Not even the flu could keep Sara Mae Berman from being part of history
It was her fourth Boston Marathon and Sara Mae knew it probably wouldn't be her best. Her temperature hadn't broken 100 degrees yet, but she felt lousy. She felt telltale aches and fatigue. She was getting the flu. But to sit this race out was unimaginable. After three years of racing in the marathon, this was the first time she was officially registered—the first time there would be an official women's field.
Sara Mae Berman was the first woman to cross the Boston Marathon finish line in 1969, 1970 and 1971. Then, she became one of the first eight women to officially race in 1972, sporting bib F1 upon her shirt. Berman is part of a cohort of women who ushered in the modern era of athletic competition and equality of opportunity in distance running, an era that champions perseverance and physical achievement over barriers like gender, background, and cultural stigma.
Her racing career started with an innocuous question from her husband, Larry, who noticed her frustration as they raised two toddlers only 15 months apart. "Are you happy with the shape you're in?" he asked. Sara Mae decided she wasn't.
Larry had run competitively at MIT. He and Sara Mae started training together at his alma mater's track. The toddlers played on the sideline while their parents ran laps. When Sara Mae ran two miles consecutively, she figured she was finished. "Now, do it faster!" Larry urged. Sara Mae increased her mileage and started running local road races. She couldn't register, but organizers couldn't kick her of public streets. The other runners, all male, were encouraging. She became a familiar face to race officials who noted her progress.
By the time she was at the starting line for the Boston Marathon in 1969, Jock Semple and other B.A.A. officials trusted her. They knew she could run the distance. They knew she had done the training. They weren’t worried she would pull a publicity stunt, so they didn’t try to kick her of the course.
“If they were mean, I may have had a different attitude to the sport,” said Sara Mae. “But long-distance runners appreciate each other’s training.”
Although she had run the distance many times before, the race in 1972 felt different. She had a bib, she had a place to change and a bathroom, and so did the other women who proved they could go the distance. "It was nice to finally be recognized," she said.
So she ran with the flu. Though she ran her worst time and gave up her champion position to Nina Kuscsik, she ran for something bigger than herself. She ran to celebrate the future of women runners in Boston and beyond.
Reported by Eliza Billingham. Eliza Billingham is a graduate student at Boston University with a passion for women in sports.