It's all Tim Freeman's fault.
He's the one who put the crazy idea in his father's head.
In May 2001, he called his dad from New York City and asked, "How would you like to run in the New York Marathon?"
Freeman's dad, Jim, was 62 at the time and hadn't run in years. What's more, he had never run farther than about five miles. The sane response would have been "Yeah, right."
But Jim Freeman is a Swarthmore professor, which is to say a bit off-kilter.
"What a great idea!" he told his son. "Let's do it."
Truth to tell, the time was right. Freeman was 20 pounds overweight. He was feeling sluggish and out of shape. What's more, he had a sabbatical coming, so he'd have time to train.
"I saw it as a wonderful challenge," Freeman said the other day. "It was what I needed at that time in my life, and a good physical project for my leave."
Tim's motive: "It was a way to connect with my dad in a nice way."
In high school, Jim Freeman was a jock, starring in soccer and baseball. But at Harvard, he became so absorbed in his music studies, he gave up sports, which he now regrets.
About 20 years ago, when he was in his 40s, Freeman began running. It was a way to make his blood course, to retard the midlife slide. He ran short distances and competed in a few local 5Ks. For four years, he kept it up, but then other commitments pushed running aside. Besides teaching at Swarthmore, Freeman, who plays bass fiddle, is conductor and artistic director of Orchestra 2001, whose aim is to teach bozos like me that modern music can be accessible and pleasurable.
By the time his son called, Freeman was ready to give running another go. Being an intellectual, he hunted up books about training for a marathon. He started out slow and short, gradually increasing to five or six miles a day. By summer's end, he was doing 12- and 15-milers on weekends.
There were lows and highs. One day, he decided to run as far as he could on the track at Strath Haven High, near his home in Wallingford. He managed to do 50 laps - about 12 miles - before he quit. The pain in his legs was unbearable. "I don't think I can do this," he told Tim.
But then he finished the Philadelphia Distance Run in respectable time and with energy to spare. His spirits soared.
Last year's New York Marathon took place on a spectacular fall day that was all the more poignant because Gotham was still reeling from Sept. 11. Tim, 34, who does fund-raising for Columbia University's Teachers College, ran stride for stride with his dad. They were both wearing shirts customized by Tim's wife, Kimberly. On the back, the shirts read: "Freeman Father" and "Freeman Son." The crowd took the cue and cheered them on by name.
Jim and Tim stopped several times to chat with friends and well-wishers. Jim, beset by a bladder infection, was compelled to empty his tank frequently. Still, they finished, and not with a gasping slog but a game and victorious sprint.
They crossed the line in 6 hours, 5 minutes, and placed 22,623d and 22,629th - good enough to make the list of finishers in the New York Times.
Jim was already high, but his son rocketed him higher when he declared: "Dad, you really are a stud!"
After this feat, Jim went to his doctor for a physical. Training for the marathon, he'd lost 25 pounds; his resting pulse had dropped from 72 to 52. "Whatever you're doing, keep it up," his doctor said. "You're in marvelous shape."
"Why should I stop?" Jim reasoned. "That would be silly." So he has continued to run, nearly every day in the summer (supplemented by hiking in the mountains of New Hampshire), two or three times a week when college is in session. At age 63, he looks fit and lean, carrying 190 pounds on a 6-foot-1 frame.
This Sunday, Jim and Tim will again be toeing the starting line in New York. But this time, they will be joined by another family member - mom.
Again, Tim is to blame. He called and proposed a reprise last May. His dad was so exhilarated, he invited his wife.
Her response: "Why not?"
Secretly, Dorothy Freeman, 64, who plays English horn and oboe, was praying it would never happen, that she'd never be chosen in the lottery for a space in the race. A sensible wish, that: An avid tennis player, she had never run before, ever.
God knew what was good for her; she was picked. So she has trained, and like her husband before her, she finished last month's Philadelphia Distance Run. Her time was 3:27, and she finished 11 places ahead of dead last. No matter: She finished.
Dorothy is intimidated by New York, fears she won't make it. But Jim and Tim are determined to pull her along. Tim remembers a pivotal moment from last year's marathon. About midway through, coming up Second Avenue, his dad suddenly realized: "We can do this!"
"I saw a change in him," says Tim. "He was suddenly very confident, and he's been confident ever since then."
"Running has revived something extraordinary inside me," Jim says. "To be able to make progress, to get better at something physical at age 63, is wonderful."
His post-retirement plans? To run other marathons around the world and to tackle the Appalachian Trail.
Chuckles Tim: "I feel like I created a monster."
