Ortiz Doesn’t Run Out of Time : A Nation Is Given Long-Distance Lift

Coke and coffee, coffee and coke. Colombians understand that they are lumped with these exports. They know it and are leery of it, weary of it. They long to be known for producing more, be known for supplying the likes of Pedro Ortiz, champion of Sunday’s Los Angeles Marathon, be known for growing more on Colombia’s fertile soil than just rich and potentially life-endangering beans.

“Everybody is told that Colombia is bad news,” said Carlos Pilo Godoy, the La Crescenta businessman who coaches Ortiz. “Bad in this, bad in that, bad in this. Colombia is good in soccer, good in providing talented runners, tennis players, riders in equestrian events. And now, a Colombian is the winner of the 1989 L.A. International Marathon. So please, put this in your headlines.

“There are 34 million persons in Colombia. Not all of these 34 (million) are bad. Colombia has good, hard-working citizens. Colombia has good musicians, good salsa. It has the winner of the prize Nobel, Gabriel Garcia Marquez. And now it has this man, Pedro Ortiz. We would like to see you put big headlines that a Colombian has won the L.A. Marathon. Put very big headlines in your newspaper to tell everybody not all Colombians are bad news.”

Still wearing laurels hours after hitting the finish line, Pedro Ortiz nodded and agreed. Through his coach, he said he felt proud to win the race “for all my fellow Latinos here in Los Angeles.”

Californians had a right to be every bit as much in his corner as Colombians were. Maybe that’s why they lined the avenues from Figueroa to Echo Park, from Hollywood to Vine, standing in the rain, cheering him along. Ortiz is a resident alien, a U.S. taxpayer with a driver’s license who boarded with Godoy when he wasn’t training for the last America’s Marathon in Chicago, where he ran second, or for the last three L.A. races, or for the next New York Marathon, on which he has now set his sights.

He has a support group here. As the L.A. Marathon president, Bill Burke, said: “Los Angeles is famous for people staying home when it rains. But I couldn’t believe the numbers that were out there today, cheering for Pedro.”

As for Colombia’s government or athletic federation, what sort of support is Ortiz given?

“None,” said Godoy. “ Nada, nada and nada .”

Even when the two of them traveled back to the high altitudes of Bogota to train in the hills for four weeks, preparing for the Los Angeles race that meant so much to them, they wondered what sort of elevated stature, if any, Ortiz would attain if he ever came home a conquering hero. His coach bet Colombians would regret not taking more of an interest in him.

“I think there are many people not sleeping very well there now,” said Godoy.

After all, Colombia has itself a worthy contender, it would appear, for the 1991 world championships and 1992 Summer Olympics in Ortiz, who is in prime shape, a little on the muscular side, and at a prime age, 32, to be coming into his own as a world-class distance runner. Back in his hometown of Bucamanga, it is only now becoming clear what sort of possibilities await him.

And, if it seemed as though Ortiz was running Sunday with a vengeance, perhaps he was. He and his coach resented it greatly in 1989 when they had to pay their travel and entry fees after placing 10th in the previous year’s L.A. race. When Godoy telephoned, seeing the invitation that never came, he acknowledged telling the voice on the other end “in some very rude words” what he thought of this snub.

Ortiz went out and ran second. In so doing, he missed out on the sort of opportunity that recently was afforded the champion of the Daytona 500 auto race, who took advantage of the late collapse of the leader. Ortiz was dawdling 27 seconds behind Art Boileau of Canada when the pacesetter, Gidimas Shahanga of Tanzania, withered and withdrew. Had he stayed closer, Boileau might not have won.

Ortiz said he decided to train this time to make up one second per mile, 27 seconds over 26.2 miles, to get where he was going.

To do so, he looked over his shoulder constantly, fought off every challenge, even used his elbows and hips if necessary to keep them at bay. Said third-place finisher Peter Fonseca of Canada: “Ortiz would get a little mad and give you a look or a bump and I’d go: ‘Whoa, dude.”’

That’s how badly Ortiz wanted to win. He wanted the money, the Mercedes, the memory that went along with winning. And mainly he wanted that headline: NOT ALL COLOMBIANS ARE BAD NEWS. Even for those who already know this, the time seems right for a reminder.