They’ve gone the distance

When the Los Angeles Marathon began in 1986, it was a relatively small affair. Fewer than 10,000 runners made the loop that began at Figueroa Street and Exposition Boulevard, traversing the hills of Los Angeles before making their way back to the Coliseum.

Over time, the route changed, the course became flatter and faster, and the city came to embrace the event, creating a special bike tour and setting up entertainment centers along the route. The number of runners also grew, to more than 25,000.

The L.A. Marathon now ranks as the fourth-largest marathon in the country and the seventh-largest in the world. More than 350,000 runners have participated in the 19-year history of the event, following a route that now begins and ends in downtown.

Some participants -- 289, to be exact -- have seen it all. They’ve competed in each of the 19 L.A. marathons. The 258 men and 31 women come from 17 states; one is from Canada. The oldest is 80-year-old Albert Puglisi of Sun City, Ariz.; the youngest is 35-year-old Aimee Wyatt of Glendale. (She was 16 in 1986 but claimed -- with her parents’ permission -- that she was 18 so she would be allowed to compete.)

Two of the athletes use wheelchairs and have competed in the wheelchair event each time.

Although all marathons have their annual participants, or legacy runners, the local group firmly believes the L.A. Marathon is special -- from the ode to the city (Randy Newman’s “I Love L.A.”) blasting at the starting line to hometown entertainment and cheering local residents lining the route.

Twenty-four of the legacy runners have formed a bond over the years. This year they’re training together for the 20th race, scheduled for March 6. So far, they’ve taken 12- to 16-mile training runs in Playa del Rey and the South Bay, around the Rose Bowl, around Lake Hollywood and through Whittier Narrows.

The group’s organizer is 57-year-old Lou Briones, a retired engineer and former Marine who, like many people, caught the marathon bug while watching the 1984 Olympics in Los Angeles. Before then, he’d run a few local 10-kilometer events -- 6.2 miles -- but thought the 26-mile distance “ridiculous” and the people who ran in them “nuts.”

“In ‘84, something snapped,” Briones said. “I was watching the runners at the 17-mile point in Culver City and saw them flying past me, and I was mesmerized. I later found out the winner was 37. I was 36, and I thought, ‘I wonder if I could do that.’ ”

He hit the books, reading all he could about marathon training and committing himself to a rigorous six-month training routine.

“I was sure if I ran the L.A. Marathon once, I’d never do it again,” Briones said. He hasn’t stopped running since.

He’s run a number of other marathons, but none has captured him the way the Los Angeles event has.

“I even ran Boston on its 100th anniversary,” he says. “But this one is special.”

He adds: “One year, someone who had a fabulous house in Hancock Park put a grand piano on the lawn and sang opera. Where else can you get this but L.A.?”

Co-founder of the legacy group Dennis Smith, 51, a first-grade teacher at L.A.’s West Athens Elementary School, agrees that there’s a uniqueness to the L.A. Marathon.

“There’s nothing more special to me than to run through the places you grew up in, the places that are uniquely L.A.,” he says.

“We legacies have so much in common, having gone through the same types of things over the past 19 years, and each of us has had to go through challenges just to get to the starting line,” Smith says. “When you’re a marathon runner it’s more than just lifting one foot in front of the other. It’s a commitment.”

Briones and Smith have worked to get the legacy group together socially and to keep its members running together. “It can be lonely running 12 to 16 miles alone,” Briones says.

They try to find places to accommodate the needs of all the legacies, including 44-year-old Richard Radford, one of the two wheelchair athletes to have completed all L.A. marathons.

Radford, a computer programmer at Northrup Grumman, has also been captivated by the L.A. Marathon. After an accident in 1981 broke his back, he was motivated to exercise by watching 1984 Olympic runners.

“I was fortunate enough to do the first one, and after you start doing the first three or four you know you’ve got it,” he said. “Now my philosophy is to keep running this marathon till I’m 88 years old or too old to do it, whichever comes first.”

Some legacy runners plan to make this year’s 20th anniversary even more of a special celebration, tying themselves together as a sort of human centipede. The idea originated 19 years ago when a small group of runners from Hughes Aircraft decided to run the first L.A. marathon tied together in green shirts. The group continued to run together for the next five marathons and then disbanded.

Two of the original “centipede runners” who continued to participate in the race have urged other legacies to resurrect the centipede this year.

Briones and 13 other legacy runners will make it happen. Ten will run in a line, with the rest alternating in and out and providing support.

“We’re just starting now to tie ourselves together and learn to run in time,” said Briones. “You’d be surprised how much organization and communication it takes just to learn how to stop for a drink.”

Ever the former Marine, Briones has even created a special cadence to run to. “Legacy runners they’re the best, running while the others rest. Sound off one, two.... “