No Quit in Her

Eighteen miles into the Los Angeles Marathon, Sylvia Mosqueda was going strong. Her legs felt good, her breathing was relaxed and she had a two-minute lead on the second-place woman. So far ahead was Mosqueda, an unknown 19-year-old from East L.A. College, the TV commentators were writing her off as a fluke, a showboat.

Then, at the 19-mile mark, she stunned everyone.

She abruptly slowed to a walk, calmly made her way to the sidewalk, pulled off her shoes and socks, and happily wriggled her toes.

“What are you doing?” an onlooker pleaded. “You were winning by two minutes!”

“Winning what?” Mosqueda asked with her wry smile. “I didn’t enter the race.”

Sixteen years have passed since that spectacular training run--she hopped into the start of the 1986 race on a whim--and it proved to be the world’s first hint of Mosqueda’s potential. Officially entered, she finished second in the L.A. Marathon in 1987, third in 1990, and now, at 35, she’s among the favorites in the women’s race on Sunday.

“I’m from L.A., and it’s about time I get my butt out there and win this thing,” she said this week, taking a break from a workout at Cal State Los Angeles, where she emerged as a star runner in the 1980s.

Mosqueda is petite and wiry strong. She looks effortless when she runs. Her head never bobs, her shoulders look relaxed. She has a roadrunner tattoo on one shoulder blade and a cheetah on one thigh.

She’s known for bolting to the front of the pack, “suicidal starts,” some people call them. At times, it seems the only way she feels comfortable is when she’s running alone, free from the claustrophobic cluster.

Her coach, Jim McClatchy, lives in Houston, and she has met him only once since they began working together in November. They communicate by e-mail. He sends her detailed workouts. She replies with times and updates.

“I love his workouts,” said Mosqueda, who lives in Highland Park. “I believe in them.”

But it makes for a lot of solitude.

“It’s tough, because I’m out here alone,” she said. “You have to be a pretty disciplined athlete to do it.”

Sometimes, she’s joined by her longtime friend, Victor Morales, a former Cal State L.A. runner who mans the stopwatch when he isn’t trying to keep pace with her.

Morales knows better than anyone how difficult it is to slow Mosqueda. The end of one of her workouts this week was almost comical. Mosqueda wanted to run a 5-minute, 40-second mile, the pace she’s aiming for in the marathon.

First, she ran 5:12.

“This is what cannot happen in L.A.,” she said, shaking her head. “Bad, bad, bad.”

Then, she ran 5:13.

“I’m supposed to tell her to slow down,” Morales said, studying his watch. “But sometimes there’s no point.”

Finally, after vowing to run the first quarter-mile at a granny’s pace, she whisked in with another 5:12.

“When you have a coach here, they’ll stop you,” she said later. “They’ll make you do it all over again until you get it right.”

Morales doesn’t bother. He’s a friend, not a coach. “You’ll hear a lot of coaches tell their runners to pick it up,” he said. “No one ever said that to Sylvia.”

Marathons are a new focus for Mosqueda, who has tried several distances during her career. In 1988, she won the 10,000 meters and was sixth in the 5,000 at the NCAA championships. She has ranked among the top 10 women in the U.S. in several events over the years.

She has qualified for the Olympic trials four consecutive times since 1988, and in 1987 ran a 12k in 38:38, an American record that is three seconds off the world record.

Mosqueda recently decided to concentrate on the discipline because she has felt her strength and endurance increase over the past few years. She plans to run the Chicago Marathon in the fall.

“My body tells me it’s time to move up,” she said. “Women tend to get stronger as they get older; men get slower.”

Sometimes, when the barriers before her seem especially daunting, she feels like a hurdler. Her biggest frustration is her inability to find a sponsor. Lots of other runners--many of whom she has beaten--have lucrative deals that provide a stipend and free shoes and apparel. Mosqueda lives off her race winnings and a part-time salary from Run With US, a Pasadena running store.

“It takes a lot of motivation and desire out of an athlete when I could go out there and set a world record, and I know there’s not going to be anything waiting for me at the end,” she said.

Then, she floated a theory: “Is it because I don’t have blond hair and blue eyes? Is it because I’m Latin? I just don’t know.”

Morales, whose background is as a business consultant, helped her land a shoe deal earlier in her career, but that contract expired long ago. Lately, the two have sought potential sponsors in Mexico.

“It’s tough as an athlete not knowing,” she said. “What did I ever do so wrong that all the doors are shut? All I’ve ever done is run fast.”

That could be enough Sunday for the woman who grew up with five sisters in East L.A., raised and inspired by a mother who hasn’t walked for 30 years because of rheumatoid arthritis.

“My mother’s a very strong woman,” Mosqueda said. “My sisters and I got that from her.”

Mosqueda’s parents separated when she was 5, and she has remained close to both. Her mother, Dolores, has never watched her compete in person but will be watching Sunday’s telecast. Her father, Guadalupe, is a former boxer who lives in Mexicali, Mexico, and keeps close tabs on her career.

Mosqueda is particularly close to her sister Rosalinda, who ran in the 1994 marathon to inspire Sylvia, and finished the race despite never running more than a few miles in a day. Meanwhile, Sylvia dropped out after 16 miles and wound up in the hospital because of dehydration.

“I told her, ‘Hey, you’re bad luck,’” Sylvia said with a laugh.

Sunday, spectators will cheer as Mosqueda glides through the streets of her hometown. And she will appreciate those cheers, even if they won’t sound the same to her.

“I don’t hear anybody when I’m running,” she said. “I’m not looking for any flowers out there. I just run hard and focused. In my own little world.”

Alone again. Naturally.