Interview: Bob Kennedy

by Steve Holman

Bob Kennedy, the American record holder of the 3,000 meters and 5,000 meters, announced his retirement from competitive running earlier this year. In a world-class career that spanned more than a decade, Kennedy made the 1992 and 1996 Olympic teams, competing in the 5,000 meters and placing sixth in 1996. He has won four national titles at the 5,000 meter distance and was the first non-African to break 13:00 for 5,000 meters.

Kennedy’s PRs include 3:56.21 for the mile, 7:30.84 for 3,000 meters, 12:58.21 for 5,000 meters and 27:37.45 for 10,000 meters. He attempted one marathon, the 2004 ING New York City Marathon, which he dropped out of. He won four NCAA titles before graduating from Indiana University in 1992, and was on the U.S. team that won a bronze medal at the 2001 World Cross Country Championships.

Kennedy is the co-owner of The Running Company, which has three stores in the Indianapolis area. His wife, Melina, gave birth to twins last winter.

MensRacing.com: There was a decent interval of time between your last professional race and your retirement announcement. What was going on during that period?
Bob Kennedy: I was very disappointed with the result of the New York City Marathon in 2004, but I really enjoyed the process of training for the marathon. I knew that another go-round would produce good results in my next marathon, but at the time Melina was seven months pregnant with our twins. I came to an agreement with myself that I would effectively take the next six to nine months off to adjust to fatherhood, help out with the twins—meaning not much sleep—and really take a breath of life outside of running.

At IU, at the end of every track season, Coach [Sam] Bell would say to me, “I’ll see you back in my office when you feel like running again.” Ever since then, I have stuck with that philosophy of how long a break should be. Every year I would take two weeks, three weeks and sometimes four weeks of no running. At some point during that break period, I would start to get antsy. I would start jogging, then start running twice a day again. Then there would almost be a moment of clarity when my body and mind came to an agreement that enough was enough, and it was time to get into it again. That is when I started “training.”

That moment of clarity never came this year. I had a few appearances during the year that required me to be away from home for three or four days. All I really wanted to do was get home to see my kids; I realized that there was no way that I could train at the same level that I had in the past. My days of being away from home for five or six months out of the year were over, and as a result, so were my days of competing at the highest levels.

MR: It’s like you’re an athlete most of your life, then there’s a weird hazy period, then all of a sudden you wake up and you realize you’re not a professional athlete any more. My theory is that retirement for a professional athlete is in many ways just like mourning the death of a loved one. To come to terms with retirement, everyone has to go through the five stages of grief—denial, anger, bargaining, sadness and, eventually, acceptance. I personally spent a fair amount of time in the anger stage, as I thought back about all of the things I could have achieved, but never did.

The corollary to this theory that I just made up five minutes ago is that unless an athlete really gets to acceptance, a comeback is always possible. Do you think you have gone through this process?
BK: If your theory is true, I would say probably yes. Although I performed well off and on for the past few years, I never quite could get the consistency I had been known for and expected from myself, and experienced denial, anger and bargaining throughout this time. I definitely went through the stage of sadness, but not for a prolonged period of time. I would see something like a video of me running in Atlanta in 1996 at a camp or clinic I was speaking at, and it would make me sad, because I knew that would never happen for me again. But that tended to be a fleeting feeling.

An interesting thing happened, though, when Melina and I read the article in the Indianapolis Star announcing my retirement. We read it together, looked up and both started to cry—tears of sadness and joy. Only she and I truly know all the blood, sweat and tears of the last 16 years—the great moments and the really tough times, each and every one of them a shared experience, and each and every one of them 100 percent worth it.

Acceptance is easy for me, because I feel I have so much going on for me outside of running—a great wife and kids, a thriving business, great friends, and on and on. I guarantee there will be no comeback!

MR: Your relationship with Melina is remarkable and admirable, not only because you have been together since your freshman year in college, and not just because for years she patiently put up with the demands and the separation that is part of the sport, but also because she wasn’t exactly sitting home baking apple pies and waiting for you to call home. She has been a very successful lawyer, and is about to run for political office.
BK: You know how hard it was with our lifestyles to maintain a relationship with a significant other. It takes willingness on both sides to make a strong commitment—a consistent commitment over a long period of time. Without her support and willingness to allow me to do what I felt I needed to do, I know without a doubt that I wouldn’t have been as successful. When I was running, I never had to expend emotional energy worrying about what was going on at home—which, frankly, was not the case for a lot of guys, who spent a lot of time dealing with spouses or girlfriends who couldn’t handle the distance and time away from home.

So, now that my wife is running for office [prosecutor for Marion County, which includes the Indianapolis metro area], there is a role reversal of sorts because of the extensive time commitment on her part for the campaign. I wouldn’t say that I’m “repaying a debt,” but I have committed to being there for her emotionally, as well as physically, taking up the slack in taking care of the kids, etc. I’m doing it because she did it for me, I like spending time with my kids and also because Melina would be a spectacular asset to the Indianapolis community. I’ll do anything I can do to make that happen.

MR: Thinking back to your prime 5,000-meter years in the mid 90s, I remember there was such a dramatic shift in the event in a relatively short period of time. Starting in ’95 or so, the world record went from just under 13 minutes to 12:40 by ’97. And it wasn’t just a couple of guys up front, it is was everyone, like instantly the entire 5K paradigm shifted 10 to 15 seconds faster. Look at the all-time list even today—a lot of the times from 95-97 still hold up.

Obviously, I think it is fair to say that we are both suspicious of many of those performances, but doping couldn’t have been the only stimulus. After all, I would stake my life on the fact that you were clean, as well as all of our sub-12:50 Kenyan training partners. So, what do you think was going on back then, and do you think this trend helped you or hurt you more, from a competitive and/or financial standpoint?
BK: That’s a tough one. Really, 5,000-meter running in the mid 90s is all I know. I don’t have much to compare it to. I remember sitting in Coach Bell’s office after the 1994 track season. I had run 13:05 and 13:02 that summer, and was ranked #4 in the world. Coach and I talked about having a goal to break the world record in 1996 and making a run at a medal in Atlanta. At the time of that conversation, Said Aouita held the world record of 12:58 and change. After the 1996 season, I had broken Aouita’s record, but so did a few other guys by much more than I did.

I really give a lot of credit to the performances of this time period to [agent and coach] Kim McDonald. In 1992, Kim got a hold of a young Moses Kiptanui, who did not run in the Olympics that year for Kenya, but came out and broke world records in the steeplechase and 3,000 M, and almost in the 5K. Kim was able to channel the awesome raw talent and aggressiveness that Kiptanui had, and set very high standards and expectations for him. This style of training and racing worked for Moses and attracted more Kenyan talent to this camp, guys like Paul Koech, Tom Nyariki, Daniel Komen, Paul Bitok, and on and on....

When I joined this group, my expectations were raised tremendously, and we trained hard! Kim carried this attitude over to racing. He set very high targets and expectations for races. We would go to a small meet with our group, and instead of just going through the motions, we would be running at world record pace. Kim would say stuff like, “In a perfect world, you’ll be through 3,000m in 7:40.” I’m sure you remember comments like that from him.

I truly believe this aggressive style of running 5,000 meters really changed the event forever. As a result, everyone had to step up their game. Along came other African runners [not coached by McDonald] who were awesomely talented—Geb, Tergat. They had to run this way or else they would not be competitive.

I honestly believe when Kim died that the depth of performances declined because he wasn’t there pushing these guys all the time. There are still spectacular performances, but possibly not as deep as the mid 90s.

MR: Kim would never give you target times for workouts, so over time you had to learn what his expectations were for each interval. And what you learned quickly was that his expectations far exceeded what you or others would normally think you could run. I remember running 1:47 for an 800 in the middle of a workout with the Kenyans, and I was walking around thinking this was just about unprecedented, and afterwards Kim was like, “I would have thought you could have run 1:46.” He was always pushing.

Obviously, Kim had a big impact on both of us as a coach and close friend. When he passed away suddenly in the fall of 2001, what did that do to your training and motivation?
BK: It definitely had a big impact, even though it wasn’t obvious to me for a while that it did. I lost that anchor that I had that kept me focused all of the time. I would talk to Kim five times a week from wherever he was in the world. And suddenly all that stopped. It was very subtle, but for a year afterwards I just sort of wandered along without any clear direction. Over time, working with Marcus [O’Sullivan] filled that gap, and got me back to a more focused approach.

MR: For whatever reason, Kim never pushed training at altitude. Is it a big regret in your career that you never went up into the mountains until late in your career?
BK: A big regret would be too strong of a description. Do I wonder if it would have helped? Sure. You would have to check the statistics, but I think I’m the only athlete to run under 13:00 for 5K who didn’t train at altitude. I went where I thought the best situation for me was at the time. And that was Kim McDonald’s group of Kenyans in [Melbourne] Australia, Palo Alto and Teddington [outside of London].

MR: Life after running—what’s next? Obviously you have your stores, parenthood and supporting Melina’s political aspirations, but have you thought specifically how you might remain engaged in the sport?
BK: Marcus and Sophia are my first priority and greatest pleasure. Everything else trickles down from there—not that I subscribe to the trickle-down theory of economics.

The Running Company is a great passion of mine now, and really is serving as a competitive outlet. I feel there are so many similarities between being a great athlete and having a great business. Both require a long-term vision; planning; daily execution over a long period of time; flexibility and so on.

From making a good living to traveling the world and meeting spectacular friends—including Melina—pretty much every opportunity I have had in my life so far has been through running. I feel fortunate and humbled by this, and also feel a great duty to give back to the sport that has given so much to me. I have done this in simple ways for some time, from speaking in central Indiana to schools, teams and clubs at no charge, to having more than repaid my scholarship to IU by donating money to help endow track scholarships there forever.

Although I don’t have a master plan to stay involved in the sport, among the things I am currently involved with are doing television commentary for the USATF cross country championships, co-chairing the local organizing committee for the 2006 and 2007 USATF outdoor championships in Indianapolis, and working with Puma to promote our sport throughout the USA at events and clinics, as well as helping Puma continue to develop great running products.

There is not much more satisfying to me than when I have my customers tell me how running has changed their life, how they have lost 50 pounds or ran a marathon even though they never thought it was possible. These individuals, through their running accomplishments, now feel that they are capable of so much more in their lives. If I can help even just a few people improve their lives through running at any level, it will be worth it.

MR: You had a longstanding relationship with Nike—they named a popular distance spike after you—and it appeared to be a very successful long-term investment by both parties. Now you are going in a different direction with Puma.
BK: I was with Nike for a long time. They were very good to me, and I have only positive things to say about the relationship. But upon retirement, I was looking for ways to remain involved with the sport, and partnering with Puma became a great opportunity for me because it combined a number of my interests—sports marketing and promotion, product development and retail store involvement.

MR: I should have thought of that. You know I pay for my running shoes now. Anyway, it’s odd to think of one’s legacy while you are in your mid 30s, but what do you want people to remember about you?
BK: My favorite memory is from the 1996 Olympics. Although I didn’t win a medal, I was proud of my performance over those four days of 5,000-meter running at the event that is the pinnacle of our sport. All I have ever asked of myself is to perform at the highest level I am capable of. And even though we can truly never know if we achieved this level, I think that I came pretty close in Atlanta.

I didn’t run for glory, I didn’t run for money—although I never walked away from a paycheck. I really ran to see how good I could be. If that mental attitude and dedication to being the best you can possibly be translates to anyone else, if I can serve as a role model in that way, I will consider myself as having a positive influence on the sport. American distance running will get better; my records will eventually be broken and that’s a good thing.

Interview conducted March 2, 2006 and posted March 7, 2006