Norm Patenaude killed in cycling accident Norm Patenaude Memorial Service Norm Patenaude Remembered

Norm Patenaude killed in cycling accident
David Blaikie & Duncan Thorn

Norm Patenaude, (ORA President), one of the best known distance runners in Canada, was killed instantly when struck from behind by a car while cycling on Highway 48, a two lane highway about 20 miles south of Beaverton, Ontario.  He was returning to his home in Orillia, after visiting the Lindsay 10K Milk Run that morning, to promote the ORA, and The Kinsmen Twin Lakes Marathon, of which he was the race director.

The accident occurred about 2 p.m. on Sunday, July 28.  The driver of the car, a 68 year old male, was charged with careless driving.  His 1987 Plymouth was estimated as travelling at 60 km/hr, by witnesses, on a curve in the highway when Patenaude's bicycle was contacted by the car's right front fender, throwing him onto the windshield of the car, and then onto the shoulder of the road.  He was not wearing a safety helmet.

His body was not identified by Ontario Provincial Police until Monday, when his girlfriend, Marie McKinnon, reported him missing.  She said it was not unusual for Norm' to stop over at a local running friends place when visiting a race out of town, but knew something was wrong when he had not contacted her by Monday.

A private funeral was held Wednesday.  It was followed by a public memorial service at Bethel Baptist Church in Orillia, Ontario, on Sunday, August 11.

Patenaude was born on March 8, 1945, in Victoria but lived in Ontario most of his life.  He leaves behind his five children, who live in Ontario, and his Father, who still lives in B.C.

A national-class marathoner in the 1960s and 1970s, and a pioneering ultramarathon runner and race organizer in later years, Patenaude was badly hurt last December while running home from work after dark in a snowstorm.

He received a flood of messages from well-wishers across Canada and beyond after news of his accident spread through the running community, and his good cheer and determination to recover inspired many.  Recently, he had applied to the Association of Canadian Ultramarathoners to stage the 1997 ACU 100K Championship.

Although he was not expected at one point to walk again, let alone run, he had recovered to the point where he was training for new challenges.

An OPP spokesman said Patenaude was training for a triathlon when the accident happened.

Patenaude attended several Ontario ultra races this spring, cheering runners on from a wheelchair, and he was among a group of Ontario runners who visited Boston for the 100th anniversary of the Boston Marathon.

He began running in 1959 and had a marathon best of 2:21:43 at the Canadian national marathon championships on September 15, 1973, in St. John's, Newfoundland.

His ultramarathon PRs included the following: 24 Hours/124 miles 684 yards, 100miles/15:07:23, 100K/7:56:50, 50 miles/6:07:49 and 50 kilometres/3:39:45.

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RUN in Peace
Norm Patenaude Memorial Service
Ed Alexander

On Sunday, August 11, 1996, a memorial service was held at the Bethel Baptist Church on Coldwater Road in Orillia for Norm Patenaude.  For many of us, Norm was more than just another runner; he was more like a godfather or a brother.  Some of you, however, may not know who he was, so a few words might be in order.

When I started running many years ago, which was a few years before Terry Fox died, I always ran alone, until I entered my first race, which was the first Terry Fox run.  And from that day forward, like many of you, I ran 5K, 10K, 15K, 5-mile, 26.2 mile and various other races and never once did anyone ever ask me, how do you know that it is 5 kilometres, 10 kilometres, etc.?  It just never occurred to me.  However, in 1989, I had to change a measured 50-mile course, and this is when I first heard of the Jones wheel counter.  It was Larry Clement, former member of Burlington Runners Club, who showed me the ropes.  Since then I have measured courses ranging from 5 kilometres to 100 miles, in every imaginable condition of rain, wind and heat; fought off herds of  blackflies and mosquitoes; tramped through mud holes and dodged cars and trucks in my efforts.  For this, and for all the countless races you and I have entered, we have Norm to thank.  Norm wrote the book on course measurement which is now accepted as the international standard.  We reprinted an article that Norm wrote on this subject back in the April 1995 issue of the Burlington Runners Times, page 23.

More of you will know Norm as the organizer of the Voyageur Marathon for 18 years in Massey, Ontario.  While Norm was in the Sudbury area, it became a hotbed of running activity.  In  1995, after many personal trials and tribulations, Norm moved to Orillia, and it, too, was quickly overrun with races from 5K to 50 miles, all at the impetus of Norm.

Norm was an inveterate critic of your running.  Murray Woods, a very talented runner who spoke at the memorial, said once Norm asked him how many miles he was putting in each week.  When he said one hundred, Norm asked him if he was injured.

Norm was also one of the founders of the Ontario Roadrunners Association, and helped write the standards used for race accreditation, which have since been adopted by the CTFA and the OTFA.  If you go to Nova Scotia or B.C. and run a marathon that has aid stations every 5 km, St. John's Ambulance, drop bags, course marshals, good course markings and so forth, think of Norm, because he was thinking of you.

Norm was also a member of Canada's Runner's Hall of Fame in Ottawa.

The memorial itself was a wonderful event.  Norm seemed to have touched the lives of an equal number of people in the running community as well as in his church, as both were well represented.

The pastor read from 1 Timothy 4:8 and spoke eloquently about Norm, how Norm used to constantly bug him to take up jogging, how he took Norm to the Y after he came out of hospital and how he thought Norm would never get off the stationary bicycle.

Marie, Norm's companion since he left Massey, then spoke quite lovingly of Norm, and read from Isaiah 40, Philippians 3:12-17 and I Corinthians 9:24-27.

The pastor then called on me, which was a bit of a shock, since Marie hadn't asked me in advance.  I had considered saying a few words, but had given this idea up by the time we arrived.  Since I absolutely hate getting up in front of people, I would have declined except for Norm.

I said a few words about my first encounter with Norm in the bush at Tom Jewiss's Sagamok 60 km at the Spanish River Indian Reserve six or seven years ago.  As Dr. Kendall and I, suffering the mosquitoes and blackflies and the 30°C heat on the second of two dusty gravel 30 km loops, were bravely holding up the rear, Norm was operating the only aid station on the course (which was about it back in those days).  As we shuffled in, he said, "You know, Ed, your problem is that you don't train enough."

I then spoke of our proposal to rename the Ironperson Award in the Ontario Ultra Series the "Norm Patenaude Award", and spoke of how Jess Heroux came back from his stroke and was reduced to duelling with the likes of Ed Alexander, but how he could qualify for this award through sheer effort and determination.  It must have been a good idea because I was the only one who got applause.

I was followed by Jo Wells, John Craig, Murray Wood, Norm's physician, Norm's chiropractor, and perhaps one or two others I don't recall at the moment.  The pastor concluded with an elucidation of the gospel message and how much it had meant to Norm.

Afterwards, there was a run that perhaps 20-25 people took part in.  Gord Harthun came up with my wife and me, and we were all warmed by the fellowship of many other runners that we knew who had also been touched by Norm.  The legendary Egor Egan even drove all the way from Nova Scotia to be there, which was quite moving.  It made me forgive him for letting his dog loose on the course as I was struggling to finish at Norm's Ganaraska race this spring, almost.

We miss you, Norm.  Run in peace.

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Norm Patenaude Remembered
Tim Uuksulainen

The telephone call from ex-Longboat Roadrunners Club member Brian McDowell was unexpected and hard-edged.  Did I know anything about the details of Norm's death?  I had just returned from my umpteenth trip to Toronto and the call raised more questions than answers.  However, the finality of the outcome was confirmed with a call to Longboaters Bob Kidney and Mike Turner.  Ironically, I had written a letter to Norm and posted it on the day he died.  While Norm didn't get to read my letter, I took solace in my parting words to him.

My first encounter with Norm occurred in July 1977, on Long Lake, situated on the outskirts of Sudbury.  I was up there coordinating a summer camp for physically disabled adults.  One day, while out for a run, who did I meet but Norm, who happened to be living on Long lake.  As a competitive runner in those days, I was quite familiar with Norm's accomplishments but had never met him.  In typical Norm fashion, he talked me into helping him with his Voyageur Marathon that would be taking place the following week.  What I didn't realize at the time was that, in subsequent years, I would end up being either a volunteer, racer or coaching presenter, and sometimes all three, at fifteen of his races.

While Norm and I managed to do some runs together over that summer, our paths rarely crossed over the years beyond my annual pilgrimage to Massey, Espanola, Hanmer or Sudbury, which represented the home sites for the Voyageur Marathon over the years.  However, Norm was an incessant writer (as many of us can confirm) and so writing became our most frequent form of contact.

To say Norm loved running is an understatement.  It was his life's PASSION.  It shaped his life, his relationships and his  goals.  If, as Thoreau stated, "a man's richness can be measured by the things he can do without," then Norm was indeed rich.  His house was an open museum on running-if you could find the memorabilia.  House cleaning was not a priority with Norm.  I can only hope that someone saved what Norm had collected.

As many of you know, Norm never learned to drive and somehow managed to get around on foot, bike, bus or hitching a ride.  In later years, when I spent one term on the ORA Board, I always marvelled at the drive and determination that led him to spend 12 to 14 hours on the road for a two-hour meeting that would further improve the sport of road racing and the athletes involved.  And he did this without much recognition or thanks.  But that's not why Norm was doing it.  He knew if he didn't do it, then likely no one else would.  Not many people realize that Norm almost single-handedly developed the standards for road racing certification that has now been virtually adopted by running associations across every province and in many other countries as well.  He was also involved with measuring the marathon course for the 1976 Montreal Olympics.

As an athlete, Norm was a throwback to the old days.  A staunch supporter of a high mileage program, Norm always preached the importance of long runs and would often ask if someone was injured because they were "only" doing 40-60 miles a week.  I don't know all of Norm's times, but I do know they were impressive.  For a self proclaimed "no talent" runner, Norm had a PB of 2:21:43 in the marathon.  He probably ran about 100 marathons, of which I would estimate 25 were sub 2:30.  He had a 10K PB of 31:00 and was in the 10-mile race at the old CNE when Jerome Drayton set a world record for 10 miles.  I believe Norm may have run 50 to 51 minutes on that day.  He turned to ultramarathoning in his later years and again excelled at many distances.

Norm's perseverance, tenacity and constant optimism on the roads transcended to his everyday endeavours.  Whatever Norm was involved with, it was with 100% commitment.  It often came with a price.  Norm overcame many hurdles that would have buckled most of us.  On the job, he was active in his local union and became president.  While in Massey, he ran for a position on the town council and although he didn't win, he came close.  To make ends meet, he also worked at a local animal zoo, cut wood and raised goats, all the while helping to rear four boys and a girt with his wife Shelda.  Weekends would often be consumed by trips to races around Ontario and as far away as Colorado, Michigan or Wisconsin, often sleeping in the tent or the back of their truck if billeting wasn't available.

When Norm lost his job at age 45, he immediately began pursuing retraining opportunities, first locally and then outside his community.  It was in this capacity that Norm ended up living with us for four months in North Bay, while taking courses at Canadore College.  This period of time helped to answer some of my questions concerning Norm.  I had always wondered how the heck he managed to write to so many people and get so much done.  My wife, Irene, a nighthawk who often does not get to bed until after midnight, mentioned that Norm was still up when she retired.  As a morning person, I frequently get up at 6 a.m. to find Norm already about.  Seems like he only needed three to four hours of sleep to get by (I can only speculate what kind of hyperactive child he might have been).  He would constantly be writing to friends, race directors, the OTFA, race sponsors, etc.  It was the same winter that I had finally had enough of the snow and ice and bought a treadmill.  I still remember Norm looking at me and shaking his head, saying "Has it come to this?  Where is your toughness?" The last laugh was mine, though.  Several weeks later, I came home from work and caught Norm running on the treadmill.  He tried to assure me that he was merely testing it out.  Right!  Touché.

Unfortunately, it was during his time with us that his wife decided that life without Norm wasn't too bad after all.  While devastated, Norm seemed to be picking up his life and found new roots in Orillia.  His efforts in putting Orillia back on the running map were nothing short of a miracle.  As one local runner commented at the memorial service, Norm did more for running in Orillia in two years than the rest of them had done in the past twenty.  Norm recently raised the most money in the community for the Hip Hooray Walk fund-raiser, which supports patients who have had orthopaedic surgery.  In typical Norm fashion, he had risen again from his own tragedy and saw the needs of others.

I think everyone is aware of the horrendous accident Norm incurred last December, when he was hit by a plow while running home after work during a snowstorm.  His story could have ended there.  It didn't, though, and he survived to show all of us what can be attainable when one's goals and objectives are tempered with sheer determination, optimism, will power and courage.  He also acknowledged the important role of the support structure around him-the many friends, runners, medical staff and fellow church members who helped him persevere.  I still haven't decided whether I was initially more shocked by the fact that lightning had indeed struck twice and Norm was dead, or that he had recovered from his injuries to the point where he could now bike from Orillia to Lindsay and was on his way back when it happened.  It still is hard to make sense of it all.  Perhaps life isn't fair, but I don't think Norm would buy that.  To Norm, life was meant to be lived full throttle.  There weren't enough hours in a day to do everything he wanted to do.  I'm sure if he could have gone without sleep he would have done it.  If there are parting messages from Norm, it is these: "To reach your goals, don't waste what talents, time or resources you have."   "Remain optimistic as there is always a solution."  And finally, "Which way are you going?  Maybe I can get a lift."

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