Ron Smith
Written by: Mike Plant
Date: Wed Jun 29 2011
One of triathlon's pioneers, and a mentor to many during the sport's early days, Ron Smith, died today. Mike Plant, chronicler of triathlon's formative years, author of "Iron Will", and Ron Smith's friend, honors him below.
It's hard to speak about Ron Smith in the past tense. Even on his next-to-last day, none of us would have been surprised to see him swing his feet out over the side of his hospital bed, stand up, shake out the kinks and stride off down the hall, with his bare ass hanging out of his gown, trailing tubes and wires and shedding cancer cells like fleas.
No such luck. Ron died this morning, June 29. As in all he did, he went gracefully, without drama or fanfare.
Ron was the kind of guy you would have wanted your kids to meet. You would have wanted them to look into those slightly rheumy eyes of his, look into that half-wrecked but still-handsome face, and learn how to live. Ron never shrank from a challenge, never gave an inch, but he also gave everything he had to the people around him. He treated CEOs and janitors exactly the same – as if they were people. That's all. People. He wasn't a corporate guy not because he didn't have the brains or the talent, but because his heart was too big. He cared too much about being down in the trenches with the crew, hands-on helping, making sure things were done just right. Don't get me wrong, Ron could lead; he could, and did, command with authority, but I know that somewhere down deep, he probably figured that if you couldn't do it in flip-flops or running shoes it wasn't worth doing. Wing tips, business suits and boardroom politics were ridiculously not his style.
In case you don't know the story, Ron was an early man into the Chart House restaurant chain, and he made a chunk of money, lived in a big house in Rancho Santa Fe. But when he lost pretty much everything in a financial scandal not of his own making, he went from living in luxury to living out of his Volkswagen van, pretty much overnight and, thing is, you would not have known one Ron from the other because there truly was no difference. The van was big enough for his bike and his workout gear and from that point on it was all good.
This for sure: you'd want Ron on your team. For anything. He would never let you down. He used a crude term that he must have picked up in his UDT days that I found compelling: "When the shit gets brown…" Whenever I was with Ron, I knew that when the shit got brown he would be there. He would walk through fire and ice for a friend, and I think it's fair to say we would all do the same for him.
Way to go Big Man. You did well.
It's hard to speak about Ron Smith in the past tense. Even on his next-to-last day, none of us would have been surprised to see him swing his feet out over the side of his hospital bed, stand up, shake out the kinks and stride off down the hall, with his bare ass hanging out of his gown, trailing tubes and wires and shedding cancer cells like fleas.
No such luck. Ron died this morning, June 29. As in all he did, he went gracefully, without drama or fanfare.
Ron was the kind of guy you would have wanted your kids to meet. You would have wanted them to look into those slightly rheumy eyes of his, look into that half-wrecked but still-handsome face, and learn how to live. Ron never shrank from a challenge, never gave an inch, but he also gave everything he had to the people around him. He treated CEOs and janitors exactly the same – as if they were people. That's all. People. He wasn't a corporate guy not because he didn't have the brains or the talent, but because his heart was too big. He cared too much about being down in the trenches with the crew, hands-on helping, making sure things were done just right. Don't get me wrong, Ron could lead; he could, and did, command with authority, but I know that somewhere down deep, he probably figured that if you couldn't do it in flip-flops or running shoes it wasn't worth doing. Wing tips, business suits and boardroom politics were ridiculously not his style.
In case you don't know the story, Ron was an early man into the Chart House restaurant chain, and he made a chunk of money, lived in a big house in Rancho Santa Fe. But when he lost pretty much everything in a financial scandal not of his own making, he went from living in luxury to living out of his Volkswagen van, pretty much overnight and, thing is, you would not have known one Ron from the other because there truly was no difference. The van was big enough for his bike and his workout gear and from that point on it was all good.
This for sure: you'd want Ron on your team. For anything. He would never let you down. He used a crude term that he must have picked up in his UDT days that I found compelling: "When the shit gets brown…" Whenever I was with Ron, I knew that when the shit got brown he would be there. He would walk through fire and ice for a friend, and I think it's fair to say we would all do the same for him.
Way to go Big Man. You did well.
Publisher's notes: I found out about Ron Smith's passing earlier today. He was 77. I struggled, wondering how I was going to write about this. And then Mike Plant dropped me the above, unsolicited, and solved my problem. Mike, you wrote it perfect, and much better than I or anyone could've.
The pic is apparently from Ron's UDT days. Mike referred to this above. UDT stands for Underwater Demolition Team. He was a Navy frogman. This before the existence of the Seals.
Ron was a fixture in triathlon from the earliest of days. His buddies numbered among them Scott Tinley and Gary Hooker, and the rest of the early 80s San Diego crowd. ST and Gary were with Ron in his final days and hours.
Ron was our sport's archetype. He was a gladiator. As basketball fans know, the NBA's logo is the silhouette of Jerry West. If triathletes bore a similar icon on their race singlets, it would be the image of triathlon's original strongman.
Ron was a lion. He will be missed.
The pic is apparently from Ron's UDT days. Mike referred to this above. UDT stands for Underwater Demolition Team. He was a Navy frogman. This before the existence of the Seals.
Ron was a fixture in triathlon from the earliest of days. His buddies numbered among them Scott Tinley and Gary Hooker, and the rest of the early 80s San Diego crowd. ST and Gary were with Ron in his final days and hours.
Ron was our sport's archetype. He was a gladiator. As basketball fans know, the NBA's logo is the silhouette of Jerry West. If triathletes bore a similar icon on their race singlets, it would be the image of triathlon's original strongman.
Ron was a lion. He will be missed.
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Comments
Ron Smith my hero
Susan Chaplin
Reviewed by: Susan Chaplin, Oct 21 2011 7:22PM
One day it dawned on me (before "bucket lists" were the rage that they are today) that before I died I wanted to do the Hawaii Ironman triathlon. I talked around and people said I would need a coach to "qualify" for the big event. Farther groping in the deep revered pool of possible coaches produced a name already a legend: Ron Smith.
At first I was sorry I got myself mixed up with such an apparent slave driver. Then as my fitness and dedication to my ambitious goal increased, so did my respect and admiration for my coach Ron Smith. When, finally, I qualified for my first Ironman, I was hooked on the triathlon lifestyle and at last I began to see method in the madness of my unrelenting coach.
Thanks to Ron, I finished (in good age group standing) my first, and second, Ironman. The lessons I learned in while preparing for and finishing this iconic race, were Ron's (and life's) very best lessons: give what you do 100%. Never whine, or--heaven forbid!--quit.
...and to this day, my dear friend Ron, I haven't quit following my heart. I may whine every now and then, but I never quit.
At first I was sorry I got myself mixed up with such an apparent slave driver. Then as my fitness and dedication to my ambitious goal increased, so did my respect and admiration for my coach Ron Smith. When, finally, I qualified for my first Ironman, I was hooked on the triathlon lifestyle and at last I began to see method in the madness of my unrelenting coach.
Thanks to Ron, I finished (in good age group standing) my first, and second, Ironman. The lessons I learned in while preparing for and finishing this iconic race, were Ron's (and life's) very best lessons: give what you do 100%. Never whine, or--heaven forbid!--quit.
...and to this day, my dear friend Ron, I haven't quit following my heart. I may whine every now and then, but I never quit.
Ron Smith' Apparition
I missed going by a day
Reviewed by: Jim Curl, Jul 22 2011 2:02AM
I knew him well but not closely, rode often but not close, talked occasionally and usually on sports; Ask him a question - His comment would be perfectly dry. If a had a job to do in his gym, he would show me what to do and leave me alone.
In the early 80's he was so fast that before we knew him we DQ'd him twice on the general basis that people that age can't go that fast.
He was famous for his crashes and repairs. Ultimately his motion through space was a symphony of all the metal things that keep his pieces together or protected them from falling off.
I asked him for historical something for the Hall of Fame and he gave me his J. David Tri suit; arguably the most expensive piece of lycra underwear in history and he was glad to see it gone.
Some lives just don't sum up well - they never really did anything to tell a good story about. And others can't be told because words miss it all- you had to have know the man and to have been there. UDT, surfing, restaurant chains, weight wrestling, coaching kids, tri racing with the best ever 20 years his junior, beautiful wives & generous divorces, great kids, VW buses and still as happy to be able to get up and see do what he could that day.
Taught us all about fear and commitment and getting after it. Proud to have known him and hope some of the lessons rub off.
In the early 80's he was so fast that before we knew him we DQ'd him twice on the general basis that people that age can't go that fast.
He was famous for his crashes and repairs. Ultimately his motion through space was a symphony of all the metal things that keep his pieces together or protected them from falling off.
I asked him for historical something for the Hall of Fame and he gave me his J. David Tri suit; arguably the most expensive piece of lycra underwear in history and he was glad to see it gone.
Some lives just don't sum up well - they never really did anything to tell a good story about. And others can't be told because words miss it all- you had to have know the man and to have been there. UDT, surfing, restaurant chains, weight wrestling, coaching kids, tri racing with the best ever 20 years his junior, beautiful wives & generous divorces, great kids, VW buses and still as happy to be able to get up and see do what he could that day.
Taught us all about fear and commitment and getting after it. Proud to have known him and hope some of the lessons rub off.
Remembering Ron
Reviewed by: Duane Franks, Jul 21 2011 9:50AM
I was neighbors with Ron in the mid to late 80’s while living in San Diego and enjoying the triathlon lifestyle. I continue to celebrate that lifestyle today and in many ways have modeled my approach to life, coaching and athletics from experiences with Ron. Just as he did in life, Ron’s passing has given some of us triathlon ‘old timers’ the opportunity to re-unite in his tribute. It’s great to see reviews from old friends.
Ron Smith
Mike Plant
Reviewed by: Marc Evans, Jul 13 2011 11:55AM
Thank you Mike...Ron was indeed a gladiator of a man! I knew him from a distance...but his presence was unlike any other. I can't think of a better person than Mike Plant to honor a legend.
Ron Smith
Reviewed by: Kent Howard, Jul 7 2011 11:12AM
Ron was my close friend and coach for 30 years. He taught me the value of health and fitness and how to really enjoy the process of training. Most recently I would see him in my office as a dental patient. Typical Ron at age 77 he was moving so fast his teeth couldn't keep up!! We would bond the teeth back in and remember the great times we had. We traveled to Alamosa Colorado for the national time trial championship we took turns driving non stop in my VW van. We did the race got in the car and drove back to San Diego. Ron was a family man, always talked about his 4 kids! Whenever I would see him he always asked how the family was. He told me three weeks ago that he focused only on what he did right no reason to focus on what we did wrong in our lives! Ron my friend I miss you already but you live on in my heart and each day I now focus on what to do right as you did. My tribute to you is to live as you did by example!! Love, Kent Howard DMD
