The Greatest of These Is Charity

Considering the Future of Running and Charity Giving

Why, then, do so many runners seek to give meaning to their training and racing by dedicating them to a loved one’s memory, or a survivor, or a cause? The issues go deeply into the very nature of the sport.

More than any other sport, running carries meanings greater than itself. In its earliest origins, competitive racing was part of the funeral rituals of bronze-age Mycenaeans and the creation ceremonies of Native Americans, in both cultures a symbolic enactment of the unity of body and spirit. The Greeks held Games to worship their gods, and to honor the memory of dead heroes, as we still name meets after Steve Prefontaine or Harry Jerome.

Running, uniquely among sports, often becomes a symbol of freedom, peace, health or some other ideal. As long ago as 1924 the Czech town of Kosice founded the "Peace Marathon," and in 1990 when the Berlin Wall fell that city’s event became the "Run Free Marathon."

Why does running generate a symbolic significance that is never attached to golf, cycling or tennis? It may spring from the elemental nature of running: pitting will against inertia and dissipation—yet swimmers or climbers don’t feel the same urge.

In the Public Eye

One distinguishing characteristic of running that may lead to an answer is that running is conducted in public. If "ultimate achievement" were the marathon’s only appeal, then climbing a mountain or swimming the English Channel for a good cause would be even more ultimate. The difference is that by completing a marathon, you achieve your ultimate in public, amid the crowds and in front of the cameras of the world’s cities. Posters for programs like Aidsmarathon are unambiguous—the lure is the romantic image of the tired but exultant finisher, receiving acclamation. Phei-dippides conquers and the crowds rejoice.

That image took a hundred arduous years to become implanted in the world’s cultural consciousness. It is now increasingly linked to a consciously hyped phenomenon of public theater: streams of near-exhausted finishers high on endorphins, tearfully greeted by "survivors" to the accompaniment of Beethoven’s "Ode to Joy." As an outpouring of philanthropy, and a way of raising public awareness of good causes, it cannot be faulted. But public attention will inevitably move away from the sport that created the image, and the charities may go with it. Running must ensure that it retains some rights in the deal, that the very psychology and culture by which it defines itself are not wholly appropriated by other purposes—worthy ones, but not those that created and will sustain the sport we know.