Miruts Yifter’s Legacy


It was a pivotal moment in the history of distance running, and I missed it.

I missed it because I was too busy being in college to pay attention to the 1980 Olympics, and because even if I had been paying attention, there was no live coverage of the Games in Moscow… NBC had canceled its domestic coverage in response to the U.S.-led boycott.

So I didn’t see the distance races. I didn’t see  Steve Ovett and Seb Coe win golds in the 1500 and 800, respectively, each of the two legends winning the race he was expected to lose and losing the race he was expected to win.  I didn’t see Waldemar Cierpinski, later implicated in the vast East German Doping program, defend his Olympic marathon title

And I didn’t see Miruts Yifter win the 10,000 with a devastating acceleration from 300m out. The move was so sudden that it was as if one moment there were five world-class athletes in contention (three Ethiopians and two Finns, among them the two-time double Olympic gold medalist Lasse Viren), and the next moment, there was one champion and four also-rans.

Watching the video one can see that as the race develops, Viren is repeatedly frustrated in his attempts to take the lead and control pace, a strategy that had served him so well in Munich and Montreal. Instead, every time he reaches the front, Ethiopia’s Mohamed Kedir surges back into the lead only to slow the pace again. On the final lap approaching the back straight, Viren makes a last, desperate bid for the front, making it as far as the right shoulder of Kedir. And that’s the moment when Miruts Yifter shifted to another gear, and made Kedir, Viren, and all the rest look like the junior varsity.

Perhaps no one in the United States was paying attention, but in Ethiopia, a seven-year-old boy named Haile Gebrselassie was listening to the race on the radio. A few days later he listened again, as Yifter added the 5000m gold medal. This week, following Yifter’s death on December 22nd at the approximate age of 72 (no one was ever sure how old he was), Gebrselassie was quoted by the Associated Press, saying “Miruts has been everything to me and my athletics career. When I started running, I just wanted to be like him. He is the reason for who I am now and for what I have achieved.”

Yifter had first competed in the Olympics in 1972, winning the bronze medal in the 10,000m behind Viren’s gold. But he missed the start of the 5000m in Munich, so we will never know how he might have run in that famous race with Viren, Gammoudi, Stewart, Prefontaine, and Puttemans.

The defending bronze medalist was denied a chance to run in Montreal because Ethiopia, along with many African nations, boycotted the 1976 Olympic Games. (Kenya would boycott in 1976 and 1980, and Ethiopia would join the Russian and Eastern Bloc boycott of the 1984 Games. It’s strange to think that after 1972, it would be 16 long years before both Kenya and Ethiopia competed in the same games, and one wonders how much that set back the progress of distance running in those countries.) But in Moscow, Yifter finally broke through, completing the 10K/5K double, running three qualifying races and two finals in 9 days.

Now we take Ethiopian distance prowess for granted. Gebrselassie, and later Kenenisa Bekele continued Yifter’s legacy, winning four straight Olympic 10,000 titles, but have been and are so many other world-class Ethiopian distance runners — men and women — that it seems strange, indeed, to think of a time when they weren’t already on top of the world.

I wish I had seen and appreciated Yifter in his prime. At least, I wish I had been more familiar with his accomplishments in those boycott-plagued years of the late 70s and early 80s. But for me, and probably for many of my contemporaries who never actually watched him race, he was just a name. “Yifter the shifter,” the press liked to call him — not a very dignified nickname for a great champion, a small man of uncertain age and a receding hairline, who had the habit of making all the other great runners of his generation look mortal by comparison.


About Jon Waldron

Running and Racing have been important parts of my life for as long as I can remember. I ran Track and Cross Country at Amherst HS, back in the day, and am proud to have been training and competing with the Cambridge Sports Union (CSU) for more than thirty years. If my bones hold out, I hope to continue for another thirty. Sixteen years ago, I began coaching, first as an Asst. Coach at Newton North HS in Newton, MA, and for the past ten years, as Head Track and Cross Country Coach at Concord Academy in Concord, Massachusetts. I've been writing about running for almost as long as I've been running, dating back to high school, when I would write meet summaries for the Amherst Record for about $0.33 per column inch. I've been blogging about running since 2005, and began blogging at "the runner eclectic" in 2014. Until recently I also had a day job, working full-time as a Technical Product Manager for Nuance Communications, based in Burlington, MA. But I am now on what might turn out to be a permanent sabbatical. Thank you for reading my blog, and please consider leaving a comment.
This entry was posted in In Memoriam, Olympics and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to Miruts Yifter’s Legacy

  1. Kevin says:

    What a cool video with such aggressive tactics. The other Finn (Kaarlo Maaninka) looked like he was hurting the most but he pulled out a 2nd place. I wonder if Kedir was working for Yifter the whole time by frustrating Viren or if he just wanted to be at the front for his own placing.

  2. Jon Waldron says:

    There was a lot going on in that race. Before I watched the video, I knew nothing about Maalinka, who also took bronze in the 5000m later in the Games. Unfortunately, his medals are tainted by the fact that he admitted to the NY Times in 1981 that he had had blood transfusions (of his own blood) prior to the Olympics. He claimed they made no difference. Right.


    On the surface, it seemed that Finnish distance running remained strong. And in the next few years, Martti Vainio would emerge — apparently to carry on the great Finnish running tradition. But Vainio tested positive for an anabolic steroid twice in 1984, once after the Rotterdam Marathon and again after finishing second in the Olympic 10,000m (to Alberto Cova, who later admitted to blood doping).

    When I re-watch Yifter’s victory, it’s as though I’m watching the exact moment that Viren’s career come to an end, and Finnish running in general reaches a crisis point where the possibility of competing without artificial help disappears on that backstretch.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s