Experiencing the Boston Marathon from the Press Truck

I was born in a hospital about a mile from the Boston Marathon finish line, which I like to think gave me an early and permanent claim on the event, though I am sure the Boston Athletic Association has never recognized birthplace as a credential. By the time I got to high school and started running cross country and track, I had also started the annual Bay State ritual of traveling to Boston on Patriots’ Day to watch the race, where one could enjoy the peculiar combination of Marathon-Monday athletic majesty and inclement-weather preparedness.

Written by Scott Benbow

Watching the Marathon as a young runner was thrilling because it gave me a close-up view of both heroism and collapse, often separated by only a few strides.

Near the finish, the elite runners glided down Boylston Street as if they could finish the race, and turn around, and run just as quickly back to Hopkinton. Further back, spectators could see the full emotional and biomechanical range of the human species.

From Spectator to Runner

I ran the New York City Marathon in 1979, which meant that by the following spring I was no longer just some teenager admiring marathoners from a safe distance. I had joined the club of people who had voluntarily run 26.2 miles and then spent a week walking downstairs like a very elderly man.

Bill Rogers wins the 1980 Boston Marathon

Track & Field: Boston Marathon: Bill Rodgers (1) in action during race. Boston, MA 4/21/1980 CREDIT: Heinz Kluetmeier (Photo by Heinz Kluetmeier /Sports Illustrated via Getty Images) (Set Number: X24434 TK1 )

Witnessing Greatness

Then came the 1980 Boston Marathon. A high school friend’s father drove the press truck for the race each year and he invited me to ride along. Suddenly I was no longer standing near the finish line craning my neck to watch the race. I was on the truck itself, right in the middle of the race. In the photographic evidence, I can be seen aboard the truck behind the winner Bill Rodgers’s right shoulder in a yellow-and-blue shirt and a full head of red hair, both of which now qualify as historical artifacts.

And from that perch, what I saw was an entire rolling production: motorcycles, police escorts, photographers, officials, spectators, and ahead of it all Bill Rodgers, who dominated the race that year, exquisitely fast and fit. Meanwhile, I was trying to look calm and appropriately press-truck-worthy. I recall I was supposed to be ensuring the safety of spectators, but all I remember was watching Rodgers fly.

So that is my personal highlight reel from the 1980 Boston Marathon: Bill Rodgers in command, Boston seeming like the center of the universe on Patriots’ Day, and me on the press truck trying to project the quiet competence of a seasoned race official while actually behaving like a fan with unusually good access. It blended things I loved: Boston, running, and the Marathon itself. Best of all, there is visual evidence that I was once young and in possession of a spectacular head of red hair.

Forty-two years after I rode on the press truck, I met Bill Rodgers at an event prior to the 2022 Boston Marathon and told him about watching him run from my vehicular vantage point that day. He remembered the truck, especially its noxious fumes, and his victory that day.

About Scott

Scott Benbow is a San Francisco Marathon Ambassador, attorney, nonprofit specialist, and passionate SFM runner. He lives in San Francisco and runs the hills of our incredibly beautiful city with us every year.

Scott’s website: FoundationTrail.com