The Greatest of These Is Charity

Considering the Future of Running and Charity Giving

The sheer difficulty of running a marathon gives it the "I could never do that" cachet that attracts donors—particularly when the one asking is not known as athletic. Yet in asking, and in donating, they affirm the cultural consensus that anything difficult is worth doing only for money. It is as if running needs to justify the self-preoccupation and effort that it demands. "I’m in training to raise money for autistic children" wins more social approval at the office, a party or the local newspaper, than "I’m in training to take 30 seconds off my PR," regardless of how dubious the connection between the training and the cause.

Mid-pack runners interviewed by WBZ television during this year’s Boston Marathon were all asked "Why are you running this?" Without exception they replied "For such-and-such charity," or "For my sister with cancer," or something similar. No one said they were running for a PR, a place, the challenge or the joy of it. Today, it seems, there are few runners who can echo Charles Sorley’s great poem about running free ("Song of the Ungirt Runners") and say "We run without a cause ...We run because we like it/ Through the broad bright land."

There are also few who honor the ancient Greeks’ ideal of "excellence." Through competition, the Greeks believed, humanity comes closest to the gods, and through competition the human condition is best improved. Our culture, even our runners, seem embarrassed about competing. Runners before a recent charity race in New York were told "Today you’re not racing against each other, you’re racing against teen smoking." One of the authors of this essay, among the starters that day, inwardly disagreed. He was there, he decided, to compete in his age-group, believing with the Greeks that the effort and aspiration of racing are intrinsically fulfilling and beneficial to humanity.

Within these observations lies a key chafing point for those for whom running is a joyful, worthwhile activity in and of itself: the transformation of the sport’s image into a means to an end for which nearly any activity could substitute ("I’m training to balance a broomstick on my nose for 5 hours to raise funds for cancer research, would you like to contribute?"). Or, perhaps the physical effort involved in running is necessary to motivate the outpouring of support, yet this leaves the image of the sport as difficult, painful labor, or even a cross to bear as if to share in the suffering of those for whom you are supporting. Why, we ask, does running enter into the equation between a need like health research and the resources with which the needs are met?

Running From the Heart

For the charities, the answer is simple: it works. The numbers speak for themselves that somehow this association with training and effort motivates donors. Furthermore, the charities didn’t go looking for runners, the runners came to the charities. "This fell in our lap," says Sue Shay of Fred’s Team, which raises funds for the Memorial Sloan-Kettering Cancer Center, referring to the individuals who began in the early 1990s to dedicate their runs and raise funds for cancer research in honor of New York City Marathon founder Fred Lebow. Lebow himself, rather ironically, vocally opposed charity endeavors in road racing before his cancer diagnosis. Team in Training (TNT) similarly traces its history to a runner who organized his friends into a team that raised funds and trained together for the 1988 New York City Marathon. It is runners who are to credit, or blame, for starting this association.