When Bette Clark ran her first marathon at age 50, she surprised herself by qualifying for the Boston Marathon. A year later, while in training for that milestone, she learned she had breast cancer.
For many, such news might put an end to their athletic ambitions. But not for Clark. In the 20 years since she regained her health, she has not only conquered the world’s top six marathons but has also raised funds for cancer research, supported fellow survivors, and discovered the power of community through running.
Throughout her life, Clark hadn’t considered herself a high-performance athlete. Though she ran track in high school, she didn’t keep up with the sport while balancing a career as a psychotherapist and raising a family.
Her interest in running was reignited after she saw a group of runners gathering in Van Cortlandt Park near her home. One day, she decided to lace up her sneakers and join them—only to discover it was a 10-mile run. She stuck with it, even though the longest distance she’d completed prior to that day was three miles. By the end of the run, she was shaky, winded—and hooked.
As Clark approached her 50th birthday, she trained for and completed the New York City Marathon “as a gift to myself.” Then came the cancer diagnosis. She focused her full attention on her treatment and recovery. When she felt well enough, she rejoined her running group. The fresh air and camaraderie lifted her spirits. Listening to her body as she tested its limits motivated her to keep going.
When Clark ran her first Boston Marathon, she used the opportunity to raise money for Gilda’s Club, a cancer support organization. Crossing the finish line, she was swept with memories of the people she’d met during her treatment who had not survived the illness. “I was grateful for the ability to keep running as a way to support other cancer patients,” she says.
Over the years, Clark has devoted herself to causes that support cancer patients in a variety of ways. She has worked with organizations like SHARE, which provides peer-led support for women with breast and gynecological cancers, and Bronx Oncology Living Daily (BOLD), part of the Montefiore Einstein Comprehensive Cancer Center.
Her zeal for helping others also led Clark to volunteer with Achilles International as a guide for blind and disabled runners. In one memorable race, she guided an 85-year-old woman who had to drop out at mile 18. Rather than calling it a day, Clark saw her charge safely home, then returned to the course to finish—dead last but triumphant. “I was glad to finish, no matter how long it took,” she recalls.
Eventually, Clark sought a change of pace. She began running marathons in far-flung locales, finding joy on trails that wound through rolling hills, historic streets, and breathtaking landscapes. By 2019, she had earned the elite Six Star Medal, awarded to athletes who complete the six World Marathon Majors in Berlin, Boston, Chicago, London, New York and Tokyo.
Despite ongoing health challenges, including a few heart-related concerns and a recent bout with melanoma, Clark continues to push forward. “That last recovery took a lot longer than I’d expected,” she admits. But even with these setbacks, she remains determined to run.
“I’ll be turning 70 in October, and this year marks the 20th anniversary of my first marathon,” she says. This fall, she will achieve another milestone—her 15th New York City Marathon. The achievement will guarantee her a reserved spot for life.
Running has given Clark more than just medals and personal records—it has molded her philosophy. The loss of a friend and fellow runner to glioblastoma reinforced what she already knew: “Life doesn’t give any guarantees.”
Although her own mother’s battle with cancer drove Clark to prioritize her own health, she still found herself facing a disease she had hoped to outrun. “I did everything that was supposed to protect me, but I still got cancer,” she says. “It puts life in perspective.”
For Clark, running isn’t just about finishing races; it’s about perseverance, community and the pleasure of pushing her body. “I often see folks out there in their 80s, still training, coaching and staying fit, even if they don’t compete,” she says.
As long as she is able, Bette Clark plans to keep running—one stride, one trail, one finish line at a time.
Donna Moriarty is a lifelong writer, editor and author who writes about education, wellness, and personal development. She and her husband are Ossining residents, with three grown children and two elderly dachshunds. Learn (and read) more at www.silversmithwriting.com
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26 May 2025
0 Commentsturning adversity into a passion
When Bette Clark ran her first marathon at age 50, she surprised herself by qualifying for the Boston Marathon. A year later, while in training for that milestone, she learned she had breast cancer.
For many, such news might put an end to their athletic ambitions. But not for Clark. In the 20 years since she regained her health, she has not only conquered the world’s top six marathons but has also raised funds for cancer research, supported fellow survivors, and discovered the power of community through running.
Throughout her life, Clark hadn’t considered herself a high-performance athlete. Though she ran track in high school, she didn’t keep up with the sport while balancing a career as a psychotherapist and raising a family.
Her interest in running was reignited after she saw a group of runners gathering in Van Cortlandt Park near her home. One day, she decided to lace up her sneakers and join them—only to discover it was a 10-mile run. She stuck with it, even though the longest distance she’d completed prior to that day was three miles. By the end of the run, she was shaky, winded—and hooked.
As Clark approached her 50th birthday, she trained for and completed the New York City Marathon “as a gift to myself.” Then came the cancer diagnosis. She focused her full attention on her treatment and recovery. When she felt well enough, she rejoined her running group. The fresh air and camaraderie lifted her spirits. Listening to her body as she tested its limits motivated her to keep going.
When Clark ran her first Boston Marathon, she used the opportunity to raise money for Gilda’s Club, a cancer support organization. Crossing the finish line, she was swept with memories of the people she’d met during her treatment who had not survived the illness. “I was grateful for the ability to keep running as a way to support other cancer patients,” she says.
Over the years, Clark has devoted herself to causes that support cancer patients in a variety of ways. She has worked with organizations like SHARE, which provides peer-led support for women with breast and gynecological cancers, and Bronx Oncology Living Daily (BOLD), part of the Montefiore Einstein Comprehensive Cancer Center.
Her zeal for helping others also led Clark to volunteer with Achilles International as a guide for blind and disabled runners. In one memorable race, she guided an 85-year-old woman who had to drop out at mile 18. Rather than calling it a day, Clark saw her charge safely home, then returned to the course to finish—dead last but triumphant. “I was glad to finish, no matter how long it took,” she recalls.
Eventually, Clark sought a change of pace. She began running marathons in far-flung locales, finding joy on trails that wound through rolling hills, historic streets, and breathtaking landscapes. By 2019, she had earned the elite Six Star Medal, awarded to athletes who complete the six World Marathon Majors in Berlin, Boston, Chicago, London, New York and Tokyo.
Despite ongoing health challenges, including a few heart-related concerns and a recent bout with melanoma, Clark continues to push forward. “That last recovery took a lot longer than I’d expected,” she admits. But even with these setbacks, she remains determined to run.
“I’ll be turning 70 in October, and this year marks the 20th anniversary of my first marathon,” she says. This fall, she will achieve another milestone—her 15th New York City Marathon. The achievement will guarantee her a reserved spot for life.
Running has given Clark more than just medals and personal records—it has molded her philosophy. The loss of a friend and fellow runner to glioblastoma reinforced what she already knew: “Life doesn’t give any guarantees.”
Although her own mother’s battle with cancer drove Clark to prioritize her own health, she still found herself facing a disease she had hoped to outrun. “I did everything that was supposed to protect me, but I still got cancer,” she says. “It puts life in perspective.”
For Clark, running isn’t just about finishing races; it’s about perseverance, community and the pleasure of pushing her body. “I often see folks out there in their 80s, still training, coaching and staying fit, even if they don’t compete,” she says.
As long as she is able, Bette Clark plans to keep running—one stride, one trail, one finish line at a time.