At the New York City Marathon, a Young Olympian Runs for Puerto Rico

Image may contain Human Person Symbol and Flag
Photo: AP Images

Beverly Ramos is ready to win an important race this weekend, though you would never know it just by looking at her. When I meet the 5-foot-5 runner from San Juan on an unseasonably warm fall afternoon in midtown Manhattan, just three days before she is set to run her third New York City Marathon, she appears completely at ease. Her skin is bare and dewy; her long, dark hair flows effortlessly over her shoulders, her nails freshly manicured in a glossy dove gray polish. The truth is, the Puerto Rican says, she’s faced far bigger challenges than the one she's in town for, namely last year’s Hurricane Maria, which killed thousands in its wake. It’s partly why she’s here today, to bring hope to her country, and to represent “the policemen and firefighters who worked tirelessly through the storm, and continue to do really hard, backbreaking work.”

A two-time Olympian and ambassador for the New York Road Runners, a nonprofit organization whose mission is to help and inspire people through running, 31-year-old Ramos first began training far from home, at Kansas State University, where she earned two NCAA All-American honors and set a school record in the 3,000-meter steeplechase. She’s since gone on to break many records, both in Puerto Rico and internationally, including at the New Balance Bronx 10-mile race this past September, where she earned a winning time of 55 minutes and 15 seconds—roughly 22 seconds faster than the previous champion. But, above all recent successes, the New York Marathon holds a special place in her heart.

“A month before last year’s race,” she says, recalling the category-five hurricane that immediately knocked out power for an estimated 3.4 million people, and killed at least 64 (a number that has since skyrocketed to over 4,600 due to prolonged lack of resources, sickness and continued damage from the storm), “I called NYRR and said, ‘Look, I’m not sure how I’m going to do this, or what condition I’m going to be in.’ ” Her coach and NYRR representative offered to fly her out to train in the U.S., but for Ramos, that wasn’t an option. “I couldn’t leave my family. So I trained in Puerto Rico, and tried to inspire people to have faith.”

Without adequate food, water, sleep, or proper pathways on which to run, Ramos pushed on with tremendous effort, and was able to compete in last year’s marathon. This year, she will undoubtedly do the same. “I hope people in similar situations will look at me and think, Look, she struggled and struggled and struggled until she worked so hard she eventually [made it],” she says of her return to the illustrious race. Here, Ramos talks about falling in love with her sport, the excruciating pain of watching her country fall apart, and why she is running not only for herself, but for the lives of all Puerto Ricans.

Tell me about how you first started running.

I was 9 years old living in San Juan. My mom and I used to go to the park together for walks, and then one day, I saw these runners. I ran a lap, like they were doing, and when I reached my mom, I stopped to walk with her again. When I saw the runners come back, I ran again with them, and continued doing that for a bit. I started doing two or three laps without stopping [and then] I ran 45 minutes at a good pace, and that’s when that group of runners noticed me. [They] told my mom, “Look, I think she’s got a pretty good shot at running. Maybe you should see if she likes it.” They recommended a track club, and my mom took me there to see if I liked it—and it was great. I ran from then on through 18, and when I graduated high school, I kept going.

What do you love most about running?

Doing something—anything—physically every day makes me feel better. Emotionally, it makes me stronger, and more disciplined. The things you have to do to train as a runner are very similar to what you need to do in life, how you set goals, and what to do when you fail trying to achieve [those goals]. It’s an individual sport, an individual fight, for which being both emotionally and physically strong counts a lot.

What has been your most memorable win thus far?

When I competed in the Ponce Grand Prix, the only record I have on the Ponce track in Puerto Rico. That race was so special to do in front of my home crowd, and I got my best time for the distance, a 3,000-meter race. When you’re away from home, and you break a record, you share it with your friends and family and the people that follow you after the fact. It’s very [different] when you’re [breaking] one right in front of them. It’s everyone’s win.

You were training for the New York Marathon when Hurricane Maria hit last year. When did you realize it had the potential to significantly alter the course of your running career?

I remember I had a workout scheduled the day after the hurricane was supposed to hit. I called my coach and said, “Hey Coach, this is going to hit pretty hard. I have no idea how many days [it will be].” I was thinking in days at that point, I didn’t know what was about to happen. I asked him, “Can we move this workout to the morning of the storm, and then if things start to get back to normal, maybe at the end of the week, we can do a long run or another workout?” And he said yes. So I went ahead and did the workout that morning, and in the evening, the hurricane came. At that point, I was like, “Oh my god, there’s nowhere to go.” I had no way of communicating with my coach, no connection on my phone, so we didn’t talk for two weeks. At almost the beginning of October, so a month or so away from the race, I was finally able to contact my coach and New York Road Runners. I said, “Look, I’m not sure how I’m going to do this, or what condition I’m going to be in.” But they were so supportive—both of them offered to bring me to the U.S., but I couldn’t leave my family. For me at that time, I felt selfish thinking about running when there were other things that were much more important going on. I said, “I’m going to keep training here, and try to inspire people to have faith.” Of course, there were many challenges and things—actual, physical things—that would be in my way.

Photo: Courtesy of Kevin Morris / @kevmofoto

Tell me about some of those roadblocks.

The two most important things when you’re training are fueling up and getting rest. And that was something that I didn’t get. I was eating the crappy food available to me, and getting less than five hours of sleep each night. For the week [of the storm], I think I slept an hour and a half every day, so I was basically sleep-deprived while trying to train for this marathon. At one point, I was rationing water. I was like, “I can only drink this amount of water per day!” Until, you know, I could get more, because the tap water was contaminated from debris, things that had collapsed, and dead animals. It wasn’t safe. It took us a couple of weeks to get help from other countries.

Which remains an issue. How did the experience of training last year differ from this year?

This year, I had more structure, more basics, more supplies available to me—I have power in my house, finally! We spent four months without power, before the marathon and then two months after the marathon, last year. It’s much better this time around, though. It’s a little emotional when you go back and think, This time last year, I was doing this and that . . . . It went much more smoothly this time, thank God. You realize, when you have everything available to you, [that life] really is so much easier. You have to appreciate it.

You've adopted the motto of fellow Puerto Rican residents, “Puerto Rico se levanta,” or “Puerto Rico is rising again", as your slogan when you compete. What has your story meant to other runners from Puerto Rico?

To try to be a strong voice for the people who are more vulnerable—the kids and families who lost everything—is the most important thing. That phrase is really about giving them hope, and believing that if we stay together and work together, we’ll be okay. Puerto Ricans are warm people. They’re very loud, and they love to party, but they’re the warmest people [in the world]. And when they have to come together, they do it. If people can look to my story and think, “Look, she struggled and struggled and struggled, but she worked so hard that eventually she got the result", that would be great. For me, that would be amazing, if that could happen.