BOSTON MARATHON RACE DIRECTOR WILL RUN HIS 50TH STRAIGHT BOSTON ON MONDAY
Dave McGillivray will cover the Hopkinton-to-Boston route after a full work day.
In his memoir, The Last Pick, Dave McGillivray laments his childhood failures in sports. He had big dreams—he wanted to play second base for the Boston Red Sox—but was judged too small, too slow, too weak to even make the youth teams. He faced rejection at every turn.
So he redoubled his efforts as an adult and discovered running. This week, as McGillivray looks forward to his 50th consecutive Boston Marathon finish, it’s hard to imagine someone who has contributed more to the road-running world. Race director. Runner and ultrarunner. Triathlete. Charity fundraiser. Healthy-heart spokesperson. McGillivray has done it all and, at age 67, is still going strong.
He’s probably best known as race director of the Boston Marathon, a position he has held under one title or another since 1988. That means he’s seen the marathon through its 100th running (1996), its Nor’easters (2007, 2018), its bombs and comebacks (2013, 2014), and its Boston-in-October running (last fall). McGillivray isn’t a Boston Athletic Association employee, but works on the marathon as an independent contractor along with his race management company, Dave McGillivray Sports Enterprises (DMSE).
His list of accomplishments and honors is too long for a full telling here, but a handful deserve notice. In 1978, he ran solo across the U.S.—3,452 miles from Medford, Oregon, to his hometown, Medford, Massachusetts—to raise money for the Jimmy Fund. Two years later, he became just the 30th individual to complete the Hawaii Ironman Triathlon, later adding eight more finishes. He once swam 24 consecutive hours in an indoor pool, covering—what else?—26.2 miles. In 2018, he tackled the World Marathon Challenge, finishing seven marathons on seven continents in seven days.
In addition to his work with the Boston Marathon, he directs Falmouth, Beach to Beacon, the Bellin 10K, and dozens of other events around the country. When COVID-19 shut down most races in 2020 and 2021, he and DMSE were hired to help organize mass vaccination sites at Gillette Stadium and several other Boston locations.
Even on dark, uncertain days, McGillivray has spoken openly, and truthfully, about what he observes. The feature film Marathon follows him to logistics and security meetings in advance of the 2014 Boston Marathon. He looks pale, haggard, his face deeply etched below his reading glasses, his hair thinning. When asked how it’s going, he sighs, “Putting on this race is no easy thing. Can we truly cover everything? I dunno. We’ll see.”
Of course, race day 2014 produced a sunshine-soaked, incident-free miracle, thanks to the combined effort of thousands, paid and unpaid, professional and volunteer. McGillivray was near the epicenter.
Four years later, he learned he had serious heart disease that would require triple-bypass surgery. He could have run and hidden. Instead, he shared personal details with anyone who asked, and began counseling others to pay more attention to their diet than he had.
When I heard that he was heading to Mass General Hospital for a treadmill stress test two months post-surgery, I asked if I might accompany him. I don’t think many would have said “yes” to this intrusive request, but McGillivray did. Watching him run as hard as he could at that point, I was scared to death for him. But he passed the test, and four months later finished Boston in his slowest time, about 5:30.
McGillivray attempted his first Boston Marathon as a 17-year-old in 1972, but dropped out near 18 miles and was rushed by ambulance to a nearby hospital. He had told his grandfather to meet him at 24 miles but never got that far. The following year, he nearly dropped out again, collapsing to the roadside at 21 miles. There, at Evergreen Cemetery, he realized he was close to the grave of his grandfather, who had died 10 months earlier.
“I felt it was a sign, and I couldn’t let my grandfather down again, so I got up and staggered to the finish in about four and a half hours,” he recalls. “That was when I vowed to run the race every year for the rest of my life. So far, I’ve managed it.”
He maintained his annual Boston streak through 1987, then was hired as technical coordinator of the marathon. Since then, he’s run the course in the late afternoon or evening. He doesn’t have a number and doesn’t show up in the official results, but few would quibble about the way he covers the distance after a long, exhausting day. He ran the Hopkinton-to-Boston course a week after the 2013 bombings and during the virtual Boston Marathon of 2020.
McGillivray doesn’t hold the record for most consecutive finishes. That belongs to Ben Beach, with 54 straight. He doesn’t have the most Boston finishes: That would be the 58 from legendary “Old John” Kelley, who, not by chance, is McGillivray’s all time favorite runner.
Several weeks ago, McGillivray was completing a 21-mile training run over the Newton hills. En route, he paused to take some selfies of himself and the Kelley statue near the 19-mile mark. “Johnny was a great friend, and I have dozens of pictures of us running together,” he says. “But I just had to have one more in the year of my 50th Boston.”
McGillivray organized his first charity event in 1978 when he ran coast to coast. Since then, he personally and his DMSE-directed races have raised tens of millions of dollars for various nonprofits.
“I think I first realized the power of philanthropy when I was suffering through the desert in 1978,” he recalls. “I just wanted to stop and quit. But I couldn’t, because I had met the kids beforehand, and they were so inspiring. I realized they were doing more for me to keep me going than I was doing for them.”
He expects to have a dozen friends accompany him on Monday, having informed all that it will be a “fun run.”
“I want us all to take our time, to enjoy the moments, and to appreciate each other,” he says. “I’ll be thinking about those who always supported me but are no longer with us—my grandfather, my parents, my brother Alan, Gloria Ratti, Dick Hoyt, Johnny Kelley—and, of course about my friends and family. I’ve been so fortunate. I’m one of the lucky ones.”
Below, McGillivray answers questions about his Boston Marathon streak, his race directing, and why he’s so driven.
Runner’s World: Let’s start with a biggie. Can you name your five most memorable Bostons?
Dave McGillivray: Sure. In 1973, I finished for the first time. I had started the year before as a 17-year-old, but dropped out around 18 miles and was taken by ambulance to a nearby hospital. In 1973, as soon as I finished, I made the commitment, just to myself, that I would return to run Boston every year for the rest of my life. When I commit to something, I usually follow through, and that has been true at the Boston Marathon. My grandfather taught me that you have to “earn the right” to do special things. For Boston, you have to do the training.
In 1978, I was training hard before Boston because I had already scheduled my transcontinental run that summer. That April I ran a then-personal best at Boston, 2:30:28. That showed me that all my training was working. I wanted to eventually qualify for the Olympic Marathon Trials, which I never did, but I came close. Mostly, that year’s Boston told me that I was headed in the right direction.
In 1988, the BAA offered me the position of technical coordinator for the marathon. At first, I figured that meant the end of my 15-year streak. Then I realized I could run at night after everyone else had finished. I started in Hopkinton at 8 p.m. and finished a little after 11 p.m. Thus began my annual “night shift” marathon.
In 2013, I was back at the start line in Hopkinton getting ready to begin my run when I got a call telling me what had happened at the finish line. I jumped in a State Police car and we sped to the finish at 80 miles per hour. When I reached Copley Square, there wasn’t much to do. Various public safety groups had set up a Unified Command Center that took control of the overall situation. I was fearful for my family at the finish, of course, and the possibility of other bombs in the area. But I put on my game face and helped organize an effort to get gear bags to the runners who were stranded without their bags. I ran the course a week later after Boylston Street was opened up again.
In 2019, I ran Boston six months after my open-heart, triple-bypass surgery. I had to balance my recovery and training very carefully. My longest run before Boston was 13 miles. Finishing the distance that year was definitely my most memorable and meaningful Boston. I’ve often felt that the comeback is stronger than the setback, and that proved true for me in 2019. It was my slowest Boston ever, but rather than being embarrassed by my time, I’m proud of how I got the job done.
How did you get started in race directing?
Before I had a company, I created a 2.5-mile race in my hometown, Medford, Massachusetts, for kids in the parks program. The race went from one park to another one. Then I opened a running store after I ran across America in 1978. Soon I was putting on events to promote the store, and before long I realized that I liked organizing events more than selling shoes. The first race I directed professionally was the Bay State Triathlon in Medford in 1982.
What skills do you have that are important to race directing?
Someone recently called me a logistician. I guess that fits me pretty well. It describes my strongest skill set: logistics, operations, and so on. I like the way we do the work, and you can see the progress, the results. That’s not always the case in, say, the marketing world. I like the idea of creating something from nothing.
How have you kept motivated to stay in marathon shape for so many years?
So many things are important, especially good health and good luck. Here are several strategies that have always worked for me.
→Have a year-round training plan. Boston is only one day per year, but the other days are when you do the work that helps you be ready on Patriots Day. This past year I decided to run 365 days in a row, which I accomplished on March 14, and I am still going. It might not have been the wisest thing I’ve ever done, but at least I know I’ve done the work, and that boosts my confidence that I’ll be ready on April 18.
→Run for something bigger than yourself. I’ve found it makes a huge difference. It’s been a long time since my last PR, so the last three years at Boston I’ve raised more than $100,000 annually for the Jimmy Fund, the Martin Richard Foundation, and the Joseph Middlemiss Big Heart Foundation. This year I’m running for my own foundation, the Dave McGillivray Finish Strong Foundation. We support youth activity and literacy across New England, and have earmarked funds to buy “blades” for children with prosthetics. Thinking about the kids keeps me going in training and on race day when I feel I might crash and burn.
→Make friends who inspire you. For me, it’s all about the people I surround myself with. Many of my closest friends are also my personal running heroes: “Old John” Kelley, Joan Samuelson, Bill Rodgers, Rick and Dick Hoyt, and so many others. We all feed off each other, and motivate each other. We are all in this together. We are each other’s biggest fans.
Whatever possessed you to do a solo transcontinental run in 1978?
I just wanted to see if I could do it! A friend had biked across the country and I thought, If he can bike across, I ought to be able to run the country. I then decided to do it for the Jimmy Fund of Boston, which is the fundraising arm of the Dana-Farber Cancer Institute. It was probably the hardest of all my endurance feats because it lasted 80 consecutive days, without a day off, and I was running 45 to 50 miles a day all by myself.
What makes you such an over achiever?
I’m not sure any of us get a second shot at this life, so I’ve always figured I should do as much as I can in my available time. I thrive on setting realistic goals, earning the right to attempt them, accomplishing them one at a time, and then moving on to the next one. When I do all of this, I feel good about myself. It raises my self-confidence and self-esteem, which are the foundations on which we accomplish everything in our lives.