Ambrose J. Burfoot, Groton Long Point, Connecticut. 23 years old (born August 19th, 1946). 6'1", 140 pounds. Occupation: elementary school teacher. Training (during 1968): 120 to 150 miles a week at 6:45-7:15 pace, often twice a day; a small amount of fartlek on grass. Times: mile -- 4:19.0, 2-mile -- 8:45.6, 3-mile -- 13:44.8, 6-mile -— 29:26, marathon -- 2:14:28.
Amby Burfoot's tastes run to the unusual -- so much so that the mundane matter of his training pace is the least interesting part of his story. If he hadn't become the United States' second-fastest marathoner of all-time, more straight track people might easily have dismissed him as "carefree," "crank," "hippie," "intellectual" or other descriptions synonymous with anti-athletic attitudes. Amby certainly isn't Jack Armstrong, but he apparently has shown he doesn't have to be to run a 2:14 marathon.
Everything contained in this story was collected from second-hand sources, and for good reason. Burfoot was unreachable during the summer of 1969. In a Thoreau-like move, he decided to spend several months camping in the woods near Storrs, Connecticut. He showed his bearded face in public only to attend classes at the University of Connecticut and to use the gym's shower room.
This is the same Amby Burfoot who once ran a 2:49 marathon on a 10-lap indoor track, just for kicks. He's the young man who wears a painter's cap in races. He loves crashing through his untamed, rock-and-brush-strewn woods on courses that had his friend Bob Deines fearing for his safety, if not his life.
"There was supposed to be an Indian trail there," Bob said. "But I never saw one." This is Burfoot, the psychology student, the elementary school teacher, the reader who devours books and the vegetarian who avoids meat completely "for ethical, not running, reasons."
Even in his running, unusual to say nothing of unexpected things happen to him. In 1968, he became the first American since 1957 to win the Boston Marathon. The last previous U.S. winner had been his longtime friend, training partner, teacher, adviser and neighbor John J. Kelley. Toward the end of 1968, Burfoot got his chance to test the super-fast course at Fukuoka, Japan. He ran beautifully, finishing sixth in 2:14:18.8. That little figure tacked on the end turned out to be quite a significant one. Without it, he would have been the fastest American ever. As it was, he missed Buddy Edelen's "record" by less than a second.
After his big year, which also included track times of 4:19.0 (mile), 8:45.6 (two miles) and 13:44.8 (three miles) with seven-minute per mile training, life complicated Amby's running ambitions a bit. In 1968, he was a student at Wesleyan University and had adequate time for his 120 to 150 miles of running a week.
But once he graduated and began teaching, he found time a more scarce commodity. He maintained his endurance through the December Fukuoka race then had to cut his mileage in half. Under these circumstances, his 17th-place finish and sub-2:30 time in the 1969 Boston race look rather good. Probably no one ahead of him, and few behind him for that matter, were averaging as little as his 10 miles a day.
The amazing reserves Burfoot built in a few years of running (he was then 22) carried him through. Unlike most of us, he was lucky enough to have a good teacher and distance orientation from the start. Kelley saw to that.
"I was always interested in distance running," Burfoot said. "And I got immediately hooked when I first tried it seriously in the 11th grade." Two years later, he was already running a mid-2:30s marathon at age 18. He had avoided the common pattern of maybe a decade of trial-and-error before stumbling onto successful marathon training.
Even with Kelley's influence, Amby remained something of a free thinker on training matters. His system evolved into one of somewhat slower pace and more mileage than his tutor's. At the time of his Boston victory, Amby wrote, "My basic distance training is always quite similar, varying with the seasons and climatic conditions. I train either twice a day, approximately 2 x 10 miles, or take one 15- to 17-mile run. Running is usually done at 6:45 to 7:15 pace, depending on the weather and how I feel."
In regard to longest runs, he reportedly took several 35- to 38-milers before going to Japan last fall. The long, slow miles make up well over 90 percent of Burfoot's training. What "speed work" he does, he said, is "usually fartlek on grass. I do not enjoy running on the track."
He may not enjoy training in circles, but you couldn't prove it by his racing times, particularly indoors in 1968. His best 440 time is only 57.9. Yet on the 11-lap track at Boston Garden, running in Tiger Marathon flats yet, he strung together eight 65-1/2-second quarters for an 8:45.6 two-mile. That amounted to a 20-second improvement of his personal best. A little later in the indoor season, he brought his three-mile down by a similar amount to 13:44.8.
Still, he considers himself primarily a road man, and his first loyalties lie there. "I enjoy the informal, relaxed atmosphere of New England road running much more than the tenseness of important track meets," he said.
Burfoot puts a lot of stock in this idea of maintaining an informal, relaxed atmosphere, possibly because he's so informal and relaxed himself. He once commented that wherever he goes to race, even when he's a stranger in a strange land like Japan, he's immediately friends with other road runners.
"There's an unspoken bond between us," he said. "We understand each other." It isn't surprising, then, when he says the thing that most endears him to running is "the many warm friendships I have made."
Amby says one of his hobbies is encouraging others to run. He wasn't responsible for getting his now good friend Deines started, but indirectly he has strongly influenced the direction Bob's thinking has taken. What advice would Burfoot hand out to a fresh recruit?
"Start slowly in whatever event you choose," he said. "The best strategy is to slowly build up your strength over several years. Practice the art of thinking for yourself, and don't be afraid to assert yourself. Listen to others but realize that ultimately you are best able to judge what is best for yourself. Above all, pay no heed to pressures leveled against you, and compete simply for the sheer enjoyment and excitement of it."
Amby plans to keep on doing just that, even if on a reduced scale from what he was running in 1968. "I have no foreseeable quitting date," he emphasized. "I will run as long as I enjoy it, which should be quite a while as I have a very relaxed, easy-going attitude." In fact, that's his only major ambition -- "to enjoy running for many, many years to come."
Whether the relaxed nature of his running results from his basically easy-going attitude or the attitude grew out of his running methods, a stranger can only speculate. It's safest to assume that this rare blend worked both ways.
It's safe to assume, too, judging by Amby's statements, that he's not through producing unusual and unexpected racing results. "Right now," he said in early 1969, "I'm at those familiar crossroads where I would very much like to do a lot of running but also find heavy demands on my time."
If the time demands let up, be prepared for anything. Until then, he's just following his own simple advice, which cuts through the metaphysics of running and puts it in perspective. "Run with two legs, alternating one in front of the other."