonderful turn of the year. Best ahead,
Toni
70s were great for running. Put on the Hinsdale Marathon near Chicago for years. $2 entry. You didn’t have to worry about permits or insurance.
Simpler times, for sure. We were lucky to have lived through them. Thanks for contributing. Happy holidays.
Toni