Ortiz Doesn’t Repeat Error, Wins L.A. Race

Canadian Peter Fonseca, running in his first marathon, found himself in a pack of three runners leading the race with only one mile to go in Sunday’s Los Angeles Marathon.

Alongside Fonseca, 23, were two men who were a decade older and had run scores of world-class marathons. Suddenly, the men began to run with almost wild abandon, sprinting hard after running 25 miles.

It was a pivotal moment for Fonseca, and a telling moment, too. For in marathons, as in life, experience is the best teacher.

Fonseca lacked only an education Sunday, and was left to watch ruefully as Pedro Ortiz of Colombia and Toni Niemczak of Poland swiftly pulled away in what would be the race’s turning point. Ortiz was the swifter, winning in 2 hours 11 minutes 54 seconds on a damp and cloudy day--ideal marathon conditions.

Despite the cool weather, however, one runner died in the race. William McKinney, 59, of Altadena was pronounced dead at Midway Hospital after suffering a heart attack at mile 21, race officials said. It was the first death in the five runnings of the marathon.

Experience was the winner and vindication was its inspiration for some runners Sunday. Each race had its own story.

Ortiz ran hard, as if to distance himself from last year’s miscalculation that saw him place second by only 27 seconds. Niemczak, who was second Sunday in 2:12:05, has been struggling to erase the tarnish of a drug suspension that kept him out of the 1988 Olympics.

For the women’s winner, Julie Isphording of Cincinnati (2:32:25), it was a triumph over a similar L.A. course upon which she suffered a torn tendon in her right foot and dropped out after 11 miles of the 1984 Olympic marathon.

And in a cruel twist on the same theme, experience has taught this: not to pay any mind if Sylvia Mosqueda, formerly of Cal State L.A., dashes to the front and leads a marathon, for she is sure to wither and drop out. Which Mosqueda did again Sunday after running at a world-record pace for 10 miles before disappearing somewhere around 17 miles.

As always, this race was a microcosm of the city itself--democratic and diverse--with every oddball and zealot free to get on the line with the fit and the fanatic. And it was a perfect day for running 26.2 miles through city streets. Temperatures were in the 50s for the start and a light early-morning rain had sputtered out by the time a cannon was fired to start the race up Figueroa.

As some 18,918 entrants--exactly one more than last year--streamed by the starting platform where Muhammad Ali stood, hundreds chanted ‘Ali, Ali’ as the three-time world heavyweight champion blew kisses to the runners.

In the masses could be found the usual assortment of first-time runners and veterans carrying ribald signs and wearing leftover Mardi Gras outfits: one man ran in the black road uniform of the Kings’ Wayne Gretzky, complete with regulation NHL helmet. How times have changed.

The early pace among the elite runners was conservative and cautious as the race wound its way in twists and turns out of the downtown area and onto the long straight shot along Sunset Blvd., bound for the west side. The men stayed in a pack that fluctuated from a dozen to 18 until the 15th mile. There, Ortiz, Niemczak, Fonseca, Mark Plaatjes and four others pulled away.

On through streets puddled with standing water the pack chugged. Ortiz ran at the front with a steely confidence, often glancing about him to assess his competitors. With him was Plaatjes, the former South African who had run here twice but had been thwarted by fate. Niemczak ran strongly beside Fonseca, who was content to sit at the back of the group and watch what unfolded.

Or unraveled.

It began at the 21st mile. Plaatjes began to fade and eventually lost contact with the first three. He would finish fourth in 2:13:44, saying later he felt flat, at a loss to explain or even describe his sense of staleness.

By the 25th mile, Ortiz, Niemczak and Fonseca were still bunched tightly, not a common sight late in a marathon. What happened next was downright rare. Ortiz went first, sprinting in earnest, and, after a beat, Niemczak responded. Fonseca appeared to debate his next move. It proved to be a costly delay.

“When they blasted off, I thought if I go with it and go crazy, I thought I would be paralyzed on the road,” Fonseca said. “I was scared, I’ll admit it. I was real apprehensive to go with these guys. I thought if I died I would look like an idiot. I decided to hang back and just play the game.”

It was no game to Ortiz, who relaxed only after the race. The Colombian has felt snubbed by this race, having placed 10th in 1988, then not receiving an invitation to the elite field for last year’s race. Eager to make a point, Ortiz finished second last year, but said he erred in not going out fast enough to catch winner Art Boileau.

“I wanted to be in control of the race,” Ortiz said. “If anyone was going to go, I wanted to go with him.”

Only Niemczak could go with Ortiz. Niemczak, who trains in Alamosa, Colo., has placed second in his last four marathons since returning from a drug suspension. The Polish runner tested positive for anabolic steroids after placing second in the 1986 New York City marathon.

“I am always a runner-up,” he said.

Ortiz and Isphording each won $26,385 and a Mercedes Benz.

Isphording was content to let Mosqueda go out out fast. “She’s known to do that; I went out there to run my own race,” she said.

Mosqueda faded at the 11th mile and Sirje Eichelmann of the Soviet Union took the lead, which she retained for the next eleven miles. Behind her were the patient Isphording and then Lizanne Bussieres of Canada, who was third in 2:33:44.

Isphording passed Eichelmann at 22 1/2 miles, going by the Soviet, who didn’t appear to notice. Seconds later Eichelmann made a run at Isphording, but it wasn’t enough. She was second in 2:33:36.

“At mile 20 I was going to give whatever I had left, it just so happened that they were beginning to die,” Isphording said.

Although she failed in her attempt to break 2:30, the barrier that distinguishes the world-class women, Isphording was happy to win in L.A.

“I dropped out of the Olympics here in 1984,” she said. “I did get my second chance out here. This race means a lot for me to win for that reason.”

Fonseca, who trains with Boileau in Eugene, Ore., can say he lived and learned after his first marathon. It took all of Boileau’s convincing to get Fonseca to even enter here. Having done it, he’s sure he will do it again. But not merely for the experience.

Since he competes on the University of Oregon track team, under NCAA rules Fonseca would not be allowed to keep his $4,000 in prize money. Fonseca, lured by his surprising success, announced he would henceforth forsake his collegiate eligibility.

“I love being a Duck, but I am going to take the money,” he said.