Ron Barrera - Suffern 1977
Ron Barrera had a wild streak growing up, always seeing how far he could push the envelope before being reined in by the voices of authority. But the same internal flame that fueled his rambunctious nature off the track also propelled him to greatness on it.
“I’ve been told by some people that I’m intense,” Ron says. “I don’t try to be. For better or worse, I just am. That’s what I loved about competition, the intensity and pushing limits. A race always felt like a fight to the death. I loved to compete, not because I wanted to make someone else lose, but to be my best. For me, it was personal.”
Ron might have been marching to his own drum, but everyone within earshot heard the drumbeat. He ran with the confidence – some would say cockiness – of a guy who believed he was the best and relished every chance to show it.
At the 1977 New York State outdoor championships at Hobart College, Ron proved his mettle. That day he won the 880-yard run in 1 minute 53.7 seconds, which still ranks No. 8 on the all-time Rockland list. He also was a two-time County outdoor champion in that event.
Indoors, Ron ripped off some crackling times that remain among the fastest ever in the county. At the 1977 Eastern States meet at Princeton, he won his heat of the 600-yard run and finished third overall in 1:12.4, a County record that stood for 24 years. It took a state-record 1:10.6 (shared by two runners) to beat him that day.
In the Section 9 state qualifier on West Point’s then-oversized 300-yard oval, Ron sped 2:14.4 for 1,000 yards, which stood as a County and Section 9 record for six years and still rates No. 2 ever in Rockland. He whizzed past 880 in 1:56.6 en route to that landmark triumph.
“I would always have a ritual to psych myself before the race,” says Ron, who stands 5-foot-10 ½ and weighed 155 pounds in his prime. “I would find a quiet corner, sit down and visualize in my head how I was going to run it. I would always be nervous before races, but this was the one race where a calmness came over me. I was cool as a cucumber. It’s the only race where that happened. That race was totally effortless, like I was floating on air.”
Another memorable race was his come-from-behind anchor leg on the two-mile relay at the 1977 Nanuet Relays. In that race he overhauled none other than Kevin Byrne of Paramus Catholic, one of the premier milers on the East Coast that year. Ron’s competitive portfolio also included indoor County and Section 9 titles at 1,000 yards.
Ron got an inkling of his future running prowess as early as 5 years old when his mother, Nilda, challenged him to a race down their block in West Nyack, and he won. “I remember thereafter thinking, at school, ‘there’s nobody who’s ever gonna beat me running,’ ” says Ron, a Bronx native who lived in West Nyack for about three years before moving to Suffern at age 5. “Of course, my mother let me win, but I didn’t know that.”
While a student at Suffern Junior High, Ron recalls a Journal-News photo of his brother, Bob, winning the 440-yard dash for Suffern in a dual meet with his arms thrust skyward and index fingers pointed aloft. “I remember looking at that picture, our gym teacher showed it around,” Ron says. “I felt jealous. That’s when I decided to join the junior high track team.”
He found success as a sprinter before Suffern High indoor coach Joe Biddy pegged him as a future middle distance star. “Joe Biddy had a talent to get people to fulfill their potential,” Ron says. “He knew how to handle each kid. My friends and I were offbeat. If he told us to go left, we’d go right. If he said jump, we’d dig a hole. [But] he had an authority over us that we really respected. He could really get through to me … he helped me to persevere.”
Ron has fond memories of his days as a Mountie, clicking off the names of teammates like Matt Dwyer – his partner in high jinks then and still close friend – distance standout Joe Chisholm, team manager Hugh Goodman (another lifelong friend), Jim Spangler, Jim Demers, Myron Diaz and Jim Glover. He also remembers the latitude given by his spring track coach, Dave Gaunt, to craft his own training schedule, a rarity for a high school athlete.
Ron earned a full athletic scholarship to Rutgers but dropped out after two years and went to work in the family jewelry business with his father, Jim, and brother Bob. He later returned to Rockland to work as a construction project manager, and then teamed with his dad and brother again to operate a restaurant in Long Island.
Ron moved to the Philadelphia suburbs 13 years ago and currently resides in Harleysville. He has been divorced for seven years after a six-year marriage to the former Ruth Werner, with whom he has remained close. “She is a dear, close and supportive friend,” says Ron, who is 50. “I’m very proud of that. We’ve known each other for 32 years.”
A man of eclectic tastes, Ron is a self-taught guitarist who has been playing for more than 30 years. “I’m not very good at it,” he confides, “but I find it to be a fulfilling, fun diversion and a type of meditation in itself.” He also enjoys scuba diving – “for the thrill and adrenaline rush you get from diving in the dark and spooky waters of the Northeast” – loves hunting for antiques, reads 25 to 30 books a year, and satisfies his urge for physical activity with regular bike riding.
A chronic left-knee injury prevents him from running but that aspect of his life remains part of his identity, he says. “I can’t run anymore, but I’m still a runner,” says Ron. “A part of me will always be a runner.”
“I’ve been told by some people that I’m intense,” Ron says. “I don’t try to be. For better or worse, I just am. That’s what I loved about competition, the intensity and pushing limits. A race always felt like a fight to the death. I loved to compete, not because I wanted to make someone else lose, but to be my best. For me, it was personal.”
Ron might have been marching to his own drum, but everyone within earshot heard the drumbeat. He ran with the confidence – some would say cockiness – of a guy who believed he was the best and relished every chance to show it.
At the 1977 New York State outdoor championships at Hobart College, Ron proved his mettle. That day he won the 880-yard run in 1 minute 53.7 seconds, which still ranks No. 8 on the all-time Rockland list. He also was a two-time County outdoor champion in that event.
Indoors, Ron ripped off some crackling times that remain among the fastest ever in the county. At the 1977 Eastern States meet at Princeton, he won his heat of the 600-yard run and finished third overall in 1:12.4, a County record that stood for 24 years. It took a state-record 1:10.6 (shared by two runners) to beat him that day.
In the Section 9 state qualifier on West Point’s then-oversized 300-yard oval, Ron sped 2:14.4 for 1,000 yards, which stood as a County and Section 9 record for six years and still rates No. 2 ever in Rockland. He whizzed past 880 in 1:56.6 en route to that landmark triumph.
“I would always have a ritual to psych myself before the race,” says Ron, who stands 5-foot-10 ½ and weighed 155 pounds in his prime. “I would find a quiet corner, sit down and visualize in my head how I was going to run it. I would always be nervous before races, but this was the one race where a calmness came over me. I was cool as a cucumber. It’s the only race where that happened. That race was totally effortless, like I was floating on air.”
Another memorable race was his come-from-behind anchor leg on the two-mile relay at the 1977 Nanuet Relays. In that race he overhauled none other than Kevin Byrne of Paramus Catholic, one of the premier milers on the East Coast that year. Ron’s competitive portfolio also included indoor County and Section 9 titles at 1,000 yards.
Ron got an inkling of his future running prowess as early as 5 years old when his mother, Nilda, challenged him to a race down their block in West Nyack, and he won. “I remember thereafter thinking, at school, ‘there’s nobody who’s ever gonna beat me running,’ ” says Ron, a Bronx native who lived in West Nyack for about three years before moving to Suffern at age 5. “Of course, my mother let me win, but I didn’t know that.”
While a student at Suffern Junior High, Ron recalls a Journal-News photo of his brother, Bob, winning the 440-yard dash for Suffern in a dual meet with his arms thrust skyward and index fingers pointed aloft. “I remember looking at that picture, our gym teacher showed it around,” Ron says. “I felt jealous. That’s when I decided to join the junior high track team.”
He found success as a sprinter before Suffern High indoor coach Joe Biddy pegged him as a future middle distance star. “Joe Biddy had a talent to get people to fulfill their potential,” Ron says. “He knew how to handle each kid. My friends and I were offbeat. If he told us to go left, we’d go right. If he said jump, we’d dig a hole. [But] he had an authority over us that we really respected. He could really get through to me … he helped me to persevere.”
Ron has fond memories of his days as a Mountie, clicking off the names of teammates like Matt Dwyer – his partner in high jinks then and still close friend – distance standout Joe Chisholm, team manager Hugh Goodman (another lifelong friend), Jim Spangler, Jim Demers, Myron Diaz and Jim Glover. He also remembers the latitude given by his spring track coach, Dave Gaunt, to craft his own training schedule, a rarity for a high school athlete.
Ron earned a full athletic scholarship to Rutgers but dropped out after two years and went to work in the family jewelry business with his father, Jim, and brother Bob. He later returned to Rockland to work as a construction project manager, and then teamed with his dad and brother again to operate a restaurant in Long Island.
Ron moved to the Philadelphia suburbs 13 years ago and currently resides in Harleysville. He has been divorced for seven years after a six-year marriage to the former Ruth Werner, with whom he has remained close. “She is a dear, close and supportive friend,” says Ron, who is 50. “I’m very proud of that. We’ve known each other for 32 years.”
A man of eclectic tastes, Ron is a self-taught guitarist who has been playing for more than 30 years. “I’m not very good at it,” he confides, “but I find it to be a fulfilling, fun diversion and a type of meditation in itself.” He also enjoys scuba diving – “for the thrill and adrenaline rush you get from diving in the dark and spooky waters of the Northeast” – loves hunting for antiques, reads 25 to 30 books a year, and satisfies his urge for physical activity with regular bike riding.
A chronic left-knee injury prevents him from running but that aspect of his life remains part of his identity, he says. “I can’t run anymore, but I’m still a runner,” says Ron. “A part of me will always be a runner.”