Olympic Dream

When I picked up the phone on March 8, 1982 to hear the voice of Alberto Salazar—the talented and charismatic runner who was currently the golden child of the American running world and of Nike—I knew exactly what he needed from me.

    It had recently been in the sports reports that Nike made a deal with Salazar: if he could organize a series of middle-distance races against the world’s premier runners and not only win each of these events, but break American records in the process, the company would make him the first single-season millionaire in track-and-field history. However, Nike had one more stipulation: the current world-record holder in the 10,000 meters, Henry Rono, must run in that event, which was the first on Salazar’s schedule.

            After the first mile of the race, Salazar and I pulled away from the pack. Fortunately for me, his pace lessened, allowing me to finish the second mile in less than nine minutes. Between the second mile and the race’s halfway mark, which we passed at 13:45 (keeping Salazar’s hopes for the American record alive), the pace remained consistent. Salazar’s running style was graceful, his leg kicks low and his stride long, which made it easy for me to draft off of him without worrying about his back kick. Salazar liked to run evenly paced races, scarcely attempting to intimidate or test his competition by mixing up his pace or surging.

With a third of the race remaining, Salazar and I put 100 meters between us and the rest of the field, and it was clear to the crowd that the race would go down to the wire, like a classic heavyweight bout between two grizzled champions slugging it out toe to toe. When Salazar and I came down along the straightaway on our penultimate lap, the bell signaling the final lap rang out. Salazar was still leading, but I was closing the little distance that remained between us. With 200 meters left, I came up alongside Salazar, running shoulder-to-shoulder with him for a few seconds before taking a tenuous lead. With 100 meters left, I put my right hand up to signal to the crowd that I had the strength to finish Salazar off. With 25 meters left, I finally made my surge, for which Salazar had no answer.

I beat Salazar by one tenth of a second and was rewarded with one of the heartiest ovations I ever received. I now consider that race to be the most memorable and exhilarating victory of my running career. In the days and months following my victory, the sports pages and track publications touted the outcome as one of the closest and most thrilling finishes ever in a major track-and-field race.