Bob Lida, acclaimed senior sprinter, ad executive and River Run promoter, dies at 83

When the International Amateur Athletic Federation held its 100th awards banquet in Barcelona in 2012, global track stars Usain Bolt and Allyson Felix were among the luminaries celebrated.

Sitting right next to them was Wichita’s Bob Lida, on hand to accept the 2012 Best Masters of the World award from the IAAF – only the third American to receive that honor.

“When you’re sitting next to Usain Bolt, that’s pretty good,” said Clark Ensz, a longtime friend and fellow running enthusiast.

Lida, a standout sprinter at the University of Kansas who nurtured his love of running throughout his life and eventually became a world-renowned senior sprinter, died Thursday morning at the age of 83.

An autopsy is planned, family members say, because he had no known medical conditions that could explain his sudden decline over the past month and his death last week. They fully expected he would bounce back and go on to set more world sprint records for competitors in their 80s.

“He truly was a north star for us,” said his son, Jordan.

At the time of his death, Lida held six world records and 10 American records in the men’s 75- and 80-year-old age groups.

“He was truly a phenom and some sort of a national treasure - an unknown national treasure,” said Steve Rainbolt, director of track and field and cross country at Wichita State University, who befriended Lida when he arrived in Wichita 20 years ago.

In 2012 alone, Lida established five World Masters records for men at least 75 years old: the indoor 60 meters, 200 meters and 400 meters, and the outdoor 100 meters and 200 meters. He was also a member of relay teams that held four world records that year.

Ensz said he had lunch with Lida several months ago “and he was still talking about breaking more records.”

At the time, Ensz said, he completely believed it was possible.

“He was just astounding,” Ensz said. “At 80 years old, he could still run 200 meters in under 30 seconds.”

Rainbolt said he left every conversation with Lida feeling fortunate to have that friendship, “and it was always striking to me that I’m talking to the fastest old guy on the planet.”

Lida is the only person ever to win World Master Athlete of the Year twice and is a member of the Masters Track and Field Hall of Fame.

Lida earned a nickname at competitions: Superman.

He hated that nickname, his children said.

“He thought that was so over-the-top,” Jordan Lida said. “I always thought it was funny, because it drove him crazy.”

First and foremost, family and friends say, Lida was humble.

“He would rather be remembered for his kindness and his encouragement of the young people,” Rainbolt said. “He was never particularly impressed with his own accomplishment. He never felt like anything he had done was special.”

But that’s because he would compare his times with when he was a track standout at Kansas, not with those in his age bracket, Rainbolt said.

Lida “just made you feel better,” said Wichita attorney Pat Blanchard, who was part of Lida’s running group in the mid-1970s, when running was something only a few people did. “He just had this great personality.”

A robust sense of humor was a pillar of that personality. Lida not only enjoyed ribbing others, he liked to poke fun at himself.

“He was so funny,” said Barbara Holzman, who often ran with Lida. “I mean hilarious. You would be around him and you would be laughing the whole time.”

He had the ability to connect with people of all ages, including the students he coached at Kapaun Mount Carmel High School in his later years.

“Even at his age, they just loved him,” Blanchard said. “He taught them so much…he found a way to bring out the best in them.”

In the 2012 Eagle story, Kapaun sprinter Hannah Bonger called Lida “that grandfather figure to a lot of kids on our team. I’m going to miss a lot of people when I graduate, but the biggest person I’m going to miss is Bob. There is only a few people that truly make an impact on your life and he is one. He’s my greatest role model.”

In a video recorded last year, Lida said that he enjoyed coaching at Kapaun “more than anything I’ve done in my life.”

It’s hard to overestimate Lida’s impact on the sport of running in Wichita, Ensz said.

“Running became a sport that was known in Wichita because of Bob Lida,” he said.

Lida had an illustrious career in advertising. His clients included Cessna, Wesley Medical Center and BankIV, which was a leading presence in Kansas banking at the time. Lida convinced BankIV to sponsor a running event during the fledgling Wichita River Festival and then set out to promote it.

“He put his reputation as an ad man on doing this,” Ensz said. “It was a big risk.”

Lida developed a promotional campaign featuring a couple who decided to participate in the River Run: a cheerful, fit young wife and her husband, who looked “a little dumpy,” Ensz said.

“The idea was, if this guy can run, anybody can run,” he said.

Lida set a goal of having 1,000 participants in the River Run on the first Saturday of the festival – double the four-year-old event’s existing record.

“I thought that was absurd,” Ensz said of the goal. “I argued with Bob about it.”

Back then, 100 people showing up for a race was considered a large turnout.

The morning of the race, so many people jammed the narrow roads of Sim Park that the start had to be delayed. Organizers ran out of safety pins and race numbers for competitors. They resorted to hand-writing numbers and having participants pin it on with their River Festival button.

About 2,800 runners competed in that year’s race – and the numbers continued to grow from there. Less than a decade later, more than 13,000 people registered for the race. Drawn by prize money, elite runners came to Wichita for several years.

Lida joined in that heavily promoted River Run in 1980 at the last minute just because he sensed it had become “an event.”

That’s ironic, because Lida’s demanding workouts in preparation for races would become the stuff of legend.

“He would go all out,” Holzman said. “If he didn’t feel like he was actually going to get sick” by the end, “then it wasn’t a hard-enough workout.”

Lida would sprint up the Soapbox Derby Hill in southeast Wichita as part of his training regimen. He loved those sprints, even though he described them as “a near-death experience.”

Lida would take the Kapaun track teams to the hill and run it with them, Jordan Lida said.

“These kids couldn’t even keep up,” he said.

All that work paid off, though: his friends have lost count of how many wins and race records he piled up in his later years.

“One of his favorite quotes was ‘Hard work will outdo natural talent every time,’” Jordan Lida said. “He definitely lived that.”

Heather Maddux credits life lessons she learned from her father for her decision to become a school social worker: hard work, humility and compassion for others.

“He’s just a good dad, period,” she said.

Though he was fiercely independent and always stayed busy, she knew that any time she called “he was going to be there for me.”

Imagining a world without him in it “is very surreal,” she said.

Holzman said she will miss watching Lida compete.

“He could turn it on like no other at the middle of the sprint,” she said.

It’s hard to put into words, Rainbolt said, just how remarkable Lida’s feats were.

“Truly a phenomenal record of accomplishment for a Master’s track athlete,” he said.

A memorial service will be held at 9 a.m. on Thursday, July 2, on the track at Kapaun Mount Carmel High School, 8506 E. Central.

Along with his son and oldest daughter, Lida is survived by a second daughter, Ashley, and seven grandchildren.

This story was originally published June 28, 2020 at 7:00 AM.