Our columnist lost the man who paved his way four years ago. Also its path without knowing it. At a run remembers him.
Four years ago I received a message from Tom. It was some of the saddest news in a very long time. Tom wrote: “Hi Mike, Although we haven’t been in touch for many years, I feel the need to at least let you know that my father passed away from cancer yesterday after a six year battle. Just a few weeks ago we were talking about your success and your column. So he always thought of you and watched your way from afar.” I was sitting at a Toto concert when the news reached me. Toto played “Hold the line”, I cried. I, the world, had lost Harry. The moment of this message resurfaced in my heart yesterday because: My father called.
After a long chat he told me that he had found recordings of my first radio broadcasts and asked if he should send them to me along with my children’s photo albums. On a subsequent run, I thought about the time on the radio, about the message from Tom, and about Harry. He was my mentor at my first radio station. He was my savior in need. He was a fatherly friend. I would never be where I am today without Harry. Not professionally, and I probably would never have run.
Mike Kleiß has been doing sports since he was a child. “If you move, you achieve more” is his motto in life. Running was always his favorite topic. For seven years he has been running between 15 and 20 kilometers almost every day, often in marathons and sometimes in ultra marathons. So far, our columnist has published two books on running. He is the founder and managing director of the communications agency GOODWILLRUN. Mike Kleiß lives with his family in Hamburg and Cologne. He writes about running here every Thursday.
It was 1992. I was 22 and I was adamant that I wanted to be a radio host. I got a chance at the first private broadcaster in Saarland, I was allowed to do a test show on Radio Salü. Harry was the boss on duty, in charge of moderators, but above all he was a bear of a man and a soul of a man. I’ve never met anyone with more heart than Harry. With his Berlin snotty snout, he growled through his unbelievably thick beard just before the show: “No reason to be upset, Kleener. I’m here, aren’t I?”. With shaky knees I went into the broadcast studio. Harry sat outside. On the other side of the pane of glass. The station’s program director on the other side, with a stern look. The show was hell for me. I must have been incredibly bad.
Four years ago, when Tom called me, Tom told me his dad’s favorite story: “He always told me: Mike, when he had his first show, he was bad. The boss wanted to take him off the mic. Mike always gave me a questioning look during the show. I just nodded and gave him a thumbs up to reassure him. Did the boy sweat? But I knew the boy could do something. And he’s turned out to be a really good guy.” That was Harry. And there were a lot of shows that were like that. I panic. Thumbs up from Harry.
From overweight chain smoker to marathon runner – a success story
One day I belonged to the permanent tribe of moderators. And I ran. I ran at least three times a week. That was also thanks to Harry. “If you want to clear your head, Kleener, go for it,” he said. And what he said, I did. That’s how he laid the foundation. Sport was Harry’s motivation. He used to play soccer and cycle races. Tom told me: “In the summer, during the Tour de France, he was unresponsive. For him, the tour was motivation in the fight against cancer. There was a legendary scene when Jan Ullrich had to go up to Alp d’Huez on the tour. The hunger branch came and Ullrich’s trainer yelled loudly several times: “Torment yourself, you sow!”. He said this sentence to himself to the end.”
Harry Balkow-Gölitzer would have turned 73 this year. He has been living in Berlin-Lichterfelde for the last few years and has devoted himself entirely to writing. There have been eight books. Part of my story went with Harry. A part that has had a significant impact on my life. I became aware of this again during the run.
On a day when I had to record many episodes of my podcasts. Today it’s podcasts, it used to be radio, which doesn’t really interest me anymore. But Harry ignited the love for audio. That’s not all: If it wasn’t for Harry, I wouldn’t have run a single marathon, I wouldn’t have been able to experience all the runs almost every day like this. There are people who shape a life decisively, it was like that with Harry. I will never forget him. That’s how it works.
Read all of Mike Kleiß’s columns here.
