Paper: Oregonian, The (Portland, OR)
Title: The anchor leg in world's largest relay
Date: August 25, 2006

    

Hood to Coast founder Bob Foote, forced to face his mortality, prepares for the perfect handoff.

Hood to Coast founder Bob Foote was getting a haircut in downtown Portland by his longtime barber and friend, Richard Herrera, last summer when Herrera noticed a black spot about half an inch in diameter on the top of Foote's head, mostly hidden by his blond hair.


Alarmed, Foote went to see a doctor and about two weeks later, the results of a biopsy came back: He had melanoma.


With the diagnosis, Foote, who is 59, began to doubt he would live to see Hood to Coast's 25th anniversary this year. The event, which begins today, has grown into the world's largest relay race, drawing 17,400 athletes.


Struck by his mortality, Foote began making big changes to ensure Hood to Coast's lasting legacy. He made fundraising for the American Cancer Society a top priority. With ideas that include selling $1 hope wristbands inscribed with the Hood to Coast mantra "The Adventure of a Lifetime," the race will raise almost $120,000 for the charity this year, nearly double the 2005 amount.


Foote also found his successor. His 24-year-old daughter, Felicia Foote-Hubber, became vice president of operations in May. By next year, she will take on half of his day-to-day duties and could succeed Foote within five years.


"I thought I was going to die," Foote said. "I'm a fighter, but sometimes you can fight as hard as you can and you may still fail."


Years earlier, Foote had overcome systemic lupus erythematosus, a disease that inflamed his blood vessels and shut down his kidneys. He underwent two kidney transplants.


Perhaps he was extra-concerned because his mother died of brain cancer at age 46, but Foote said his mortality seemed more fragile this time.


He had been diagnosed with a disease that kills 48,000 people worldwide every year. Doctors describe melanoma as an epidemic with the fastest rise in incidence of any cancer, occurring more frequently in white men such as Foote.


A month after Foote's diagnosis, Dr. John Vetto, professor of surgery in the division of surgical oncology at Oregon Health & Science University, operated to remove his tumor and test to see whether the cancer had spread to the lymph nodes in his neck.


If it had, even with aggressive treatment, Foote had about a 50-50 shot of surviving, Vetto said. Foote tried to appear positive and confident to others, but inside he was buckling.


So Foote finished writing his will and made a deal with God.


He told "the guy above" that if he somehow survived, he would rededicate his fundraising for others with cancer.


More emphasis on charity


Unlike many road races, Hood to Coast is a for-profit business. It requires a $90 fee from each relay runner and collects $1.1 million in revenue from entry fees and sponsorships. Foote said the revenue helps pay for his undisclosed salary, three full-time employees and two summer interns.


A former architect, Foote left the profession in the early 1990s to turn Hood to Coast from a hobby he ran out of his basement into his full-time focus.


But fundraising had never been a top priority. The daily grind of the business --from fine-tuning each of the relay's three dozen legs to fixing traffic and portable toilet problems --gave Foote plenty to worry about.


"He helped a lot of people over the years, but he wasn't very charity-minded," said Gary LaSala, Foote's financial consultant and friend of 30 years.


Years of struggling as a freelance architect in the early 1980s made Foote careful about how he spent his money, LaSala said. So for many years, most runners never associated Hood to Coast with the American Cancer Society, a prime sponsor. And most years, the event raised no more than $50,000 to $60,000 for the charity, Foote said.


Then he became a cancer survivor. The week after surgery, tests confirmed his melanoma had not spread to his neck.


"I've been spared," Foote said to himself.


With his reprieve, Foote became determined to keep his end of the bargain with God. He and his staff brainstormed more than a dozen new fundraisers, including selling the Lance Armstrong-style wristbands, auctioning a guaranteed spot in next year's race (hundreds of relay entries are turned away because of the 1,000-team cap) and raffling off a coveted early start time (relay start times are staggered between 8 a.m. and 7:45 p.m. today).


As a result, Foote said he expects Hood to Coast to round up almost $120,000 for the cancer society this year.


"I won't be comfortable until I reach $250,000," Foote told the charity last fall.


Preparing new leadership


Post-surgery, Foote also became uncomfortable realizing that he had no backup plan for Hood to Coast should he die. Who would succeed me, he wondered.


"I had put a lot of heart, sweat and tears into it," he said. "I would hate to see it disappear because I disappear."


So on a Saturday afternoon in October, Foote called his daughter. Felicia Foote-Hubber, who is 24, had graduated from the University of Montana earlier that year with a degree in business and found a public relations job in Missoula for a school furniture manufacturer.


Answering her cell phone in the middle of a Grizzlies football game, she heard her dad ask: What do you think? Would you ever be willing to come on board, to take over the race someday?


Felicia had adopted her father's passion for running, joining him on three Hood to Coast teams. But Foote said he had always assumed that his daughter would want to make a name for herself in business elsewhere.


To his surprise, she answered, "Absolutely." It had been her dream job all along.


In May, she and her husband moved into a house next door to her dad's in Portland's Sylvan Highlands neighborhood. Since then, the two have worked side by side, sharing an office at Hood to Coast headquarters less than a mile away.


>From her dad, Felicia has soaked up the ins and outs of the business: how to negotiate with sponsors, how to handle thorny political issues, how to make tough decisions. Perhaps an even better education, Foote said, has been his grounding of Felicia as she grew up in goal-setting, self-motivation, how to lose, and never having regrets.


"He's a really good teacher," Felicia said. "I've only been in the office three months, but I've learned so much already."


His daughter's help --along with his experience with a life-threatening illness --has prompted Foote to slow down his schedule, something Felicia said he has never been good at doing. He spends more time with family and friends these days and takes time not only to run, but to hike and walk, she said.


"I rest a lot easier now," Foote said. "If I die tomorrow, I'd die with a smile on my face because I know this thing will go on. It won't miss a beat."


Boaz Herzog: 503-412-7072, boherzog@gmail.com