Remembering Ric Buxton

**by Don Drewniak, March 31, 1998**
During the winter of 1977-1978, I was a member of the North Medford Club, then the largest running club in New England. I had started racing in 1975 and during 1976 and 1977 I had completed over 100 road races. At the time, I was convinced that if I just kept racing I would become faster and faster - watch out Bill Rodgers and Frank Shorter.
At one of the late 1977 races, I heard about a series of training runs being organized by the Central Mass Striders, a small Worcester based club, that were scheduled to be run on Sunday mornings out of the old Norton Company field house in Worcester. Since my times at races weren't getting any faster, I figured that the training runs might help. It was at the first of these runs that I met Ric Buxton.
Ric was ten years younger than I and had just started running. During high school and college he had been a baseball player and, for much of that period, topped 200 pounds. He had just recently discovered running and was determined, as was I, to become "faster."	He had been a baseball player and topped 200 pounds
As the small pack of runners headed out around Indian Lake, it quickly became apparent to both Ric and me that most of the runners in the group were much quicker than were we. Within a mile, most of them had left us behind.
Ric and I survived the experience and went on to run a number of the "Norton" training runs over the next two years. But from that run we became immediate friends and members of CMS.
Within several months I became the newsletter editor and went on to become involved with CMS in a number of different capacities. Ric ultimately became a member of the CMS board of directors for well over a decade, served as a CMS coach and was race director for the past several years of the Central Mass Health Classic 10-miler and 5K.	The CMS multisport team
Ric's contributions to CMS over the past twenty years have been staggering in scope. Without him, CMS may very well have ceased to exist. Not only was he a constant on the board of directors, it was Ric who was invariably left to find other members to serve on the board. Whenever it seemed that CMS would pass out of existence, it was Ric who managed to recruit volunteers, and always quality volunteers, for various board positions. It was always difficult to say "no" to Ric.	When it seemed that CMS would pass out of existence, it was Ric who managed to recruit volunteers
Over the past six or seven years, CMS multisport teams have enjoyed unparalleled success in New England. It was Ric, more than anyone else who put these teams together and kept them together.
When no one else could be found to do so, Ric stepped forward and for the past four years served as race director of the CMHC races. Without Ric, they would have disappeared four years ago.	CMHC race director
Through his coaching, Ric has influenced hundreds of runners. The following thoughts from *Steve Wysk* (Lunenburg) perhaps best describe Ric as a coach:
For the one person who has given so much to all of the lives he touched - the unselfishness, the caring, the giving, the sense of humor, never expecting anything in return, only the respect he so justly deserved.	Never expecting anything in return, only the respect he so justly deserved
I can remember days when during the track season you would be there, even in the worst of conditions to coach those four or five individuals who showed up and not once complain. You would say, "Okay folks, let's get down to business". You made it fun.
Ric, you will always be part of my life in all I do, you will always be on my mind when I am training to be the best I can be and all the time remembering that we do this for the fun and the companionship of all those around us, you will always be a constant source of inspiration.
Rick, I will miss you immensely, and I will never forget what you have given to me personally.
Back to the early days, our friendship did not preclude an intense personal competition. During 1978, 1979 and 1980, Ric and I competed directly at numerous Worcester County races. And while I managed always to finish ahead of Ric, the margin of victory became smaller and smaller with each passing race. Ric was determined to beat me.
In 1981, there were two major races in Worcester - Charlie's Surplus 10-miler held in May and Race '81 in September. Billed as a 10K, Race '81 was probably closer to 6.0 miles. Somehow this race became the focal point of the competition between the two us and, sometime during the summer preceding the race, we bet a case of beer on the outcome.	Race '81
As we lined up at the starting line near the entrance to the old Worcester Galleria, nothing other than our personal duel seemed to matter. The gun went off and so did Ric. By the time I reached the first half-mile, he had built up about a 200-yard lead and I thought that I was doomed to defeat.
As the race progressed, however, Ric's lead increased no more and by 1.5 miles, somewhere near Newton Square, I began to close the gap. By the two mile mark, I was just a few yards behind him. At that point, I decided to make my move and I picked up the pace considerably and ran by him, saying nothing, but giving him an "I gotcha" smile. Ric seemed finished and I was determined to end the duel as soon as possible. And so I continued running as hard as I could. That was for about another half-mile and then reality set in - I was done. Over three miles to go and I had nothing left.
I looked over my shoulder to see where Ric was, but he was nowhere in sight. "Perhaps, I thought to myself, "He has dropped out." Knowing Ric as I did, however, I knew there was no chance of that. I plodded on and, as I runner after runner began to pass me, I waited for the inevitable. By mile five still no Ric. "Maybe he passed me and I didn't see him."
Heading down Main Street just past the five-mile mark, I spotted a mutual friend watching the race. "Where's Ric?" I yelled.
"He's 100 yards behind you," came the reply.
My only hope at that point was that he was hurting as much as I was. As I turned onto Franklin Street with half of the Worcester Common to go, I glanced back to see Ric some 25 yards behind me and smiling an "I gotcha" smile.
Motivated only by panic, I somehow managed to pick up the pace and staggered across the finish line eighteen seconds ahead of Ric, beating him 38:31 to 38:49. Yes, I had the victory and the case of beer, but I knew it was a Phyrric victory. Had the race been a true 10K, Ric would have passed me. And I knew that it was inevitable that Ric would become the faster runner.
He did. A year later, I conveniently managed to miss Race '82. Ric ran 36:38, over two minutes faster than the previous year. A month later, he ran a PR 2:58:42 at the old Ocean State Marathon.
Ric, through sheer determination, transformed himself from a 200+ pound baseball player into a runner who, while not blessed with speed, maximized his ability.
In the late 1980's his attention became focused more and more on training for and competing in triathlons. And for years, he invested major blocks of time training in three disciplines - running, bicycling and swimming.
By the 90's, while still competing occasionally in road races and often in triathlons, Ric found the time to coach CMS runners and organize the CMS triathlon team, then the TRI-PIGs, now the Triangles. That he would do so was not only a testimonial to his boundless energy, but also to his background. Coming out of college in the mid-70's, Ric taught and coached for several years at St. John's High School in Worcester.
Never one to pass on a challenge, he left teaching in 1981 to go to work for a computer company. While on assignment for a two-year period in Chicago, Ric met and married his wife, Peg. Peg followed Ric into the triathlon world and gained national age-group recognition in 1997.
When caught in corporate downsizing four years ago, Ric, ever the optimist, viewed it as an opportunity to combine his love of triathloning and his occupation. The result? He opened up Wachusett Cycle & MultiSport in West Boylston. The store became a quick success largely due to Ric's work ethic, his honesty and his personality. When a new customer walked into Ric's store, he or she may not have left the store having made a purchase, but they left with a new friend.	Wachusett Cycle & MultiSport in West Boylston
From the first time I ran with Ric, I was aware that he had a problem with pronounced varicose veins in his lower left leg. He never complained about them, but it was obvious that they caused him problems. Finally, late last year, he made a decision to have them surgically stripped and removed. He did so in early January of this year.
Within three weeks, he was back running and training for Fred's Marathon. Ric had entered Fred's '98 last May - the first entrant. When he found out that he had been given #1, he asked for, and received, #17. Fred's was to have been his 17th marathon.
Toward the middle of February, he returned to have a minor procedure done on two veins in the lower leg that could not be removed. Shortly thereafter, he began to feel "not right" and assumed that he had the flu. Five days later he collapsed at home and, less than two hours later, Ric died of a pulmonary embolism. .	Ric was 44
There are many ways to measure the life of a human being. One of those is to assess the number of people who view one's death as a personal loss. Literally hundreds of people came to Ric's wake - colleagues from his teaching days, former students, colleagues from his computer days, biathletes and triathletes, customers, and, of course, those from the running community, both CMS and non-CMS.
The week of Ric's passing was for me, as it was for so many, the saddest of my life. Over and over, I remember his telling me in our early days of running competition after I would have managed to claim a victory, "You know that sooner or later I'll beat you. Eventually you'll be in a rocking chair as I run by you." It was said, of course, with Ric's magnificent smile and with the humor of a man who loved life so very much.
Life gives us those times, whether triumphant or tragic, that we never forget. Those of us saying our final good-byes to Ric at the cemetery experienced one such rare moment. The priest had finished his final words and a number of those present had slowly walked to the casket, breaking flowers from the arrangements and placing them on top of the casket. When there was no one left to add another flower, no one could leave. No one could accept what had happened.
Finally, a gentlemen that none of us from CMS knew slowly approached the casket. He was wearing a suit, but his feet were bare. Ever so slowly he placed down alongside the casket a pair of running shoes which looked as if they had 3000 miles on them. From the runners present, there was an audible, collective gasp. As tears flowed, the gentleman walked away. Once we had collected ourselves, we were able finally to walk away. We had to accept what none of us wanted to accept.	3000 miles
Only later did we learn the significance of the shoe placement. In the early 90's, Ric would often run at noontime with a person who chronically complained that his ankles hurt, or his knees hurt or his hips hurt. Ric would look at his shoes and tell him something to the effect, "No wonder you're hurting. Buy a new pair of shoes, the ones you're wearing must have 2000 miles on them." The shoes left with Ric were those same shoes.