For the last two years I have been penning my running memoirs.  During the course of literally reliving my past I have developed a deep, deep appreciation for the cast of characters that have played a role on my life stage.

When Arthur appears in my story it is always as a Teacher (with a capitol ‘T’), a Sensei, a Yoda who magically manifests in the nick of time to save my day.

One such occasion was in 1973. I was a teen at the national championships hoping to qualify for the New Zealand Team for the Commonwealth Games. I had already blown my chance in the 1500 meters.

Arthur Lydiard showed up on the warm-up track as I was getting ready for the 800 meters, my last chance to make the team. While I was not coached directly by Arthur he was like the Godfather and anyone who was coached using his system, no matter how many generations removed, were, in his eyes, family. A short stocky guy, he talked fast and directly, standing square on and fixing his eyes on yours. There was no getting around him, and nor would you want to, for his one on one attention was a great compliment and when the master spoke you were compelled to listen and take notice. “What are you doing, mucking about on the track? You’re not paying attention. I saw you waving to your boyfriend in the stands. You should have won that race. Now get out there and run what you’ve trained for and make that team!!” “Yes, Sir,” I muttered weakly, and I went out and qualified for the 800 meters for the Commonwealth Games, only because I was too afraid not to.

Arthur showed up again almost twenty years later in Boulder. He was staying at the home of Priscilla and Dave Welch. I was invited to join them for dinner. The Olympics in Barcelona were just a month away.

Arthur asked me how my training was progressing. I told him that Dick had me on a program of running about 90 miles a week, no track work but lots of long runs that just kept getting faster. “Good, good,” he muttered, then paused as he carefully delivered mashed potatoes on the back of his fork and sipped on his lager. He was mulling my situation over in his head while he chewed, and I sat poised for the verdict which I knew was about to be delivered.

He put down his fork, paused, then looked me straight in the eye in true Arthur-style; unblinking, absolute, omniscient. “Just remember that ninety percent of runners perform below what they are capable of in the Olympics. You’re smart and experienced. You have trained the right way for years. You can win.”

I don’t know where Arthur got his statistics from, and I wonder if he just made it up on the spot, but I held that number in my head. Ninety percent. That leaves 10 percent. There are 60 entrants. That means that I will be competing against just 6 people! Suddenly my task seemed so simple. I never considered that I would be in that ninety percent. I was a ten percent person. But, being a one percent himself, Arthur already knew that.

I could feel myself lifting. The God of Running had just spoken to me. A hope in my heart had now become a distinct probability.

When Arthur returned to New Zealand he made a bold move and announced to the papers that I was ready to win a medal.

As usual he was right.

I last saw Arthur about two years ago. I was visiting New Zealand and made the trip to his home to say hello. As usual he was gracious and welcoming and he and Joelyne invited us to stay for dinner and we sat talking till late into the evening. He was now shuffling around with his two artificial knees and when he spoke I had to listen carefully for his speech was slightly slurred from his strokes.  He now biked for exercise, he told me, but while it was no problem mounting the bike off from his porch, dismounting with unbending knees was something of a concern. Easily solved. When done with his ride he would return to the soft grass in his backyard and flop the bike on its side with him still on it. That MO was Arthur’s hallmark. He did not pause to think whether or not something could be done, but how it could be done. And then he set about and did it.   

Arthur was winding down and it seemed to me essential that something be down to preserve and promote Arthur’s works to ensure an ongoing legacy when he passed on. With my friend, Nobby Hashizume, we set about to seed the Arthur Lydiard Foundation, the result of which culminated in Arthur’s recent and last tour of the United States to launch such an organization.

Nobby, mindful of his fragility, organized for Arthur to be assisted from city to city and put out careful instructions to give him rest and not overwork him. But Arthur had already gone supernova and was not having a bar of it. He was magnificent. He toured sixteen cities and magnetised huge crowds wherever he went. In six cities he drew over 200 people, and we estimate that Arthur spoke to many more than 3000 runners and coaches during his last 6 weeks. They loved him. The Boulder lecture was a stunning success with over 400 people attending. In Houston the day before he died Arthur spoke to a crowd of 600. When he wasn’t lecturing he loved to be propped in a chair in a running store and talk shop to whoever happened to come in. The running community fell in love with him, and with his passing many people called with tears and gratitude expressing their appreciation for having had the chance to meet this great man. Over here they have taken to referring to him as ‘our Arthur’.

I suppose you could say that Arthur peaked. His timing was impeccable to deliver a spectacular grand finale. Now he is resting.

There is so much I would like to tell him but without his presence I can only speak my words out into the air we breathe in and onto the earth we run over and know that Arthur is everywhere and I say to him from the bottom of my heart, thank-you for gracing my stage.

Lorraine Moller.

IMAGES:

UPPER RIGHT (Lorraine Moller represented NZ in the Olympic marathon four times, winning the bronze medal in 1992; she also won 1984 Boston marathon. She was first coached by John Davies who was trained directly by Arthur; then by Dick Quax who was trained by Davies. )

LOWER LEFT (Moller is a native New Zealander, residing Boulder, CO. She is the co-founder of the Arthur Lydiard Foundation. )