About Peter

The run is named after Peter Boyden, a long-time runner and active member of the NJ running community, who passed away suddenly last summer during a training run. Peter served as captain of the AT&T running team, and always offered encouragement to other runners regardless of their speed or ability. He would often remind people of his favorite saying from Confucius, “It does not matter how slowly you go, so long as you do not stop.”

The following was written by Dave Faherty for Peter's eulogy. Dave's words provide a wonderful insight into what Peter was like.

I first saw Peter in September 1999 while running in the Great Swamp National Wildlife Refuge. For days or weeks, we'd nod / wave/ or grunt casual greetings as we passed each other until one day as I caught up to him, I slowed a bit to say Hi. I was surprised to find that although he had been running slowly, he was able to increase his pace and run with me as we talked (mostly I talked; Peter was a great audience). Soon we were running together almost daily.

He labeled himself an introvert and seldom said much as we ran through the fall and winter. It was late winter when he finally mentioned that he had been running for more than 20 years and had run several marathons back in the early 1980's. As the weather warmed Peter began encouraging others to join our lunchtime run. To reassure them, Peter would promise to run whatever pace they wanted. There were days when Peter's group grew to a half dozen or more. As he got to know us better, quiet Peter became more and more animated as he encouraged us on our noonday runs.

It took a lot of coaxing to convince Peter to run with the Sneaker Factory running team on Tuesday nights. He kept insisting that he wasn't one of those “fasties”. Eventually he began to show up, but it was only after months of quietly running those tough hills that he joined us for our post-workout social of pizza and beer. As he became more comfortable, Peter began reaching out with his encouragement and wit and many Sneaker Factory runners became hooked with his charm.

I know that everyone that has run with Peter more than once has at least a couple of Peter stories. Some of them are funny, but most of them reveal a special warm human being who understood people, their strengths and weaknesses, and who was able to give support, kudos, and comfort as the situation warranted. My wife Judy has aptly pegged Peter as ‘he quiet Pied Piper’.

But even those of us who first met Peter as a runner got to know someone who was so much more. Quiet, quirky, thoughtful, sincere, funny, playful, good listener, sensitive, sentimental, flexible, a way with words: he could quickly cut thru complaining with a curt “stop you're blustering”.

He really cared for people – all people, but especially family. Peter was quiet about his personal feelings, but eventually I came to discover that Peter called his father in Florida often (almost daily). Peter was concerned about his sisters and brother. Peter really loved his nieces – he would light up as he spoke of them. And Randy (his lifelong partner) meant the world to Peter.

All birthdays were special to Peter – his and others. Turning 50 in 2007, he declared that March was his birthday MONTH – and the whole month was available for celebration. He later expanded it to the whole year. He loved the birthday celebration his family in Vermont had for him in Vermont on Memorial Day weekend because (did he mention?) his “middle name was Flexibility”.

Peter's sentimentality was obvious in his declaration that his favorite gift came from his niece Jessica when she offered him the opportunity to run the 2nd leg of the Vermont City Marathon two-person relay which passed by or close to the house where Peter grew up. (And run well he did! Their “Team Arugula” finished in the top 15% of all relay teams).

He sent cards to many others on their birthdays. I can't vouch for others, but I have received “birthday greetings” in the form of e-mails, electronic cards, a card in the mail with a $1 coupon for McDonalds, or a Superman trading card. Birthday cards for my wife Judy came in the mail addressed to “Birthday Babe” Faherty.

There are so many things we can learn from Peter. In an e-mail I received from Dave Schwartz, a former AT&T buddy and running partner, he wrote: “Peter certainly lived life on his terms – which is more than most of us can say.”

Peter always seemed to be OK with Peter. He was a positive presence – who will forget his cheerful “Have a buttercup day!”? He did so many good deeds quietly – no one will ever know them all, because there was little fanfare.

A couple of weeks ago, Peter was talking to my wife Judy about her struggles in adjusting to retirement and he commented that he was happy to have been at her retirement party and impressed with the wonderful things so many people said about her. Then he added, “I know that that will never happen when I retire”. Peter, I am truly sorry you are not here, but your family can bear witness to the tributes bestowed upon your memory today!

Peter, I miss you, and we all miss you. I thank you for all your gifts and all the light you've added to my life. I love you!

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Betsy McGrath, a co-worker of Peter's and fellow runner, added the following.

I really wish Peter knew how many lives he touched. And the birthday runs were so a part of Peter. I can remember him waiting for me one year on my birthday run at every intersection. Bob hung back with me until we caught up. And of course, we had to have cupcakes afterwards. Even when I'd had my knee surgery and told him “I can't keep up with you” he'd still try to get me out there.

Reading [Dave's eulogy], I had no idea how much Peter tried to give back to me what Dave did for him. Thinking I can't keep up or I can't do the distance, he never gave up on me, always encouraged me and took personal pride in every one of my accomplishments. He'd admonish me if I didn't tell him a race I'd run or a new personal record and allow him to post it in his newsletter. There is one special Peter moment that I remember. He broke a cardinal rule for me. He posted in his newsletter a really slow time for me (I think I was coming back from my knee surgery) as “Anonymus AT&T runner”.

Even the day we lost Peter he was his usual chipper happy self – dancing and singing. I gave him an iron-on transfer to make AT&T shirts for the Verizon Corporate Challenge and he went into a rendition of the June Taylor dancers (they were June Taylor iron-ons). My last memory of him and he was making me laugh. He was a buttercup – a yellow flower that brightened up your day.

Memorial bench on path near AT&T