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Even 25 years after his dramatic Boston Marathon victory in a wire-to-wire duel with Dick Beardsley, Salazar is still larger than life. For many Americans, Salazar is the first name in marathoning. When he ran the New York Marathon last November, sharing the pacesetting for cyclist Lance Armstrong with Joan Benoit Samuelson and Hicham El Guerrouj, he got as much attention as the winners. He cannot run from his reputation.
Salazar was the last American man to dominate the marathon. From 1980-82, he won three consecutive New Yorks, including his debut at the distance, and set a world record of 2 hours 8 minutes 13 seconds at New York in 1981. He also set American records in the 10,000 meters (27:25.61) and the 5,000 (13:11.93) and made two Olympic teams. He was confident, even cocky, and more than a little dashing. Born in Cuba but raised in Wayland, he was a hard charger whose success was All-America stuff.
It was his 1982 battle with Beardsley that caught the attention of the American public, as Salazar lunged over the finish line to win by a stride and a half in a course-record 2:08: 52.
Salazar's next stop was a cot in the medical tent, where he was hooked up to IVs in both arms to replenish the liquids he had lost. Starting the race at 145 pounds, he finished at 135.
So perhaps it was Salazar's toughness that made him vulnerable. The race ravaged both men's bodies; neither ran as well again.
In Salazar's stead, there was no one. Greg Meyer was the last American man to win Boston, in 1983. Americans then fell so far back in the pack that not one US runner had a time in the world's top 50 for three years, beginning in 1996. Nike honchos and Salazar, now a Nike employee, were among the many dismayed by the development. Or, more accurately, the lack of development. Distance running in the United States was way off course.
In 2001, Nike created the Oregon Project. Based in Portland and coached by Salazar, the program was greeted with a splash of publicity, including breathless descriptions of the new technologies being used to coax faster times from elite runners.
Salazar's handful of handpicked athletes slept in rooms with a simulated high-altitude environment (to promote the live-high, train-low philosophy), ran on underwater treadmills, stood on vibrating platforms, and wore electrodes on their chests to feed a laptop running the OmegaWave system, which measures heart rate variability. They did mobility drills, strength training, stretching routines, and had regular massages and chiropractic sessions. Most of all, they worked hard.
And then nothing much happened.
Sort of like the marathon itself, the Oregon Project seemed to just plod along. Of course, marathoners know every step of the 26 miles 385 yards has its own story, but most of the audience sees only the start and the finish. Americans want to see Americans first across the finish line, or they lose interest.
But growing a marathon champion takes patience and time. The sizzle of the Salazar name, coupled with the support of Nike, created expectations for immediate results. Instead, when US runners finally emerged in the top 10 in distance races again, they were not Salazar's athletes.
The runners gaining ground came from a score of other training centers. Olympic bronze medalist Deena Kastor and Olympic silver medalist Meb Keflezighi, for example, both train at Team Running USA in California (Mammoth Lakes/San Diego).
The Oregon Project's first group of runners was aiming to run the marathon under 2:10, but they just weren't fast enough. Salazar regrouped; his runners now are aiming for the US Trials in Eugene in 2008.
Those runners include University of Oregon junior Galen Rupp, whom Salazar coached when he set the high school 5K record, and who runs for the Ducks during the collegiate season; Caitlin Chock (the 5K high school record-holder); Dan Browne; Kara and Adam Goucher (both former NCAA champions); and Bret Schoolmeester, who will run Boston Monday.
Salazar has talked about starting elite training with younger athletes, and he has talked about building strength at 5 kilometers and 10 kilometers before moving on to the marathon. And now he wants to stop talking.
"Until we have some results, I don't want to talk about it," Salazar said. "We're just trying to produce good runners.
"There was too much hubbub about the program when it started. Producing marathoners takes time, and [hubbub] puts pressure on the project to get results. The athletes feel it."
Some of that pressure may be diffused by the newest training group, the Oregon Track Club Elite, which started Sept. 1. Organized by University of Oregon coach Vin Lananna, the club has a goal of improving the entire distance running community in Eugene.
"That's what we believe, that good training partners, good facilities, good competitive events, will -- and has -- elevated Olympic hopefuls," said Lananna. "The vast majority of the success of an athlete is based on his or her ability to motivate themselves. But they need to keep it balanced. A coach provides some sense of reason, perspective, and balance.
"One of the worst scenarios for any athlete is to coach himself."
Twenty-five years ago, Salazar listened to himself, and all he could hear was: "Keep pushing!" Lacking self-control, he pushed his body too far, and it fell apart.
The disintegration of his running career has influenced his coaching philosophy. Salazar teaches his runners to keep track of workout times -- or does it for them -- and adjust. Not every day should be hard.
As he explained while taking Kara Goucher through a track workout captured on a webcast at flocasts.com, "I try to be more deliberate now; there has to be a reason for everything. It's a lot more thought out, basically, rather than just running how you feel. When you exceed your expectations for a workout, then you've got to make sure you react to that in the next workout and say, 'OK, now I'm going to run easy.' "
John Brant, who chronicled Salazar's race with Beardsley and the duo's subsequent struggles in the book "Duel in the Sun," talked at length with Salazar about coaching for an upcoming
"He's equally committed to saving his athletes from destruction. He understands more than any other American runner what it takes to reach the top level."
Barbara Matson can be reached at matson@globe.com. ![]()