Shoe Dog

Dawn

"And then it happened. As my young heart begin to thump, as my pink lungs expanded like the wings of a bird, as the trees turned to greenish blurs, I saw it all before me exactly what I wanted my life to be. Play.

Yes, I thought, that's it. That's the word. The secret of happiness, I'd always suspected, the essence of beauty or truth, or all we ever need to know of either, lay somewhere in that moment when the ball is in midair, when both boxers sense the approach of the bell, when the runners near the finish line and the crowd rises as one. There's a kind of exuberant clarity in that pulsing half second before winning and losing are decided. I wanted that, whatever that was, to be my life, my daily life." (p.3)

"... Now, as I began to clip off one brisk six-minute mile after another, as the rising sun set fire to the lowest needles of the pines, I asked myself: What if there were a way, without being an athlete, to feel what athletes feel? TO play all the time, instead of working? Or else to enjoy work so much that it becomes essentially the same thing." (p.3-4)

"... At twenty-four I did have a Crazy Idea, and somehow, despite being dizzy with existential angst, and gears about the future, and doubts about myself, as all young men and women in their midtwenties are, I did decide that the world is made up of crazy ideas. History is one long processional of crazy ideas. The things I loved most - books, poetry, democracy, free enterprise - started as crazy ideas." (p.5)

"For that matter, few ideas are as crazy as my favorite thing, running. It's hard. It's painful. It's risky. The rewards are few and far from guaranteed. When you run around an oval track, or down an empty road, you have no real destination. At least, none that can fully justify the effort. The act itself becomes the destination it's not just that there's no finish line; it's that you define the finish line. Whatever pleasures or gains you derive from the act of running, you must find them within. It's all in how you frame it, how you sell it to yourself.

Every runner knows this. You run and run, mile after mile, and you never quite know why. You tell yourself that you're running toward some goal, chasing some rush, but really you run because the alternative, stopping, scares you to death.

So that morning in 1962 I told myself: Let everyone else call your crazy idea... just keep going. Don't stop. Don't even think about stopping until you get there, and don't give much thought to where 'there' is. Whatever comes, just don't stop.

That's the precocious, prescient, urgent advice I managed to give myself, out of the blue, and somehow managed to take. Half a century later, I believe it's the best advice - maybe the only advice any of us should ever give." (p.5)

1962

"I spent weeks reading, planing, preparing for my trip. I went for long runs, musing on every detail while racing the wild geese as they flew overhead. Their tight V formations - I'd read somewhere that the geese in the rear of the formation, cruising in the backdraft, only have to work 80 percent as hard as the leaders. Every runner understands this. Front runners always work the hardest, and risk the most." (p.15)

"They showed me three different models of Tigers. A training shoe, which they called a Limber Up. 'Nice,' I said. A high-jump shoe, which they called a Spring Up. 'Lovely,' I said. And a discus shoe, which they called a Throw Up.

Do not laugh, I told myself. Do not... laugh." (p.30)

The man who moves a mountain begins by carrying away small stones - Confucius

1964

- Boweman -

"Part of his mind was always back in Fossil, which was funny, because there was something distinctly fossilized about him. Hard, brown, ancient, he possessed a prehistoric strain of maleness, a blend of grit and integrity and calcified stubbornness that was rare in Lyndon Johnson's America. Today it's all but extinct." (p.46)

"The most famous track coach in America, Bowerman never considered himself a track coach. He detested being called Coach. Given his background, his makeup, he naturally thought of track as a means to an end. He called himself a 'Professor of Competitive Responses,' and his job, as he saw it, and often described it, was to get you ready for the struggles and competitions that lay ahead, far beyond Oregon." (p.47)

-

"Driving back to Portland I'd puzzle over my sudden success at selling. I'd been unable to sell encyclopedias, and I'd despised it to boot. I'd been slightly better at selling mutual funds, but I'd felt dead inside. So why way selling shoes different? Because, I realized, it wasn't selling. I believed in running. I believed that if people got out and ran a few miles every day, they world would be a better place, and I believed these shoes were better to run in. People, sensing my belief, wanted some of that belief for themselves. Belief, I decided. Belief is irresistible." (p.55-56)

I thought back on my running career at Oregon. I'd competed with, and against, men far better, faster, more physically gifted. Many were future Olympians. And yet I'd trained myself to forget this unhappy fact...

1971

"It was dark as I walked out of the office building, into the crowded Tokyo street. A feeling came over me, unlike anything I'd every experienced. I felt spent, but proud. I felt drained, but exhilarated. I felt everything I ever hoped to feel after a day's work. I felt like an artist, a creator. I looked back over my shoulder, took one last look at Nissho's offices. Under my breath I said, 'We made this.'" (p.192)

1972

- Pre -

"Sometimes I thought the secret to Pre's appeal was his passion. He didn't care if he died crossing the finish line, so long as he crossed first. No matter what Bowerman told him, no matter what his body told him, Pre refused so slow down, ease off. He pushed himself to the brink and beyond. This was often a counterproductive strategy, and sometimes it was plainly stupid, and occasionally it was suicidal. But it was always uplifting for the crowd. No matter the sport - no matter the human endeavor, really - the total effort will win people's hearts." (p.210)

"For eleven laps they ran a half stride apart. With the crowd now roaring, frothing, shrieking, the two men entered the final lap. It felt like a boxing match. It felt like a joust. It felt like a bullfight, and we were down to that moment of truth - death hanging in the air. Pre reached down, found another level - we saw him do it. He opened up a hard lead, then two, then five. We saw Young grimacing and we knew that he could not, would not, catch Pre. I told myself, Don't forget this. Do no forget. I told myself there was much to be learned from such a display of passion, whether you were running a mile or a company.

... I'd never witnessed anything quite like that race. And yet I didn't just witness it. I took part in it. Days later I felt sore in my hams and quads. This, I decided, this is what sports are, what they can do. Like books, sports give people a sense of having lived other lives, of taking part in other people's victories. And defeats. When sports are at their best, the spirit of the fan merges with the spirit of the athlete, and in that convergence, in that transference, is the oneness that the mystics talk about." (p.211-212)

1973

You are remembered for the rules you break. - Douglas MacArthur

"Intelligence like Strasser's, however, couldn't be hidden for long. He was one of the greatest thinkers I ever met. Debater, negotiator, talker, seeker - his mind always whirring, trying to understand. And to conquer. He saw life as a battle and found confirmation for this view in books. Like me, he read compulsively about war." (p.231)