Gary Muhrcke was the winner of the first New York City Marathon in 1970 in 2:31:39. Muhrcke, who now lives in Huntington on Long Island, was a firefighter at the time and was generally sleepless after a night of battling blazes when he made his claim on marathoning history, achieving a distinction he acknowledges means more now than it did 39 years ago ("I'm not so sure sleeping the night before is so important," suggests Muhrcke. "The week before is important"). Muhrcke was perhaps the most talented competitor in the small corps of New York area distance runners in the 1960s, when most of the city's road races took place in the Bronx, near Yankee Stadium. Muhrcke was a two-time winner of the Yonkers Marathon, which in that era was second in this country only to Boston in prestige. He is also a runner of the Empire State Building Run-Up. He is now known for his chain of Super Runners Shops and New Balance Stores, 11 outlets in all, including one at the Armory Track and Field Center at 168th Street in Manhattan. Muhrcke appeared at a luncheon with reporters in New York on Monday with another 1970 New York City Marathoners, Bill Newkirk who is 74 and has done 17 marathons. The first New York City Marathon was entirely within Central Park, had 127 starters and 55 finishers. The entry fee was $1; the total budget was $1,000.Bill Newkirk's opening comment: "Fred (Lebow) had dreamed of moving the race (the old Cherry Tree Marathon) from the Bronx to Central Park for a number of years, and he personally called everybody who ran in the race. It was the only way he could get people. Everybody who ran in the race was capable of finishing. The reason they didn't was because it was a very warm day - I believe it was in the 80s - and they ran out of water after about 12 miles. When people completed their second six-mile loop, there was no water for them, and I noticed that was when most people dropped out. I thought I would try another loop to see how well I could do, and once I did that, I completed the last one (he was 47th in 4:19:21). It was not easy. We were totally ignored by the people (visiting the park). You couldn't see the runner in front of you or behind you. Basically everybody ran alone; we were just spread out that much. But it was great of him (Lebow) to do it. He was genius, I think, when it came to organization and promotion and work. He was always there making sure that everything went well. I'm just happy that he called me and I was able to show up."
Gary, you'd run Yonkers (a famously hilly and difficult course). What was more difficult, Yonkers or four times around the northern (Harlem) hills of Central Park?
Gary Muhrcke: I don't know, I'll tell you truth. All the last nine miles of Yonkers was very tough. I think four laps around Central Park, with Cat Hill and the Harlem hills on the west side, I don't know if there's marathon that could be any tougher than that.
How did you feel the fourth time around on the northern hills?
GM: Well, I had it easier than anybody else, because anybody else was finishing behind me.
Can you take us back to the day going into the race?
GM: I had worked the night before (at the fire station in Far Rockaway), and we were busy. And I had called my wife at about 8:30 in the morning and said "you know, I don't really want to go (to Central Park), I think I'm going to come home and take it easy." I don't want to run a marathon on September 13 (with) 85 degrees possible. I heard a disappointment in her voice, because we had three little children. I said "alright, we'll go, let's go, pick me up, we'll go."
And we entered at the race, and I had #2 on me. And of course, Joe Kleinerman (the NYRR registrar) kept the first ten numbers for people he knew were going to run reasonably well (Ted Corbitt got #1). So, you know, $1 and we were there. We were on the line and I had not run competitively for awhile, and I knew Pat Bastick was running reasonably well. I basically wanted to stay with him; I felt that he would run respectably. So I stayed with him and we did the lower loop (about two miles) and then we did two (six-mile) loops. And I guess we were in about ten place with two loops to go, and all of the sudden he says "I quit."
So I was out there by myself and I had to get into it mentally, and I had to adjust my stride and my pace and was actually able to pick up the pace. With one lap to go, I was in third place and I caught Tom Fleming going up the East Side. And I caught Moses Mayfield at the north end of the park, before we went up the Harlem hill. He was going so slow at the time compared to what I was running, and there were bicycle riders with (around) him and they said "no, that guy's not in the race, don't worry about him." That was the difference in our pace at the time.... Moses Mayfield was from Baltimore and he always ran very, very hard in the beginning of the race. He faded to eighth place, 'cause he was pushing a piano up that hill.
When you came across the finish line, did you think it was a big deal?
GM: No. It was just another race. Thank God we were finishing.
How did the tradition of your wife Jane providing the laurels wreaths for the winners begin? Was that at the first race?
GM: No. No laurels for the first race. Fred was at our house and they (Jane and Lebow) were walking to the beach, and walking and talking, and they started talking something about laurels and laurel wreaths. And Fred said "why don't we make them for this year's race," and Jane said "okay, I'll do it."
What did you get for winning in New York?
GM: I got a trophy and a watch. The trophy is broken. The watch, I don't know where it is.
So obviously, that first year, you couldn't have known the magnitude of your win. When did you start to perceive that? Was it even before 1976 (the year of the first five-borough marathon)?
GM: Today! (Laughs)
George Hirsch, the Publisher Emeritus of "Runner's World and current NYRR Chairman of the Board of Directors, notes: "I can remember the first time I saw Gary. There were no races, of course, in Central Park back then. They were all held outside of Yankee Stadium and they gave us that little locker room; believe us, it wasn't the locker room where the Yankees change clothes. We'd meet up there and it didn't matter what the distance was, the races were all sort of out and back, out and back.... Gary at that point was the best runner in the New York area and I'd never met him. And I had never seen really good roadrunners. Gary was a form runner. He really looked great. This was long before seeing people like Shorter and Rodgers who obviously were beautiful runners.
Because it was up and back, up and back, you got to see the leaders over and over. It was a chilly day, and Gary was wearing a white shirt, long sleeves, and it had "Millrose" on the front of it. Each time he'd be coming back against the field, he'd be further and further ahead. The second or third time, he'd say something encouraging to the people behind him like "looking good" or "feeling great." I liked the camaraderie of all this. I just liked the feeling of it. Gary was always encouraging to people. But in our little world at that time, he was the guy. There was just no question about it.
Gary, did you run the next year in New York, in 1971?
GM: No. I don't know why. I know I ran the first five-borough (marathon in 1976). I got hurt in '72, and it took me a couple of years before I got back into running again. I know I ran in '76. I've run a few since then. I think I've run 12 New Yorks (most recently in 1999).
Had you been a collegiate runner?
GM: No. I actually ran in high school, but I went into the Marine Corps. I got out, I got married, and that's when I started running (again).
Was your victory (in 1970) important to your colleagues at the firehouse?
GM: No. It was just another race. I was a strange person who ran, to them, I think. Today it's more important than it was 40 years ago, Without a doubt.
Did it get any kind of mention?
GM: Yes, there was a picture of myself in the "Daily News" and in "The Times." There was no advertisement. There was no publicity. No one was interested in runners. There was an article in the "Times" last week about people running slow. That's not me. I'm from a different era, and (when) I put a number on, I'm competitive with myself.
But could you imagine if everybody in this country ran one marathon a year? Forty thousand is a lot, but I'm not in awe of that in any way, shape, or form. When you have 100,000 people watching a football game at so many locations in this country, I don't think 40,000 is the right number. It's very, very small. I would love for everybody in this country to run one marathon a year. That's all. And I think we'd be better off physically .... You can see these people coming across the finish line in 4:00, and they are as happy and maybe even more happy than people finishing in 2:15. They're delighted with their achievement. It has to be great for them.
ShareThis