25 Years Ago in Bonac Sports: 07.19.18

July 5, 1993

The Doctor was “in” at Southampton Hospital’s Firecracker five-kilometer road race Saturday, and he had brought with him a ditty bag containing items that a conscientious runner should not forget, including Vaseline, tape, Advil, safety pins, Rolaids, surgical felt, a ski mask, an extra pair of socks that could double as gloves, a pulse monitor (“for sophisticated runners”), and an anti-asthmatic inhaler (“because 15 percent of runners are asthmatic, and most don’t know it”).

The Doctor was George Sheehan, the 75-year-old philosopher king of long-distance running, who was spending the week in Sag Harbor with his large family, and who, according to one of his daughters, Sarah Adams, wanted to get out that day and see some runners.

. . . Asked if he believed in “no-pain-no-gain,” Dr. Sheehan said, “Most of your training should be done at a conversational pace. If you hurt when you’re training, you’re doing something wrong. If you hurt in a race, you’re doing something right. . . . If there’s a dispute between the book and your body, listen to your body — you become your own expert.”

. . . As for his ditty bag, copied after the bags English seamen packed in the days of sail, Dr. Sheehan said he had come up with the items by asking fellow runners at races what they had forgot. Anthropologists 500 years from now would consider it a find, he thought; meanwhile, he might market it. “The pulse monitor,” he noted, “keeps you from going out too fast.”

Dr. Sheehan’s presence at the race had encouraged one of his Manhattan College teammates, Andy Neidnig, to turn out, in a Manhattan College singlet. Neidnig, who turned 74 on Saturday, and Dr. Sheehan were members of Manhattan’s IC4A cross-country championship team in 1939. 

. . . Neidnig made it around the course that morning without incident — because of blood clots in his legs he had not raced in the past year — as did all the other entrants, in whose number were six of Dr. Sheehan’s 12 children.

The Doctor was there at the finish line with good wishes for all. “Good job . . . good start for the day. . . . Let’s hurt a little. . . . Nice run, nice run. . . . You saved too much, Mary Jane. . . . Congratulations!”

July 5, 1993

The Doctor was “in” at Southampton Hospital’s Firecracker five-kilometer road race Saturday, and he had brought with him a ditty bag containing items that a conscientious runner should not forget, including Vaseline, tape, Advil, safety pins, Rolaids, surgical felt, a ski mask, an extra pair of socks that could double as gloves, a pulse monitor (“for sophisticated runners”), and an anti-asthmatic inhaler (“because 15 percent of runners are asthmatic, and most don’t know it”).

The Doctor was George Sheehan, the 75-year-old philosopher king of long-distance running, who was spending the week in Sag Harbor with his large family, and who, according to one of his daughters, Sarah Adams, wanted to get out that day and see some runners.

. . . Asked if he believed in “no-pain-no-gain,” Dr. Sheehan said, “Most of your training should be done at a conversational pace. If you hurt when you’re training, you’re doing something wrong. If you hurt in a race, you’re doing something right. . . . If there’s a dispute between the book and your body, listen to your body — you become your own expert.”

. . . As for his ditty bag, copied after the bags English seamen packed in the days of sail, Dr. Sheehan said he had come up with the items by asking fellow runners at races what they had forgot. Anthropologists 500 years from now would consider it a find, he thought; meanwhile, he might market it. “The pulse monitor,” he noted, “keeps you from going out too fast.”

Dr. Sheehan’s presence at the race had encouraged one of his Manhattan College teammates, Andy Neidnig, to turn out, in a Manhattan College singlet. Neidnig, who turned 74 on Saturday, and Dr. Sheehan were members of Manhattan’s IC4A cross-country championship team in 1939. 

. . . Neidnig made it around the course that morning without incident — because of blood clots in his legs he had not raced in the past year — as did all the other entrants, in whose number were six of Dr. Sheehan’s 12 children.

The Doctor was there at the finish line with good wishes for all. “Good job . . . good start for the day. . . . Let’s hurt a little. . . . Nice run, nice run. . . . You saved too much, Mary Jane. . . . Congratulations!”