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Bobby, let's make
a pan left now. Left.

Your other left, Bobby.

Hello.

Close that door.

All right, stand by
to cue to suits.

We're coming to 6 next.
Get the VTRs ready.

Thank you.

All right, Irvo, you're on 228.

Billy, you're on 904.
Johnny, you're on 274.

And, Vic, you're on 61.
Ready to cue Jones.

And... Cue Jones.
Take 6!

Hello again, everybody,

and welcome to the Olympic
Stadium here in Munich.

This is Charlie Jones
along with Fred Long

as we get set for
the men's 5,000 meters.

An absolutely gorgeous day.

Charlie, this race has
the potential, on paper,

of being the most competitive

of the entire
men's track competition.

Lasse Viren.
Is he the favorite?

He has to be.

He's been running the best
of anyone in the world

for the past 6 weeks,

and he is the current
Olympic 10,000 meter champion.

He has the psychological edge.

Here he is, winning in world
record time just a few days ago.

I have no specific tactic.

I just want to be ready
when the race starts.

Take one!
Ready to wipe it in...

This is the greatest
5,000-meter field

in Olympic history.

10 of these men
have set world records

or won major championships.

Bring it in!

It's a mythic race.

There is a reason.

This was the longest distance in

the ancient Olympic games.

Run the 5,000,
and you share something unique

with those who've run it before.

What is that?

Pain, Charlie.

13 minutes of pain
that only they know.

And so it will be
a Finnish policeman,

a Belgian gardener,
a Tunisian soldier,

and ironically, here in Munich,

from Coos Bay, Oregon,
a mill worker's son

who was raised in a
German-speaking household.

Earlier, when I talked to
both Stewart and Prefontaine,

I asked them how they thought
the race might unfold.

Well, I think
it'll probably be down

to Viren and myself,

with Prefontaine trying
to chase us down

in the last kilometer.

I'd like to work it out
so that in the end,

it comes down to
a pure guts race.

Stand by, 4.

If it is, I'm the only one

who can win it.

14 qualifiers,

13 on the starting line.

Mariano Haro of Spain
has withdrawn.

5,000 meters.

12 1/2 laps for the gold medal.

The gun is up.

It is a fair start,

and the 13 finalists are away.

Man, voice-over:
Citius,

altius, fortius.

That means "faster,
higher, stronger."

It's been the motto
for the Olympics

for the last 2,500 years.

But it doesn't mean
faster, higher, and stronger

than who you're
competing against.

Just faster, higher, stronger.

One runner brought
this home to me.

From the beginning,
I tried to change him.

And from the beginning,
he tried not to change.

That was our relationship,

and even that never changed.

He couldn't stand
a crowd--

always wanted to race out
front from the start,

like he was trying to
get away from something.

Just where and when this compulsion
came from, no one can say for sure,

so, like Plato and his tale
of the world's creation,

I will not say absolutely
this is the truth...

But I will say
it is a likely story.

We're going to get you!
You better run, boy!

Run, you little German boy!

Yeah, we've got you
surrounded, you little kraut!

Mom's not here now!

There's no way of getting out now!
We've got you surrounded!

Get back here, you heinie!

Where are you going now?
You're gonna get tired!

Mom ain't here now, boy.

We got you.
We're right on your heels!

You get him!
Get ready to get him!

Get him, get him, get him, get him!
Come on, let's go!

There he is! I got him, I got
him, I got him, I got him--oh!

And this is surely
being left to the fastest miler.

Prefontaine believes it's him.

So the American now committed.

The American in front.

Almost a cult
in the United States,

he's a sort of athletic Beatle.

There are t-shirts around--
"go Pre!"

There goes Pre.
Maybe this is the race.

You can't catch me!
You'll never catch me!

You don't have the guts!

This is a mess. I haven't
seen your boy Prefontaine.

How am I supposed to pick him out
of--what do you got, 200 runners?

You'll see him.

Holy shit.

Hey, Bill, if Bowerman doesn't
believe in recruiting,

why are we here?

Because Bowerman doesn't
believe in recruiting.

So he has us do it.

This is it.

Yeah, well...

At least today you boys can
leave your shoes in the car.

Hey, ma...
They're here.

Whoa! Kenny Moore!

16th in the marathon
to Mexico City.

14th, actually, it was.

And Roscoe Devine,
a 3:57 mile

when Jim Ryan ran
a 3:56.5.

God! Is there anything worse
than being second best, huh?

Well, thanks for coming
to see me, guys.

Mr. Dellinger.

So, um...
How about an easy 10?

Uh...

We left our running shoes
in the car.

Ok. Do you want me
to go get them for you?

My mom's just inside, Mr. Dellinger,
if you want something to eat.

Great. Thanks.

Boy, sure let's you know
Bowerman's a legend, doesn't it?

Steve's room's like
a shrine to Bill.

Oregon
is the land of the Bill coaches.

Bill Hayward, Bill Dellinger...
Bill Bowerman.

You want my boy to go to
the University of Oregon?

Oh, yes, very much so.
Steve's a very special kid.

This pace too fast for you?

No, it's fine.

See, I realized now I should've
started my kick sooner,

but I still finished with a 8:41.5,
which set a national record.

Oh, man.

Actually,
you might be surprised,

but that's kind of
why we're here.

Yeah. Word of talent
like that tends to get around.

Talent's got nothing
to do with it.

Whoa! Oh! Aah!

Sorry, guys.

I guess I should've let you
know I was gonna turn, huh?

Hey, no sweat.

I'm gonna get this fuckin' kid.

Oh! Aah...

So, Steve, what about
coming to Oregon?

Does Bowerman want me there?

Yes, absolutely.

Oregon's the place for you.

But not enough to
ask me himself, huh?

Well, he considers
the most valuable thing

the University has to offer
is an education.

Hey, anything else
is almost immoral.

Uh-huh.

Well, no big deal, you know.

My Ray works as a carpenter,
Steve at a gas station.

After school, he has
a fine opportunity

to become an insurance adjuster

right here in Coos Bay.

We have no time for dreams
that we can't afford.

There's no cost involved.

No one can afford dreams
that won't come true.

That's a price my Stevie
is not going to pay.

Mrs. Prefontaine,
your boy is Olympic stuff.

Mr. Dellinger, she's not
going to be convinced

about me running anywhere...

Not at Stanford
or Pennsylvania or Iowa,

Villanova, Brown, Nebraska...

Then again, she doesn't
have to be convinced. I do.

And only one guy at Oregon can do
that, and he hasn't bothered to try.

Steve, Bowerman's philosophy
about recruiting--

Mr. Dellinger, I've got 3 weeks
to sign my letter of intent

before I lose my slot at
any college worth going to,

so... Here's my philosophy:

I don't go anywhere near Eugene

unless Bowerman personally
let's me know he wants me.

Yeah, I know.

I understand that,
Bill, please, but--

Bill, Bill, please listen
to me, for god's sake.

Everybody in the country is
offering this kid the moon.

All he wants from you
is one word,

just to know
you want to coach him.

That's it. He just wants to
know you want to coach him.

Aw, shit!

Hey, ma!

Just get an education.

That would be nice,
too, you know.

Bowerman, voice-over:
If you'd do us the honor

of attending
the University of Oregon,

there is no doubt in my mind
that you can become

the nation's
finest distance runner--

perhaps the world's.

Sincerely,
William J. Bowerman.

♪ Jackie is just speeding away ♪

Yes, sir!
♪ thought she was James Dean for a day ♪

♪ then I guess
she had to crash ♪

♪ Valium would have
helped that dash ♪

That's good, Melanie, because then
you'll have 3 classes in a row,

and then you'll have
a big break.

Excuse me! I'm sorry.

Where is McArthur court?
Do you know?

Right.

Thank you!

You're welcome!

Numb-nut!

Go ahead.

Savage!

Hey, Roscoe!

Here I am.
I made it.

Yep.
Yep.

So is everybody here
to see Bowerman?

Uh-huh.
Is that where he is?

Behind there.
Right behind there.

Is everybody here
running distance?

Mm-hmm. Yes.

So, Kenny,
maybe you could give me

a couple of tips about Bowerman.

He's a little touchy.
About what?

Working out too hard.

Not working out hard enough.

All depends on who
he's dealing with, Steve.

Bowerman caught Bob back there
sweeping out his church.

Kicked him off the team a week.

Just praying would've
been all right.

Sweeping it out was
too much like work.

Yeah. Right.
Seriously, Kenny.

He was in Italy, World War
II, Tenth Mountain Division.

So?

Well, he single-handedly
negotiated

the surrender of
the eighth German army.

All 8,000 of them.

When he commands...
You obey.

Well, I'm not the German army,

and I'm not here to surrender.

Prefontaine.

Yes, sir?

Over here.

Take off your shoe.

Your right one.

Put it down.

Now put your foot on here.

You make everybody's shoes?

Everybody that runs.

Why? Cost?

Weight.

What's a good miler's stride?

Two yards.

So that's 880 steps.

Take an ounce off the shoe,

that's 880 ounces.

In a mile, that's
55 pounds of weight

you don't have to carry.

Wow. What a good idea.

That's 110 pounds a mile
if you count both feet.

I already counted both feet.

Lift your foot, damn it.

Sorry, coach.

You don't call me coach.

Meanest son-of-a-bitch
I ever met in my life

insisted on being called that,

and as we all know,

I'm a kind and forbearing man.

Welcome to the University of Oregon.
I'm Bill Bowerman.

I know.
I'm Steve Prefontaine.

I know.

Take off your other shoe, Steve.

Last night,
the physical education building

on the campus of the University
of Oregon was set on fire.

It is believed that this was
in protest of the Vietnam War,

since ROTC uniforms were stored
amongst the athletic sweat clothes

in the building's basement.

"Moreover, thou shalt provide
out of all the people..."

Hey, Bob, what time is it?

7:24.

Genesis?

Exodus.

Hey.

Why...

Why does Bowerman call a
team meeting for 7:27?

What's wrong with 7:30?

Hold on. I'll tell
him why, gentlemen.

7:27 provokes the
question, "why 7:27?"

And everybody gets here
at 7:27 to find out why.

When students burn
a campus building,

it becomes necessary for us

to disassociate ourselves
from that behavior.

I'm not suggesting that you
support the Vietnam War

any more than I'm suggesting
that this university should.

I am saying that your
appearance cannot be construed

to support a form of protest

that burns down the buildings
of the institution

that feeds, houses,
and sustains us all.

So...

We have a little cosmetic
work ahead of us.

Haircuts.

The question before us
is how much to cut.

Well, Bill, this is not
going to be fair.

Why not?

Ok, so what's the standard
for how long hair gets

before it's considered
offensive?

It's a completely
arbitrary length,

no matter what it is.

So is the length
of a meter, Steve.

Does that make a
100-meter race unfair?

Of course not. Not when everyone
agrees on what the length is.

Well, then let's all
agree on the length.

Nobody on the Oregon track team

will have hair longer
than his dick,

which means everybody gets
a haircut except Bob.

Well, why except Bob, hmm?

God's will, Steve.

God's will?

Way to go, Bob.

Men of Oregon,

I invite you to become
students of your events.

Running, one might say,

is basically an absurd pastime

upon which to be
exhausting ourselves.

But if you can find meaning
in the kind of running

you have to do
to stay on this team,

chances are you'll
be able to find meaning

in another absurd pastime...

Life.

Does this guy
ever have anything to say?

What guy?
About what?

Bowerman. About
running, you know?

Like, uh... Coaching?

Well, if he's got
something to say,

he usually says it.

Prefontaine!
Come here a minute.

You usually run with your
butt sticking out like that?

Stand up straight.

You want a plumb line
to run from your ear

through your hips to your feet.

Ok. Now let
your hips relax.

Now that's pretty much
like you were running.

Lift your knee.

Now cock your hips up under you.

Under you.

Like at the moment of
deepest penetration.

Now lift your knee.

It's easier to lift your knee
when you tuck your pelvis under.

You're not fighting your
own body's mechanics.

Makes you
a more efficient runner.

You can put your knee down now.

Bill.

All right, gentlemen,
cardinal rule:

No racing in workouts.

We're doing a mile at 3/4 effort.
That's 4:40, Max.

Everyone should be able
to stay together.

That's not staying together.

That's 4:30, Steve.
You're 10 seconds fast.

Your pulse is north of 190.

It's just a rough guess,

but I'd say you were exceeding

the agreed-upon
speed limit, rube.

Hey, Bill, I lost a spike.

One?

Yeah.

Bill, not
the ripple-soles again.

What's wrong with them?

Digging the dog shit
out of them, for one thing.

I don't want to be your Guinea pig.
Give them to Moore.

Let him try them.

You know, I'm working on
something new, Roscoe--

urethane spikes
from a special mold.

Light as a feather.

Wow. Bill, looks like you
got it off a waffle iron.

It's a very promising
configuration.

I expect all my runners
will try it.

Prefontaine,
shown here last spring

smashing the high school
two-mile record

by an amazing 7 seconds
at 8:41.6...

Oh! Damn it,
Bill, not again!

I promised the kids waffles
for Sunday brunch.

Barbara, the kids are
over 25, as I recollect.

Maybe they won't be traumatized

if you serve them pancakes.

These chemicals are
simply overwhelming.

They can't be good for you.
What are you watching?

A kid from Coos Bay
that Dellinger recruited.

Pretty impressive, isn't he?

Well,
he's a front-runner,

and he may get away
with it in high school,

but at the international level
of competition, it's a disaster.

Well...
Tell him not to do it.

Isn't that what coaching is for?

Yes, dear.

Last spring, Prefontaine smashed

the national high school
two-mile record

by an amazing 7 seconds.

Steve, those Stanford
3-milers are no slouches,

especially that fellow Kardong.

Don Kardong?
Well, he's not bad.

It takes 8% more energy
to lead than to follow.

Front-runners cut the wind
for everybody behind them

and then die in the stretch.

In a close race,
a front-runner never wins.

Well, he's not that good,
either, Bill.

Ok, I'm gonna want it up
against the windows.

What are you trying to do? Help him out?
Give him a handicap?

No! I hate those people
back there sucking on me.

Then why do you let them?

Bill, when you set the pace,
you control the race.

And the hare controls the hound.

Indulge me here, would you?

Saturday...

Start off easy
for once in your life.

69s for the first mile.

Then drop to 67s for the second,

and then, depending on where
you are and how you feel--

Well, I won't know that
till I get there, Bill,

and I'll figure it out then.

While you're doing that, why
don't you also try to figure out

what university you expect
to be running for next week.

Bill, has it ever occurred to
you that there's such a thing

as over-coaching?

Yeah. I'm against it.

Shut up, Mac.

Is there any
particular plan here--

Steve going out fast,
burning Kardong early?

Steve's going out in 69,
no faster.

All right, runners, gather in
here for your instructions.

I'd like you to stand
one stride behind the line.

The commands will be "runners
to your marks" and "set."

Then I'll shoot the gun.
Good luck to y'all.

The 3-mile is underway.

The high jump bar
has been raised to 6' 7".

Next up,
Kip Gletter of Stanford.

Prefontaine moves to
the early lead in the 3-mile.

Wow. Look at that.

Hey, check that guy over there.

It's Steve Prefontaine.

First call for
mile relay. First call...

Go, Steve!

Yeah, Prefontaine!

So you're not running the relay?

No, we're way up on them.

W-where's
everybody else?

Holy shit.

This is not a 69.

Prefontaine,
first lap--64 seconds!

Let's go check this out.

It's a record pace.

Go, Steve!

Oregon's Bob Lidell
is on the long jump runway.

Runway!

Jesus, Russ,
I'm trying to jump here!

In the 3-mile,
it's Prefontaine leading

with Don Kardong second.

4:18.

4:18?!

Steve Prefontaine's
time in the mile--4:18.

Two more,
and the Oregon freshman

will be close to
the American 3-mile record.

Two more like that, and he'll
be in sacred heart hospital.

8:45, Steve! 8:45!

8:45. He's never
been here before.

Not with another mile to go, no.

Now to the discus ring.
Our leader, Mac Wilkins.

Crowd, chanting:
Pre! Pre! Pre! Pre!

Are they saying the rube's name?

Could be.

Aw...

Mac Wilkins' last throw,
197' 6"--

a collegiate best this year.

The crowd
shouldn't be doing that.

They're only encouraging
the little showboater.

We could always try
telling them to stop.

Pre! Pre! Pre! Pre!

Prefontaine timed at 13:12.8.

That's the fastest 3-mile
in the world this year.

You all right, Bill?
What?

What are you trying to tell me?

Take your victory lap before
they tear the stadium down.

Go on!

Little rube's a performer.

Little rube's a star.

So much for coaching.

Bill, for Saturday's
goal-setting session,

make Pre
my last appointment, ok?

Come in.

I'm sorry.
I'm, uh...

Lost.

Hmm.

Well, at least you found
your way to McArthur court.

You remembered that?

Mm-hmm.

I'm Steve, uh...

Steve Prefontaine.

Mary Marckx.
Nice to meet you.

Mary, I have been
looking for you for months.

You have? Mm-hmm. Well, what
are you doing here today?

You're obviously
in the wrong room.

There was an assignment
that... Um...

I can do it later. You want
to grab a cup of coffee?

Um... Wait a minute.

What?

Look, I don't even know you.

But you just said you did.

I know I just did, but I'm...

But what?

I'm not even dressed.

Sure you are.
Come on. Come on.

What's your hurry?

I'm not.
I just love coffee.

I don't even have shoes on.

How's this one feel?

Yep.
It's fine. Good.

Don't say it if it doesn't fit.

It fits.
It fits.

Would you mind
getting off your knees?

Better?

A little.
Look, Steve, you know,

I can't allow you
to buy these shoes for me.

I mean, I don't even know you.

But I get 'em for free.

That's not my point.

Heh.

So what were you doing
at the dorm, anyway, hmm?

Go on...

Well, I told you. I had to pick
up an assignment before...

I...

I think I'm crazy
about you, Mary.

Why?

Why is anybody
crazy about anybody?

Well, I asked why
you're crazy about me.

There's just something about
you that I recognize.

Like, "haven't we met
somewhere before"--

No.

That we haven't met before,
but I feel we have.

Like you're a stranger,
but you're familiar.

Hi, Steve.

Hey, Steve, great race.
Looking good.

Thanks.

Mary?

Yeah?

So, uh... What do
you think about me?

Well... Ohh...

I don't really think
you're my type.

Ah, Pre...

There you are.

Why didn't you speak up?

I didn't want to disturb you.

Well, you like
disturbing me, Pre.

You do it so well.

Sit down.

Sit down.

Well, Pre...

It's spring.

Mm-hmm.

I sense this is your week
to chase the ladies.

Do you object to that, Bill?

No, as long as
you catch 'em quick,

because chasing 'em
wears a body out.

13:12 for a 3-mile.
Satisfied?

Satisfied I did the best I
could on Saturday. Mm-hmm.

I think you could've
gone 6 seconds better.

First quarter cost you.

How do you figure?

Well, 4:18 was too quick
for the first mile,

so you dropped to 4:27s
for the last two.

If you' gone out slower,
say, a 4:24,

you could've repeated the 4:24
and then come home in 4:18,

made your last lap your fastest.

That would've
added up to 13:06,

compared with
the 13:12 you ran.

Your need to take the lead from the
start cost you a good 6 seconds.

Uh...

Ok.

Pre, the Olympics
are in two years--

blink of an eyelash.

You'll face the best middle-distance
runners in any games I can recall.

Ian Stewart--

Yeah. Kip Keino,
Gammoudi.

They all have strong kicks.

Any one of them been
near you on Saturday,

they'd have had you
dead to rights.

Well, maybe on Saturday, Bill,

but not two years from now.

Pre, can I ask you a
question off the record?

Were we on the record, Bill?

Where does this
compulsion come from?

What compulsion?

Front-running.

Look, Bill,
running any other way...

Is just plain chickenshit.

Chickenshit?

Chickenshit.

What else do you call
laying back for 2 1/2 miles

and then stealing a race
in the last 200 yards?

Winning!

Well, I don't want to do that.

You don't want to win?

I don't want to win

unless I know I've done my best,

and the only way
I know to do that

is to run out front and flat
out till I have nothing left!

Winning any other way
is chickenshit!

What do you think
a track coach does, Pre?

He teaches you how to run.

Run what, a factory?
A bowling alley?

A race.

In order to...

Win it.

Yeah... Yeah.

Yeah, that's pretty much
what I thought, too.

I don't understand you, Pre.

Well...

If it's any help, Bill,

I don't understand you, either.

Announcer, over P.A.:
Testing, testing, testing.

On behalf of Drake University

and Des Moines,

welcome, competitors,

to the 1970 National Collegiate

Track and Field Championships...

Stick! Stick!

What do you think you're
going to throw tomorrow?

The farther the better, right?

Gentlemen!

To the gym!

Not much of a workout, Bill.

Hay's in the barn, Pre.
Any work you do today

is just taking it away
from the race tomorrow.

All right, gentlemen.

The race for team title's
going to be really tight.

The championship's going to be won
by the team that scratches and claws

for every unexpected point. So we're
going to enter the 440 relay.

Something wrong, Pre?

Pre?

No. No, I just...

Felt a little dizzy.

I keep telling you people,
this heat can fool you.

You got to stay hydrated.
Pre, go grab yourself a drink.

Sure thing, Bill.

Anybody else need a drink?

I've heard people say that...

Too much of anything
is no good for you, baby...

Wow. Ha ha.

That is some rug burn, cutie.

You got 'em on both knees?

Uh, yeah... I guess.

We got to protect
those babies, don't we?

Well... Um, we could try
using the bed.

Ohh... No.

I got a better idea.

♪ My darling I ♪

♪ can't get enough
of your love, baby... ♪

Ok. Come on.
Get over here.

Show me what you got.
Ha ha ha.

"Walk while ye have the light,
lest darkness come upon you.

For he that walketh
in darkness"--

Uh! Ha ha.
Who's that?

Shut the door!

Excuse me.

Really sorry--

Shut the door!

No!

Ha ha ha ha!
Oh, it's ok, sweetie.

You're just better on your
knees than on your hands.

Ohh...

Ooh.

Bowerman's gonna kill me.

Who?

How the hell did this happen?

I was asleep, and I got
up to go to the John,

tripped over the couch,
and hit that heater.

How many stitches?

Just 6.

12.
Where were you, Bob?

Uh, I was at the, um...

Bob went to take a walk,
so... Right?

Yeah.
I was at the, uh...

Um, I was at the, um...

Is there any word on how many
entries there are in the 3-mile?

16. So what?

So there's no heats, which
means I don't have to run

until the final, which is
nearly-- it's 3 days away.

You're not serious.

Since when?

Run?
You can't even walk.

What kind of painkillers
they give you, anyways?

All right, gentlemen.
Clear out of here.

You, too, Bob.

Kiss the nationals
good-bye.

There goes the team
title, right down the toilet.

Shut the door!

Why don't you
run the 3-mile, Russ?

Bill... We need
my 10 points...

To win the nationals.

3 miles of pounding on a hard asphalt
track could tear your foot in two.

It won't.

Rube, you're in my care.

You don't know what it'll
do to my foot if I do run,

but you know what it'll do to me

if I don't.

You got to let me try, Bill.

Announcer, over P.A.:
With that win,

Steve Prefontaine has clinched
the 1970 NCAA championship

for Bill Bowerman's
Oregon ducks.

I did what I said
I was gonna do.

Well, at least I made you
work for it, Steve.

Jesus Christ!

You ran like that?

Steve, you are crazy.

Yeah.

Oh, yeah.

Uh--you don't need
to look at your time.

It was a meet record.

Get a stretcher.

Need a stretcher!

Announcer, over P.A.:
That's 17 straight races

that Steve Prefontaine has won.

Pre!

Pre! Pre! Pre!

We got tickets

to three dog night next week.
You wanna come?

Gee, I'm going to Finland
for a week. Sorry.

I'll call you when I get back.

Mary!

Mary!

Still in the shoe
business, I see.

I'm willing to give it up
whenever you say.

I told you, Steve.
You're not my type.

Her type? Her type?

What is it with that girl?

Heads up.
Heads up.

Fellas... Watch out.

Don't make me come back for you.

Why not?

What?

Why not?

Well, I'll tell you why not.

You know, you left my
roommate hung out to dry,

for one thing, Steve.

You never bothered to tell
me your date was with her.

It wasn't a nice thing
to do, and I'm sorry.

Don't apologize to me.
Apologize to her.

I will. And then
will you go out with me?

Jeez, are you
looking for rejection?

No.

How'd you get here
so quick, anyway?

Impressive, huh?
I took a shortcut.

I do workouts, uh...
Through here.

I know everything there is
to know about this place.

You're sitting
on a Civil War monument.

Yeah, right.

Take a look.

You really do
work out here, don't you?

Of course.

I wouldn't lie to you.

It's ok.

Just looking.

Ohh...
That's pretty.

Thank you.

You want to walk, don't you?

Sure.

Are you catholic?

Lots of people are.

Lots of people say they are,
but I bet you really are.

I'm not sure I understand
what you mean.

Should I be flattered
or insulted?

No, I wasn't insulting you.

It's the hardest thing in the
world to believe in something.

If you do, it's a miracle.

Ha ha.

"Modern behavior."

We can drop those by the dorm.

There's always someone trying to
talk you out of what you believe in.

Anybody, everybody...

Your own mother.

Why is that, do you think?

All I know... Is that if you
do believe in something,

you tend to make people
very, very nervous.

Ha ha ha.
Ha ha ha.

Do you believe in god?

I believe in myself.

I mean it. You're--
you're not my type.

This ends
the KVAL broadcast day.

This is KVAL, Eugene, Oregon.

What's wrong?
Mary?

Mary?

Can you say something?

Please?

Anything?

Can you talk now?

Can I get you something?
Some water or coffee?

Oh, no.

Listen, I can
tell you right now,

I certainly didn't mean
to upset you like this.

Oh, it's ok.

No, it's not ok.

Yes, it is. It wasn't you.
It's--it's me.

What do you mean?

You made me feel too much,
and I can't handle it.

No, please, please, please...

Please.

Are you ok?

How do you mean?

Guys get sick
from stopping like that,

don't they?

Yeah...

They do.

They can.

Look...

I don't think we should
see each other again.

I believe in waiting, and I'm
not going to sleep with you,

and I'm not going to change.

We'll just keep doing this
to each other over and over.

I know it's-- I know it's
stupid, and it isn't fair...

For either one of us.

So I...

Think you should go out
with other girls.

I do that already.

So keep doing it.

I'd...

Rather go out with you...

Any way we can do it.

I just don't think
we should... Uh--

Shh.

I'm going to Finland.

Will you see me when I get back?

When are you leaving?

Tomorrow...
After the workout. Hey--

Hey, think of it this way.
Maybe I'll change.

Ha. Are you always so
positive about everything?

Consider the alternative.

I do.

In other words, you plan
on being disappointed.

I'm not going to disappoint you.

Ha ha ha.

Come on.

I'll get you back to your dorm.

Ok.

Steve, voice-over: "Dear Mary, every
blond head in Finland reminds me of you,

"so I pretty much
think of you constantly--

except, of course, when
I'm pissed off about this tour."

What's he doing?

"It's run by the AAU,
the Amateur Athletic Union,

"our national governing body.

"Its head honcho, Colin Ponder,

"keeps us amateur
and uncomfortable

"while he hits on
airline stewardesses

"and goes first class
all the way.

"Any American gets caught
accepting more than

"a red-eye plane ticket,
a bad hotel, and 3 bucks a day,

"and Colin will sanction us,

"which means he calls us
professional athletes

"and kills our
Olympic eligibility.

"So-called amateurism
is the biggest,

"most hypocritical crock of
horseshit in American sports.

"We're so much worse about it
than the other countries,

"and nobody in America is worse
about it than Colin Ponder.

"On the tour bus, our new
legal eagle, Frank Shorter,

"showed Kenny and me a directive
where Colin actually ordered us

"to switch meets, when
the reason for this whole trip

was to hunt down and beat a couple of
Finns who have the best times in Europe."

We signed on to race against
Viren and Vaatinen in Oulu,

not a bunch of
pussies in Helsinki.

There's the asshole.

And what asshole is that?

Colin Ponder,

the asshole who ordered us
not to run this race.

Has he said anything
about us being here?

Not a word.

Ha ha ha.
Ha ha ha.

Prefontaine?

You have no Finnish?

Uh, speak Finnish?
No.

Uh, Francais?

Un peu.
Un peu?

Tres bien.
Nous avons un probleme.

"Frank Shorter, Kenneth
Moore, and Steve Prefontaine

"are forbidden from
running in Oulu.

They are required
to run in Helsinki."

No.

Oui.

No.
Mais oui.

Uh, we're going to run
here today in Oulu

against Vaatinen
and Viren in Oulu.

Eh, non, non.
Helsinki.

Oulu.

Helsinki.

Announcer, over P.A.:
Lasse Viren.

They're about
to start our race, ok?

So listen to me,
you bureaucratic dipshit.

We came all the way
from Eugene, Oregon,

to run against
those two guys here,

not a bunch of pussies
in Helsinki!

Colin Ponder did what?

He sanctioned us and
contaminated them.

Anyone who runs
against us will lose

their international eligibility.

Oh, wonderful.

You're not god!

He's crazy.

This is not even your country!

And you don't pay taxes here,
you don't vote.

What is he talking about?
What are you talking about?

You make me ashamed
to be an American!

What are you talking about?

You don't have the right
to--to run their races

and run our lives!

You're not god,
you overbearing asshole!

Pre!

Get off me!

Pre--
Pre, calm down! Pre!

Pre!

Jesus, Pre, what the hell
are you trying to do?

Sweat.

Yeah. It wasn't hot enough
for him in Finland.

World's latest press conference.

World, here, says he's ashamed
of being an American.

Do you believe everything
you read there, Macker?

Well, what did you say?

I just said that the AAU should
have been shit-canned in 1920.

We don't need them.
They need us.

They don't need us.
They got us.

AAU's our governing body, world.

You organize against them, you
can kiss the Olympics good-bye.

Shorter found out why they
shifted us to the Helsinki meet.

Colin Ponder extracted a little
fee from the Helsinki promoter

in order to guarantee
our appearance.

How much?

Ha ha.
Tell them, Frank.

Uh, between me, Pre,
and Kenny, $10,000.

What?

And they give us $3.00 a day
for everything!

But we know that better competition
means bigger gate receipts.

So we just point out
to the foreign meet promoters

that the AAU is not only
shitty for our competition,

it's shitty
for their box office.

And money talks... Louder than the
AAU guys, and in any language.

Pretentious
little rube, isn't he?

You fuck.

I can't believe
you would sit back there,

not say anything, and then be
that dismissive about this!

I've been battling those freeloaders
all your life and then some, Pre,

and guess what.

You and the AAU
have a lot in common.

Oh, bullshit!

In what way?

Resistance to change.

They don't want to stop
shitting on you

any more than you want
to change the way you run,

'cause it hurts to change.
Doesn't it, Pre?

I wouldn't know.

Aah!

Doesn't it hurt to change?

What are Viren's
chances against me?

Your long-term goal's
still the '72 Olympics?

Yes, my long-term goal's
still the '72 Olympics.

What's the second guy, Vaatinen?

I like your shirt.

Go, Pre.

He's really finding out about

his strengths
and weaknesses now,

and he's run the rest
into oblivion.

Crowd, chanting:
Pre! Pre! Pre! Pre!

You don't really believe
you can do anything.

Absolutely.

Fly a plane?

Well, sure, if I wanted.

You read the manual,
get the best teacher,

and take off.

Steve, not everything
can be learned.

I mean, some things take talent.

Whoa.

Let me tell you something.

Talent is a myth, Mary.

There's a dozen guys on the team

with more talent in
their little finger.

Then how come you can beat them?

A little secret I learned
a long time ago.

In Coos Bay.
In the woods.

So what's your little secret?

Oh...

The one you learned
a long time ago?

I can endure more pain

than anyone you've ever met.

That's why...

I can beat anyone I've ever met.

You don't believe me?

I do.

Steve...

What happens if you
don't win in Munich?

Hey, hey.

Uh-uh.

That's just not possible.

Hey...

Where the hell
did you come from?

Steve, that's a terrible
way to greet someone,

especially
Mr. Bowerman.

Not bad, rube. Steak
on food stamps?

Barbecued catfish.

Would you like to stay?

Hmm?

No, thank you, Mary.

I'd just like a word or two
with your friend here.

Go on.

Go on.

What's going on, Bill?

George Young is in town.

So?

So, he holds the world's
record for two miles, Pre.

Well, I think we're running the
5,000 at the trials, Bill.

What, you don't think
I can beat George Young?

He has one hell of
a finishing kick.

And you're not going to run
away from George Young--

not by running out
in front, flat-out.

Oh, shit.

We're back to
front-running again?

Nothing would please
George Young more...

Or a crowd.

You'd be giving the crowd
the performance they want

and him the one he expects.

Well, you can call the race
any goddamned thing you want,

but I wouldn't call it
a performance.

What would you call it?

A work of art.

If you can't beat George Young,

you can't win at Munich.

Beating George Young is gonna
take some kind of time.

Ok, what kind of time?

13:23.

13:23?

That's 7 seconds faster
than the American record,

my American record.

Your American record.

How do I do that?

Bowerman, voice-over:
You wear him out...

Sending series, negative splits.

Prefontaine's
lap time, 65 seconds.

Gradually, go a little faster

than he thinks he's going.

By the time he realizes
what's happening,

he won't have enough left
to hurt you.

Prefontaine's time
for that lap, 64 seconds.

Prefontaine's lap time,
63 seconds.

Pre! Pre! Pre!

Steve
Prefontaine and George Young

have broken away from the field.

That means that Prefontaine
will make his first Olympic team

and George Young
will make his fourth

as the top 3 finishers
will be going to Munich.

62 seconds.

It's not enough for
Prefontaine to simply qualify.

He has been gradually
increasing the pace.

He is trying to run away
from George Young.

Now less than two laps to go,

it is Prefontaine a stride
out in front of George Young,

and they have broken away
from the pack.

Pre's lap time...

59 seconds.

Cranking it up,

and now he's building a lead,
the strategy is working.

Prefontaine has broken
George Young.

In front of this sell-out crowd

at Hayward Field
in Eugene, Oregon,

they're on their feet cheering
the hometown favorite,

and he is running away
from George Young.

Steve Prefontaine
wins the Olympic trials

and qualifies for his first
Olympic game.

Way to go, man.
Way to go.

And Steve Prefontaine sets
a new American record

of 13:22.8.

Steve Prefontaine's time
of 13:22.8

is a new American record
by 8 seconds.

Go down the hall
and up the stairs!

6, 7, 8...

What happened to security
on these elevators?

We removed them.
Not necessary.

Really?

Yes, finished.

Not necessary?

Bill?

Call the American embassy

and get a pair of marine guards on
these elevators around the clock,

no matter what.

Bill, that might
offend the Germans.

Piss off the Olympic committee,

don't you think?

Let them be offended.

It's easier to beg forgiveness
than ask permission.

Hey, what's going on?

We don't know.

I can't even get the TV to work.

Gentlemen...

It appears some Arab gunmen

have taken over
the Israeli compound.

We're waiting for
more information.

In the meantime, our quarters
have been sealed off,

so clear off the balcony

and stay put until
further notice.

Golda Meir just requested
that the games be suspended.

Well, what's the point
in competing now, anyway?

Wait a minute,
wait a minute, shh...

He said the hostages
are going to be released

in exchange for a plane
for the terrorists.

It's over.
That's it.

Thank god.

Hey, I'm hitting the sack.

Guys, what time
do we get up, please?

8:30.

About 8:30?

Get some sleep.

Oh, sorry...

I--I had to clean up
the place.

It was a mess.

Gotta go to bed now.

The German police tried
an ambush at the airport.

All the Israelis
have been killed.

I'm sorry.

This killing of Israeli athletes
is an act of war.

And if there's one place
that war doesn't belong...

It's here.

For 1,200 years--

from 776 B.C. To 393 A.D.,

your fellow Olympians laid down their
arms to take part in these games.

They understood there was more
honor in outrunning a man...

Than in killing him.

I hope the competition
will resume.

And if it does...

You must not think that running
or throwing or jumping

is frivolous.

The games were once your fellow
Olympians' answer to war.

Competition...

Not conquest.

Now...

They must be your answer.

David Bedford...

Ian Stewart...

Julia Vaatinen...

Mohammed Gammoudi...

Lasse Viren...

Emiel Puttemans...

Harold Norpoch...

Steve Prefontaine.

13 runners
in this Olympic final...

Is the plan the same
as the trials?

Conserve the first two miles.

Go hard the last one.

Watch out for Gammoudi.

Why? What's
Gammoudi do?

Elbows.

Halle of Norway next,

Viren of Finland, the Olympic
10,000-meter champion

and world record holder.

Earlier, when I talked
to both Stewart and Prefontaine,

I asked them how they thought
the race might unfold.

I'd like to work it out
so that in the end,

it comes down to
a pure guts race.

If it is, I'm the only one
who can win it.

12 1/2 laps of the track.

McCafferty coming across
from the outside,

it's Norpoch on the inside, Ian
Stewart there for Great Britain...

Lasse Viren,
one of the strong favorites,

just tucks himself
into last place,

and the American
Steve Prefontaine

is running in the middle
of the pack.

But at this point,
Charlie, everyone's bunched together

because the pace is pedestrian.

So this is very slow in fact.

They've jogged half a lap, and
McCafferty leading for Great Britain.

But no one can afford
to allow this to go on

until the later stages
of the race

because everyone fears the blistering
finish of the European champion

number 225, Vaatinen,
the blonde Finn.

It's McCafferty
and Norpoch together...

Ian Stewart on the outside,

Eisenberg of East Germany and
Prefontaine together, fourth and fifth.

The first lap--
Very, very slow.

Still the race
hasn't really started.

Tripping over themselves

in their anxiety
to find a position...

No athletes study each
other like distance runners,

so they'll try to be stoic...

Mary? Mary?

Fine.

It's as if he takes
the pain personally,

is offended by it.

Well, Vaatinen
must be loving this.

The strain on these runners, waiting,
waiting, and waiting for somebody to break

must really be appalling,

and the cracking point
will surely come soon.

Vaatinen with
a blistering finish,

just like the Duke of Bassetoro
leading from behind.

Who's the Duke of Bassetoro?

Jesus, Mac, who gives a shit?

And surely
somewhere, someone must go.

Pre's ready to,
but he's trapped.

Time at 3 kilometers is 8:20.2.

They're 150 yards slower

than Ron Clarke when
he set his world record.

The suspense must be appalling
among those

who haven't total confidence
in their sprinting ability.

Sviridov the Russian
going in front for the second time.

All that pushing
as they all try to cover...

And it's not
a significant change of pace.

But it's given Pre his opening!

Prefontaine coming through...

So the American now committed.

Really burning for
a middle-distance runner.

Cocky American, really--
Believes in himself utterly.

There goes Pre.

Maybe this is the race.

Steve Prefontaine
of the United States

has taken the lead,

Ian Stewart comes
right behind him,

and then it is Bedford.

Prefontaine, another
athlete who can't leave it late,

a long-distance driver, really,

who's got to go from
home to winning.

And this is surely being left
to the fastest miler.

Prefontaine believes it's him.

Now we'll see.

Prefontaine didn't exactly

keep his prerace plans
secret, Charlie.

He's begun a mile-long drive to break
the best runners in the world.

The American in front--

almost a cult
in the United States,

he's a sort of athletic Beatle.

There are t-shirts around,
"go Pre."

Can anyone
hold the lead that long?

I don't know.

It's the toughest way
to win there is.

He's burning more energy
than anyone else out there.

The race for
the gold medal starts here.

Prefontaine leads.

The Europeans say that he hasn't
really been in a war yet,

but this boy's got utter belief
in himself.

And he's inexperienced
enough in many ways

not to know how good
the others are.

As they come up on two to go,

Viren, who's a similar runner
to Prefontaine,

states his intention now.

It's fine.

Pre can draft on Viren
and recharge for one last move.

A lap and 3/4 left.

And they really have left this
one for the fastest finisher.

Viren, the world record holder
at 10,000 meters,

the gold medalist,
already leads.

Viren--there's been a certainty about
his running in the past 6 weeks.

It's almost made winning
seem inevitable.

Viren takes the lead.

Coaches will usually tell you
you have one chance at the lead.

Prefontaine has to
beat the odds,

he has to stay with Viren.

He's got the turn and the lead.

Prefontaine is in front
for the second time.

Come on, Steve!

The chunky
American, driving for home.

Viren following,

and Ian Stewart,
now coming Gammoudi.

Gammoudi comes third,
and here comes Ian Stewart now.

The 3 medals
are between these 5 men.

What price has he paid?

A tremendous price, Charlie.

But his strategy is now obvious.

He wants to be the last man
on his feet at the end.

Steve has said before, "there may
be men out there who can beat me,

but they're going to have to
bleed to do it."

This time the bell.

Lasse Viren now moves up

and challenges Prefontaine.

And he's going by,
and at this point,

one lap to go,
instincts take over.

Viren's gone too soon.
Pre can hang and wait.

Round the bend
and into that back straight,

a long straight they're facing for
the last time in this the final lap.

...Strategy in this last lap,

but it's just gonna be more of
who can survive

this 4-lap from
the finish run

by Steve Prefontaine.

Gammoudi.
He's going for the win.

Prefontaine goes by.

He has to get by
before the turn.

And the
American attacks on the outside,

but Gammoudi responds.
Viren there,

at least 3 now.

7, 8 meters
clear of Viren's charge,

and these are the medal men.

200 meters left.
The champion Gammoudi leads.

Viren moves up inside
Prefontaine.

The Finn and the American
gathering for the final attack.

He can't do it!

Lasse Viren
challenging Prefontaine

from the inside.

As they now come off the turn,
Gammoudi has the lead,

and here comes Viren.

And they're
all running at top end.

There are no more gears,
Charlie.

This is as fast as
these men can go.

Off with the final turn,
100 meters to go.

Lasse Viren has taken the lead.

Viren goes for home,

Gammoudi is bankrupt,

so, too, is Prefontaine.

And the Finn goes in now
for his second gold medal,

and Stewart with a late run!

The Finn wins. Gammoudi second.
Stewart gets the bronze!

Prefontaine dies
in the final stride... Fourth.

Vaatinen's fifth,
Norpoch's sixth,

Halle of Norway seventh.

He ran his last mile
in 4:04.

What more could he have done?

Prefontaine endured
a slow, early pace,

and he made all those moves.

With a mile to go,
with 600, with 300,

and Viren took everything
he threw at him and still won.

Two outstanding efforts.

One man made the race,
and another man won it.

But it was really
a great race...

Mary, when you see Steve,
congratulate him for me.

He ran one of the greatest
races I've ever seen.

Lasse Viren is
a deserving champion.

♪ Come down off your throne ♪

♪ and leave your body alone ♪

♪ somebody must change ♪

♪ you are the reason
I've been waiting so long... ♪

And the Finn goes
in now for his second gold medal,

and Stewart with a late run!

The Finn wins. Gammoudi second.
Stewart gets the bronze!

Prefontaine dies
in the final stride...

♪ can't find my way home... ♪

Hey, Lobo.
How about a quick--

This is Lobo.

You don't answer
your phone anymore.

You want some food?
Come on, right here.

Come on.

Care to come in?

I gotta get ready for work.

So where are you working?

The pad.

Why, what's wrong with that?

Oh, nothing.

That didn't look
like nothing, Mary.

I'm not here to fight, Steve.

Sorry.

Why are you here?

Your pictures
and your awards--

There's nothing about
you here anymore.

Honey, you were great in Munich.

Uh-uh.

Viren was great.
I was fourth.

You can beat Viren.

Really?
Who told you that?

You did, Steve.

Well, I guess you shouldn't
believe everything you hear.

I'll walk you out.

Sure. Why not?

Hey, how you doing?
How are you?

Why is everyone
standing around here?

Hey!
Hey!

Two buds.

Two buds.

Who else needs something?

Jesus.

Bill, what brings you by?

Same as everybody else.

Excuse me.

I heard Steve Prefontaine
was working here.

Oh, yeah?

Well, I'm told he prefers it
to living on food stamps.

Yeah, but do you have to put
your picture on the wall?

Shit.

Hey, will you cover for me?

You want to meet me out back?

I need the sugar here, tom.

Hey, where's our beers?

What is this?
I gotta make a living.

Nobody in Oregon can influence
kids more than you can, Pre,

so get yourself another job.

One that will pay the rent

and let me compete
with foreign athletes

who don't have to work
anywhere but on the track?

I haven't noticed you
working out all that much.

You know the greatest race
I ever saw you run?

Munich.

I was never prouder of anything
than the effort you made that day.

You couldn't have done
more than you did.

Bill, I--

Rube, you won
the trials in 13:22.

5 seconds faster
than Viren at Munich.

That would have beaten
him by 30 yards.

It's hard to believe you
never even thought about it.

Ok, so, if I'd
have gone out faster,

I wouldn't have gotten boxed...

Well, then blame me.

Do you blame yourself?

That's a constant, Pre.

At your level of competition,

anyone can win on any given day

and not necessarily
the best man.

Losing a race isn't
your problem, Pre.

Front-running isn't
your problem.

Ok, so what's my problem, Bill?

Vanity.

Vanity?

Your insistence that you have no
talent is the ultimate vanity.

If you have no talent,
you have no limits.

It's all an act
of will, right Pre?

I couldn't do
what I thought I could.

Can we just leave it at that?

I got news for you.

All the will and work
in the world

isn't going to get one person in
a million to run a 3:54 mile.

That takes talent,

and talent in a runner is tied to
very specific physical attributes.

Your heart can probably pump more blood
than anyone else's on this planet,

and that's the fuel
for your talent.

Your bones in your feet-- it would
take a sledgehammer to hurt them,

and that's the foundation
of your talent.

So your talent, Pre, is not
some disembodied act of will.

It's literally in your bones,
so it's got its limits.

Be thankful for your limits,

they're about as limitless
as they get in this life.

Goodnight.

J-j-just a minute.

Bill, just a fucking minute.

Do you really believe that you know
everything there is to know about me?

Does it ever occur to you that I might know
something about myself that you don't?

You vain, inflexible
son of a bitch.

You don't know me any better
than you know yourself.

And you're never going
to change you, Bill.

Men of Oregon,

I invite you to become
students of your events.

Running, one might say,
is basically an absurd pastime

upon which to be
exhausting ourselves--

Gentlemen, if I'm boring you...

I'm sorry, Bill, I just--I
didn't mean to interrupt.

I was just wondering if, uh...

I wanted to ask
if you wouldn't mind

if I worked out with the team.

You're always welcome here, Pre.

Gentlemen...

If you can find meaning
in the kind of running

you have to do
to stay on this team,

chances are you'll be able to find meaning
in that other absurd pastime: Life.

For the time being, let's not
have you working out with the team.

You'll be facing Viren all over
again at the Montreal Olympics.

I don't want you
racing anyone now.

I just want you running.

Now to explore the limits
of the one competitor

above everyone else
you've always loved to face:

Steve Prefontaine.

Steve, voice-over: "Dear Mary,
well it's the first day of spring.

"Munich seems a lot
more than 6 months ago,

and you're on my mind
an awful lot."

"Sometimes I feel I'll choke on all
the things that I want to say.

"I nearly did talk to you
yesterday, but you looked busy.

"The trouble is, since Munich
I've hated myself too much

"to feel like I can say anything
to someone I love.

I'm running against Shorter
in the restoration,

"the race at Hayward Field to raise money
to keep the old place from falling apart.

It is, after all,
my second home. Steve."

I'd like to ask you something.

Ok.

It's, uh, personal.

Sit down.

How do you and Barbara--

How do you and Barbara-- you pretty
much believe in the same things?

Huh. God.
Pre, I have no idea.

That woman's
a complete mystery to me.

Well, how do you
get along so well?

I don't have to know what she believes in.
I believe in her.

Ok.

You're easily pleased,
I must say.

Did I ever tell you I liked
what you had to say

about using those foreign meet
promoters to combat the AAU?

That's not a bad idea.

You all set for tomorrow?

Yeah, sure.

No sweat.

Ah.

And
representing Oregon international,

Eugene's favorite Norwegian,
Arne Kvalheim.

Pac-8 champion,
former Stanford star,

his 7th visit to
Hayward Field, Don Kardong.

Former world record holder
for 6 miles...

Gerry Lindgren.

Hey, Steve.

I've been kidding myself, Kenny.

What are you talking about?

I can't run with
these guys anymore.

Shorter, Lindgren, Kardong,
they're going to hand me my head.

A graduate of Yale,
gold medalist in the Olympic marathon,

American record holder
at 10,000 meters, Frank Shorter.

Ladies and gentlemen... Pre.

Pre! Pre! Pre!

I think that's you.

Pre now moving
to the front again.

Two leaders battling the wind.

Kardong running third.

Shorter again takes the lead
as the runners continue...

Teamwork?

Yeah, well it's so windy
out, Frank agreed

to swap the lead with Steve
every other lap, you know.

Share the work,
draft off each other.

What?

Pre moves to the
lead ahead of Frank Shorter.

Shorter again takes the lead
as the two runners...

He's doing it.

...exchange leads
every two laps.

Once again, Pre takes the lead.

Ok, now Frank's going to
take the lead right here,

and then the last lap will
be every man for himself.

Kardong, third.

Come on.
Come on!

Dammit, Frank should
have taken the lead,

and he's not doing it.

There's no way that Steve can fight
the wind for another two laps.

In the 3-mile,
Pre continues to lead.

Frank Shorter, second;
Kardong, third.

With 300 yards to go, Shorter
making a strong move to the lead.

Frank Shorter pulling
away from the field.

It's Frank Shorter by 10 yards.

Great, Munich all over again.

Prefontaine the
winner, followed by Shorter.

Yes!

12:51.4--
A new American record.

Third fastest
3-mile ever run.

Finishing third, Don Kardong
has run under 13 minutes

for the first time ever.

Under 13.
Isn't that a be-all?

Yeah.

Congratulations.

Hey, rube...
Want some lemonade?

No.

They've offered me
$200,000 to turn pro.

What do you think I should do?

Well, I'm not going to
tell you to turn it down,

not with what that money
could do for you...

And your family.

No Montreal, obviously.

No Olympics, period.

Where the hell did
these come from?

Aha. They're yours.
The rubber spikes.

That seam's gone.

Took that out for you.

Well, they're made
from your last.

You should try them on.

Stand up on them.

They fit all right.

How do they feel?

Hmm?

Uh...

Can you excuse me
a minute, Bill.

I'm sorry, Bill,
I ran up to the quarry.

I forgot about the time.

How'd you like them?

You know me, Bill. I've always
been kind of an Adidas freak,

but they're not bad.

Not bad.

Yeah, you think you could
make me a couple pair?

What the hell for?

Montreal.

Yeah.

Yeah, I think I could
probably manage a couple.

I'll never understand you, Pre.

Who the hell says you have to?

Yeah.

What are all
these cut-outs for?

Kind of my trademark.

Stands for Nike, the
goddess of victory.

Nike?

Yeah, Greek.

I like it.

How are you doing?

Good to see you.

Pre...

Got the beer right there.

You gotta get me
out of here early.

I'm dying, my jaw is throbbing.

Why?

My wisdom teeth were
extracted 5 days ago.

Oh, right...

You exploded
out there today, man.

Thanks a million.
I appreciate it.

I need to talk to you.

I'm right here.

Well, wait for me.

So, Pre, I'm ready if you are.

I feel for you, Frank, I'm sorry.
I gotta find...

I don't want your sympathy.

I want a ride home.

Ok, one second.

Believe it or not, I've been
looking for you everywhere.

Can you wait a sec?

I do want to talk to you.
I'll be right back.

Pre, please don't
leave without me.

Jesus, Frank, a little
privacy, please.

Pre, I'm dying here.
You gotta take me home.

You can always
come back, you know.

I will be right back.

I'm not going to let you go.

Let's go, come on.

Good evening, Mary.

Good evening, Frank.

So, Frank,

I've made a decision.

In the next 3 weeks,

I'm going to break
the world record

in the 3-mile
by 12 seconds.

Yeah, no kidding.

You want to guess how?

No, I can't.
I can't, Steve.

Sure you can.

I have no idea.

Give it a try. Give it
the old college try.

I have no idea. Honest
to god, I can't guess.

All right, I'll tell you.

Twelve 63-second
quarters.

That's 12:36, 12 seconds
faster than 12:48

how about that?

All right, thanks, Pre.

Mm-hmm.

Oh, so what time tomorrow?

Remember we're going
to run an easy 10?

We'll see.

10:00?

I said, "we'll see."

63 seconds per quarter
for 12 quarters is 12:36.

12:36, Steve Prefontaine,
world record.

63 seconds... Boom!
First quarter.

2:06... Boom!
Second quarter.

3:09... Boom!
Third quarter.

8:24 for two miles.

Boom!

9:27 for 9...
Boom!

10:30 for 10...
Boom!

Oh, he's holding on...

11:33. One lap to go.

He's holding on.
He's holding on.

He sees it in front of him.

11:33. He's got
one lap to go.

He's got one lap to go.

He's on world record pace.

200 meters to go,
Steve Prefontaine--

Whoa!

No!

♪ 'cause I think
it's gonna be a long long time ♪

Yeah.

In Eugene, Oregon,

one of America's best hopes
for the 1976 Olympics,

long-distance runner
Steve Prefontaine, is dead.

Steve Prefontaine,
America's leading long-distance runner,

was killed last night in a car
accident in Eugene, Oregon.

Just hours before his death,
the 1972 Olympic runner

had taken part in an informal
meet at the University of Oregon,

where, during his career, he set records
in almost every long-distance event.

Around midnight,
according to police,

he was driving alone
in his sports convertible.

He was 24.

Pre did
everything on a track--

just about everything on a
track-- that a runner can do.

One thing that Pre cherished the
most in the world he never got.

That was the world
record at 3 miles.

The last thing
that Pre said to me,

was that the next time
he'd run 3 miles,

he'd do it in
12 minutes and 36 seconds,

beating the existing
world record by 12 seconds.

We're timing the eulogy.

We'll deliver it in
12 minutes and 36 seconds,

and then we'll stop the clock,

and as far as we're concerned,
Pre will have his record.

All my life, man and boy,

I've operated under
the assumption that

the main idea in running
was to win the damn race.

Actually, when I became a coach, I
tried to teach people how to do that.

I tried to teach Pre
how to do that.

I tried like hell
to teach Pre to do that,

and Pre taught me,

taught me I was wrong.

Pre, you see, was troubled by knowing
that a mediocre effort can win a race,

and a magnificent effort
can lose one.

Winning a race wouldn't
necessarily demand

that he give it everything
he had from start to finish.

He never ran any other way.

I tried to get him to.

God knows I tried,

but Pre was stubborn.

He insisted on holding himself to
a higher standard than victory.

"A race is a work of art."

That's what he said.
That's what he believed.

And he was out to make it one
every step of the way.

Of course, he wanted to win.

Those who saw him compete and
those who competed against him

were never in any doubt
about how much he wanted to win.

But how he won
mattered to him more.

Pre thought I was a hard case,

but he finally got it
through my head

that the real purpose of running
isn't to win a race.

It's to test the limits
of the human heart,

and that he did.

Nobody did it more often...

Nobody did it better...

Go Pre!

Pre! Pre! Pre!

Bowerman, voice-over: And we stopped the
clock at 12 minutes and 36 seconds,

a world record time

with which Steve Prefontaine
would have been well satisfied.

Captioning made possible by
Warner bros.

Captioning performed by the
national captioning institute, inc.