You're a little imp, but I miss ya. C'mon back," said Arthur Lydiard over the phone to Joelyne Van Der Togt, a 28-year-old runner who had come to him three months earlier after a 4:04 marathon at New Plymouth. Joelyne moved in. She became his friend, support crew, travel consort, wife, giggle-companion, and most-concerned for athlete; and she improved to 2:56.
"Arthur always worried about me when I was out running," said Joelyne, who had a progressive case of endometriosis, a painful uterine disorder. "But I love running. You only have to be around Arthur for two minutes to get motivated! Imagine living with him! Here was this 80-year-old with no knees, out mowing, pruning, walking, and swimming, and then he'd get on the rowing machine. He really showed me a lot."
But Joelyne showed Arthur a lot in return, especially when Lydiard's double knee replacement surgery turned into a nightmare of stroke and heart attack. They had a loving, playful marriage. She wasn't about to let this dynamo become a shell. "I went to that hospital every day, teasing and needling him to get moving. He was very down at first, but my jokes got through, 'cause he said, 'Oh, it's you, is it?' and suddenly he saw a walking frame and was down the hall on it. Next morning he was banging on the physio's door, demanding to begin therapy, even though it was Sunday."
Seven lively and relatively healthy years followed, in a house where Arthur banged in and out to make speeches, the phone jangled from around the world, and a stream of athletic visitors, including my husband and me, drank all his favorite red wine and gabbed into the night. "Arthur just loved all that, and so did I," said Joelyne.
