THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Sunday, November 12, 1995 TAG: 9511120244
SECTION: SPORTS PAGE: C1 EDITION: FINAL
SOURCE: BY DEBRA GORDON, STAFF WRITER
LENGTH: Long : 164 lines
Fifty.
Bill Eyre hit it Nov. 2. But he didn't observe this anniversary with black balloons or gag gifts of canes and hearing aids.
Instead, Eyre spent the day like he's spent most of the past three months - training for today's New York City Marathon.
He finished his daily 10-mile run. Spent an hour at the gym in a toning class. Carbo-loaded during dinner at his favorite Italian restaurant.
And he called his friend Walter Stark to thank him for the birthday present - entering the two of them in the world's largest marathon.
This is a story of friendship, of a dream realized through commitment and hard work - a story of two men who set a goal and then spent one day, one mile at a time, reaching it.
Bill Eyre is a short man with thick, curly gray hair and bushy eyebrows. He is thin - thinner even than in August when he first started training for this marathon.
Eyre, from Hampton, is a latecomer to running. He started in his late 30s and since then has made a small name for himself in local 5K and 10K races, usually coming in among the top third for his age group.
When he's not running, you might find him dressed as a genie or a bear performing in his part-time job with Party Animals, which provides costumed characters for children's parties and other events. Or he might be on stage in a community theater role, or directing a play.
``The creativity you find in theater is one kind of challenge and running is another,'' he said. ``It's not to go faster, just like the challenge of theater is not to be a star. But to make sure you can do the best of whatever you can do.''
Like acting, he said, running is both an independent and an interdependent activity: ``In theater, you always have to work as an ensemble. In running, you're still part of something: you find yourself cheering everyone on. And it's great to be a part of it.''
For a long time now, Eyre has talked of running a marathon in his 50th year. Turning 50, he says, ``doesn't mean it's the end or you're on the downside. It's like: celebrate. What are the many things you could do, different challenges? I'm not going to get a crew cut or start wearing orthopedic shoes.''
Instead, he is going to run 26.2 miles with 27,000 other people.
Eyre met Stark, a Norfolk social worker, at a party about three years ago. Stark, 42, had spent 10 years power-walking in California. When he moved to Norfolk in 1990 he sought a greater challenge and found it in running.
``No matter what's going on, running is like a different kind of a thing,'' Stark said. ``It's not always relaxing - I've hit the wall before - but it is always invigorating.''
The two men are similar in stature, but there the resemblance ends. Stark's hair is thinning and a small mustache perches on his upper lip. In personality, they also differ.
Eyre is excitable. For the past three months, he has been nearly obsessed with today's race.
Stark is calmer. He says a balanced life is crucial, and divides his life into compartments - work, running, friends. The latter two he allows to overlap.
Eyre originally got Stark interested in racing. Once a month for the past three years they have run together. Each time, Eyre told Stark of his dream to run a marathon before he finished his 50th year.
Stark listened, and last Christmas he decided to push Eyre on his marathon dream.
He had a lengthy list of long-distance runs from which to choose - Hawaii, Boston, Los Angeles. Then his boss, a marathoner herself, told him about the New York City Marathon - ``A fun, happy race,'' she called it.
Stark, a native New Yorker, decided then that if he and Eyre were going to run their first marathon, it would be New York's. He joined more than 45,000 other runners in applying for the race. Along with the two $53 registration checks, he added a letter:
``Please consider both of us at the same time, because this is a special year for Bill Eyre as he turns 50 on Nov. 2 and it's a surprise birthday gift to him from me . . . if only one of us gets accepted, then cancel both of the applications.''
Both were accepted.
Eyre's acceptance letter turned up in his mailbox Aug. 8. At first, he thought it was more junk mail from running organizations. Then he opened it.
``Congratulations . . .'' the letter began. Eyre was numb. He knew he hadn't applied to the race. But he knew who did.
Stark received his letter the same day. He sat by the phone, waiting for Eyre to call. When the phone rang, he answered: ``Happy birthday.''
Then the real work began.
There are as many ways to train for a marathon as there are runners in the race.
Eyre's training occurred on the street and in a chilly, gymnasium-sized room at Sentara Hampton Health and Fitness Center, where he took two toning classes and two step aerobic classes a week.
Stark takes a different approach. Every other day, he washes the 25 6-foot windows that encircle the first and second floors of his bayfront house.
His housemate used to have this chore, until Stark realized he could kill two birds with one stone - clean the salt and dirt off the windows and get a good workout.
``I don't have the luxury of time to go to the gym,'' he said as he worked. ``It's a nice workout because you're constantly bending and stretching.''
Then there's the running. Stark does his every morning - early.
Each weekday at 5:30 a.m. he hits Ocean View Boulevard, a small, lonely figure running against the base traffic. Drivers have come to expect him. Some blink their lights at him; others wave.
He runs in the cold, in the rain, and rarely misses a day.
Eyre, however, is a fair-weather runner. He dreads the cold, and his biggest fear about the marathon was that today would be frigid.
He runs every day, too, but never early. He's not a morning person.
But he is a punishing runner. This summer, he ran during the hottest part of the day. If he could make it then, he figured, race day would be a breeze.
Saturday mornings, the two meet for a long run. One week in Hampton; one week in Norfolk. About a month ago, they ran their first marathon distance. It was hot and humid, and they hadn't prepared for it. Two miles from the finish, dehydration hit, turning their knees to rubber, their legs to lead.
They do not expect that problem today. With more than 1 million people waiting at the Central Park finish line, Eyre predicts that once he hits the park, ``it's going to be a whole new psychology.'' They are not fixated on when they finish, just that they finish.
``And what a fantastic birthday present,'' Eyre said. ``Walter gave me the opportunity to have a challenge and has given me something I really wanted at the same time.''
Five days before the race, Eyre and Stark munched butterless bagels at a Norfolk coffeehouse. They're as ready as they'll ever be, they said. And, in typical form, Eyre was bouncing with excitement, Stark sitting calmly.
The past three months have changed them.
``I'm focused, I'm really alert,'' Eyre said. ``Somehow I'm more conscious of a lot of things around me.''
He looks back at his talk about running a marathon when he turned 50 and realizes that without Stark, it would have remained a dream: ``I guess the change is a little more belief in myself.''
Stark sees less of a change in himself. He has not let this date take over his consciousness. The change, he said, is a raised awareness of the way he runs - the way he holds his arms, his stride, how he lands on his feet.
``I don't have any great hopes of finishing this marathon in two hours,'' he said, ``but I do want to finish it feeling fantastic, and looking good.''
They drove to New York on Friday with friends, picked up their registration packets, then went out to dinner. Saturday, Eyre scheduled a ``very soft'' 1-mile run while Stark planned to stay off his feet.
Today, it's up at dawn for the one-hour bus ride to the race start. They've picked out the sweats they'll ``shed'' after they warm up (the race committee donates these clothes to the poor) and decided on their lucky charms: Eyre's white water bottle and candy mints, Stark's red-and-black AIDS cap that his sister gave him.
And despite their protestations about the unimportance of finishing times, they have given the topic some thought. Stark predicted Eyre's time at 3 hours and 30 minutes; his own at 4 hours. Eyre predicted both would finish around 4 hours.
``Somewhere in that run we'll separate in space,'' Eyre said, ``but our minds will always be together and that's a good thing to know.'' ILLUSTRATION: [Color Photos]
Vicki Cronis
Virginian-Pilot photos
Bill Eyre, left, and Walter Stark head out from Fort Monroe in the
midst of their first 26-mile run a month ago. The two have been
training since August.
Eyre, left, and Stark head out Stark head out from Fort Monroe in
the midst of their first 26-mile run a month ago. The two have been
training since August.
KEYWORDS: PROFILE by CNB