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Dave Griffin On Running
The Carroll County Times – Sunday, December 20, 2009
To Flying Feet Members - This column features our own Bobby Ward!
Bobby Ward didn’t want his parents to see his final college race in 2002. He didn’t think they would want to watch it, so he asked them not to come. Looking back now, he regrets that more than anything.
A few months earlier, during his senior indoor track season for Widener University, he had done some of the best racing of his life. Having already qualified to compete in the 800 meter race at the outdoor conference meet, he was hoping to help his team win its fourth straight conference championship.
He spent the week between seasons home on spring break. While there, he used the time to get some distance in as he prepared to start his final track season, but his last run before heading back to Widener would change the course of things.
A truck failed to stop at a red light. Bob doesn’t know much more than that, except that he was in its path. The police report said it was going fifty miles an hour when it hit him. I spoke to a friend of Bob’s who was on the scene, a paramedic, who didn’t recognize him at first. He wondered if Bob would survive as he watched the MedVac helicopter carry him away.
His injuries were extensive, but he was in the best shape of his life, and that helped him recover at a rate that surprised everyone. Still, a broken femur bone made the doctors caution Bob against considering anything more than walking as a goal.
He was sent home with a wheelchair and a set of crutches, and two days later, with the help of his father, he went outside to hobble along the sidewalk on the crutches. That’s the moment he decided he wanted to join his team and run at the conference meet.
Even after he returned to college, the most optimistic doctor told him it would take six months before he could run again. But each day, Bob was dedicated to his therapy, knowing he couldn’t run until his doctors gave their approval. Finally, just before the championship meet, they did.
You can imagine the scene as Bob walked towards the starting line. Everyone in the stadium seemed to know his story and they lined the track waiting to encourage him.
The 800 meters is just a two lap race, and perhaps the most amazing fact is that Bob wasn’t lapped. He doesn’t even remember the pain, the adrenalin and the crowd shielding him as he ran the slowest, but most heroic race of his life.
We tend to celebrate the victorious, people who give us stunning performance. It’s fitting that we do this. After all, champions help us envision our own potential. On the other hand, gold medals tarnish, as do the reputations of far too many of the people who win them. Maybe that’s why I’ve come to value the inspiring over the accomplished, humility more than triumph.
I can’t tell you how many people Bob inspired that day, other than to say it was many. And while few even remember the names of the champions, everyone who was there remembers Bob’s race. He only wishes his parents were among them. In some larger sense, though, I’m certain they were.
Dave Griffin
Dave Griffin is the Times’ running writer. His column appears every other Sunday. Reach him at dpgflyingfeet@aol.com or join the Facebook group, Dave Griffin On Running.