Original article from New York Times on December 5th, 1912
Note in the New York Times about George Littlewood dying of consumption in 1912.
Tags: England, Pedestrianism
Posts Tagged ‘Pedestrianism’
13
Aug
The Pedestrian Mania
From The New York Times , December 1, 1867.
A kind of pedestrian mania seems to afflict this country just now. We hear of erratic pedestrians rushing across this continent in every direction, just as the recent meteors traversed the heavens. Side by side with telegrams announcing the progress of events in Italy we find, day after day, telegrams an nouncing that of a pedestrian walking so manymiles a day for so many thousand dollars.
Tags: Pedestrianism, USA
From The New York Times on December 2, 1888
George Littlewood covered 623.75 miles at Madison Square Gardens to easily beat the existing World 6-day record.
Tags: Pedestrianism, USA
The six-day heel and-toe walking-match between William Edwards, champion of Australia, and Frank Hart, the colored pedestrian of Boston, for $1,000, was concluded at the rink here at midnight last night, Edwards winning by nine miles and five laps.
Tags: Australia, Pedestrianism, USA
Article from Google Newspaper Database
This is from The Evening Independant on 22 March, 1927. Weston was aged 88 and struck down by an Automobile in a New York hospital. Read the full article for complete details
Tags: Pedestrianism, USA
THE WISDOM OF OUR FOREBEARS
by Nick Marshall
Last issue, a reprint of an article from the March 22, 1879 issue of a sporting newsweekly, “The Spirit of the Times,” provided ample evidence that the amazing 6-day efforts by athletes last century were indeed legitimate. They were contested on accurately measured circuits, and the officiating was meticulous. In other words, the courses weren’t short, and the laps weren’t miscounted.
Another reason some modern runners have been dubious about the 600-mile performances is the belief that pedestrians back then suffered from inferior shoes to what we have these days, plus the tracks or roads they ran on must have been very primitive.
Well, it ain’t necessarily so. Despite all the hype by shoe manufacturers over recent decades, who among us is truly happy with the products available these days? All this “progress,” and they still leave lots to be desired. I wonder how much better they really are than in the past.
During my own running career, there’s been one great advance in shoe technology. That was the introduction of nylon uppers about 30 years ago. Since then, the development of EVA and related midsole cushioning substances was a modest improvement, but an awful lot of the other highly touted “waffles and gels” seem to be more style than substance.
Certainly, almost anything would be better than running long-distance in 1950s gym sneakers. But walkers and runners a century ago were more sophisticated than that. Consider that in this era, some companies are praised for making shoes in variable widths. The thing to remember, though, is that once upon a time variable widths were the norm, simply because shoes weren’t mass produced. Shoes were constructed by skilled neighborhood cobblers to suit the needs of a particular individual.
It is safe to assume professional runners took the utmost advantage of this resource. I remember reading one account of a famous pedestrian who was met by a band of reporters upon his ship’s arrival in New York City. The story noted that after answering a few questions, the athlete’s first action after coming ashore was to rush off to see his favorite shoemaker. We can imagine the exacting instructions he would have given to his cobbler, in search of his optimum running efficiency. The result would have been finely-tuned footwear, soft and light, rather than anything resembling a crude combat boot.
As for the surfaces they ran on, the following excerpts will show that by trial-and-error, track designers learned from runners’ experiences. Early tracks were rough on the legs during ultradistance events, but the venues evolved to the point that by 1879 the surfaces used were also meticulously crafted to allow for the best possible running results.
They were not simple dirt. Not hardly, because even though it has a favorable image as a running surface, dirt can in fact be deadly. In his “From the South” column, Gary Cantrell once put forth the provocative proposition that roads may be softer than trails. He based this on having run a 48-hour race on an indoor dirt track at Haverford College in the early ‘80s. As Gary told it, he was expecting the format to be more forgiving of his legs than any road course would be. Instead, to his amazement, “the dirt packed harder than any surface known to man. That, combined with tight turns, produced some of the most grim injuries and most intense foot pain in the history of running.”
I know what he meant. I tried a 24-hour on Haverford’s dirt track once, with similar results. After leading through the 50-mile mark in a comfortable 7:26, my legs started turning dead. By 79, all I could do was walk, and I quit for good at 95.8. By then, even walking was so painful that I only wanted to get off my legs for a long, long time. Although there were hours remaining, I couldn’t even face continuing on to reach 100 miles. As I described it later, “It felt like every bone in both feet were broken.” To my amazement, too, dirt can be incredibly dense and hard. It might as well have been concrete.
The oldtimers discovered this as well. Nonetheless, they were smart enough to correct the problem. They lavished a lot of attention on the problem, and the tracks they eventually came up with truly provided their competitors with a tender, loving surface. Just as a major league ballpark requires devoted groundskeepers, these tracks were built with painstaking care to insure that they stayed in top shape.
In the case of the oval used in 1879 for the 3rd Astley Belt Championship at New York’s Gilmore’s Garden, the press account tells us:
“The track was built in the manner customary in this country—dirt covered with sawdust. These tracks are the best possible for long-distance pedestrianism, never wear out, and improve with each day’s use, but are a little soft at first, and should always be laid two or three days before the race, so as to be thoroughly rolled and beaten down. Owing to unavoidable delays the track was not finished until an hour or two before the start, and was a little soft during Monday, but by Tuesday noon was well packed and in good condition. No amount of treading down or rolling can ever make one of these tracks too hard. The sawdust does not pack like dirt, but always remains soft and springy, and, if properly kept, these tracks are the best ever yet invented for this use. They need frequent sprinkling, and the secret of having them in perfect order is merely to keep them just wet enough. If too dry, dust rises, and the surface becomes loose, and works into the walker’s shoes, while, if too wet, the moisture strikes through the shoes and dampens the contestant’s feet.
“In England the first experiment was made with ordinary dirt, brought from the nearest point, and some of the tracks used by O’Leary and Weston were like graveled garden paths, with numerous stones as large as eggs. Next the mold was sifted, and the result was a smooth, even track, but the ceaseless tramping soon packed them down into beaten paths, as hard and unyielding as a turnpike road. These flinty tracks are as unfit for 6-day tracks as a stone sidewalk, and soon wear out the contestants’ feet. Recently our English friends have adopted the ingenious plan of putting down first a thick layer of spent tan-bark, covered by two inches of silted mold. In rolling a sprinkled dirt rack, its surface stuck to the roller, and to prevent this they cover the mold with two inches of sawdust, roll it thoroughly, and then sweep off the sawdust, leaving the smooth, firm dirt track. The tan-bark underneath keeps it somewhat springy, and a track thus made is undoubtedly the best that can be made with a dirt surface. But, despite these precautions, the dirt gradually hardens, and at Agricultural Hall last November, when the tournament for the 6-day championship of England was followed by a second 6-day contest in the same building, the track was very poor during the second week, gradually becoming hard, uneven, and worn out. A sawdust track, well sprinkled and rolled for two days before the start will last for a month, and remain to the last, smooth, soft and springy. The only fault that could be found with the track used last week at Gilmore’s was that, not having been finished in time, two days’ use in the race put it in just the condition in which it should have been at the start.
“. . . . The surface of a sawdust track is always a little loose, especially when allowed. to remain too long without sprinkling, and small particles are apt to get into the walker’s shoes. American pedestrians have learned to protect themselves against this annoyance by wearing high shoes, fitting tight around the ankle or by fastening on their tights a flap which hangs down over the top of the shoe. Rowell was warned of this danger, but with characteristic British conservatism, was unwilling to learn anything from a Yankee, and preferred to go on as he had always done at home. As the inevitable result of this stubbornness, Rowell’s feet were, before Monday night, badly blistered by the sawdust in his shoes and the remainder of the race was traveled in pain which could easily have been avoided. Every time he went off the track his blistered feet demanded skillful treatment, and during the six days he must have wasted in this doctoring 6 or 7 hours, which would have been much more usefully spent in running or resting.”
Here we see that the peds had their own form of “gaiters” to keep debris out of their shoes, just as modern trail runners do. But we’ll never get to run on the artificial surfaces on which those pampered oldtimers flourished!
Tags: Pedestrianism, Ultra history
THE ACCURACY OF OUR FOREBEARS
by Nick Marshall
Doubts have been expressed by modern runners over the years about the performance totals credited to participants in 6-day races during the pedestrian craze more than a century ago.
In light of how records have dramatically improved at all the shorter running distances, people have understandably wondered why the standards In this event established in the 1880s remain “world-class” in quality. More men surpassed 600 miles during that decade than in the modern era.
At a casual glance, something seems amiss. Didn’t those guys back then have only a primitive knowledge of diet, and lack the benefits of present-day shoe technology and scientific training methods? So how’d they manage to produce such tremendous athletic results?
I’m an extremely skeptical person about many things. Oddly, though, I’ve always placed a lot of credence in the validity of the claims made on behalf of the old-timers. To me, these claims could be categorized as “awesome, but plausible.”
That is, they make sense if you take some unusual factors into account—factors which have not been operative in other running events.
Paradoxically, the primary reason for believing the old accounts is because of the presence of money. While dollars can certainly be a corrupting factor (especially in terms of the way large amounts of cash could possibly encourage cheating), in this case it is more likely to have helped serve a regulating function.
To wit, the headline races of the golden age of pedestrianism were intensely scrutinized. They were professional affairs which literally offered extreme riches to the victors. For a brief period, this type of ultradistance contest could make a person wealthy. While people who run for fun may feel the lure of big money has an ignoble taint to it, there is no doubt that it can be a powerful motivator for individuals who may be talented but poor.
As professional affairs, such races were able to attract some of the most outstanding athletes of the day. While baseball was a popular pastime, basketball hadn’t even been invented yet, and other modern sports were in their infancy, compared to footracing, which had been around longer than recorded history. The major six-day races received tremendous publicity. They were front-page stories, so the winners could achieve fame as well as fortune. Again, this was an extremely powerful motivator for someone to train as hard as possible for success, and then thrash themselves to the maximum in the event itself.
Still, while that suggests these were running events in which the competition was more deadly serious than anything modern ultrarunners experience, how can we be sure they results which emerged from them can be trusted in terms of their accuracy. Inasmuch as they were held at indoor venues, on short tracks, the sheer volume of laps involved in someone’s completing 500 or 600 miles offers plenty of room for errors. Many of us are all too familiar with how easy it is for lapcounting mistakes to occur in long track ultras, even on 1/4 mile ovals.
Furthermore, I’ve heard modern doubters express concerns over the simple trustworthiness of the track lengths on which they performed their feats. After all, they lacked the rigorous course certification processes which are insisted upon nowadays if times or distances in a race are to be accepted as accurate. How do we know they weren’t sloppy in how they measured a venue. Done casually, one could give a distance for a lap which might easily be off by a few percent. Multiply that by thousands of laps, and you could end up with results that deviated from reality by many miles.
The issue of measurement is an interesting one. Decades after the fact, we end up mainly relying on trust that a particular race locale was truly what it was represented as. For instance, Jesse Owens set some of his world records during college track meets. I’ve never seen their veracity questioned and have no reason to doubt their accuracy. Yet at this late date, I suspect the paperwork proving the college tracks he ran on were correctly surveyed was lost to history long ago.
Stuff like that is a backbone of recordkeeping, yet it is one of those behind-the-scenes technical matters that rarely gets noted for the ages. Even more transitory is information on nuts-&-bolts things like officiating decisions, or lapcounting procedures.
However, in the case of the 6-day races, press coverage at the time was so extensive that occasionally the reporting even included such esoteric topics as these.
I collect old newspapers and at an auction last year I was lucky enough to buy a big stack of issues from 1878-84 of a rare weekly sporting paper called “The Spirit of the Times.” While I’ve been surprised in the past by how thoroughly some 6-day races were covered by the general press of the day, I’d never seen any stories on these events which match the depth provided by this publication. Although “The Spirit of the Times” was mainly interested in horseracing, it would sometimes print columns of statistics on the big 6-day races, with charts on things like mile-by-mile split times, and hour-by-hour distance totals for the leaders. Nowadays, if you’d like to see what a Boston Marathon winner ran their 8th mile in, you’ll never be able to read that info in your paper. By contrast, old-time readers could find out that Charles Rowell’s time for his 447th mile was 13:04 . . . . and also discover that earlier he’d been off the track for 23 seconds during his 172nd mile!
This amazing trivia showed up in “The Spirit” on March 22, 1879. The story on the 3rd Astley Belt Race at Gilmore’s Garden in New York City the previous week gives the most detailed behind-the-scenes description I’ve ever come across on any race.
The extensive info proves exactly how scrupulous the officials were for this event, both in terms of the how the track was measured, plus the lapcounting procedures which were utilized. It’s nitty gritty stuff, the type of which you’d never see today. Yet it should lay to rest the doubts anyone might have about whether we can trust the results of these races from over a century ago.
Following are extensive excerpts from the paper, providing details on these aspects of the race. (Plus a paragraph on a subject race directors today certainly never have to worry about—crowds of gatecrashing spectators that had to be brought under control by club-wielding police!)
The account should give modern readers an appreciation of how well the best of these 6-day races were managed. They were definitely not conducted in a casual manner:
“The track was exactly one-eighth of a mile in circuit, measured eighteen inches from the inner edge of the curb. It was staked out by C. H. Haswell, the well-known civil engineer, and to correct any error made by the carpenters in laying the curb, he resurveyed it just before the start, with the assistance of three of the judges. The straight sides were each 191ft, 9.5in., the east half circle 138ft., and the west half-circle I38ft. 5in. To get this measurement it was found necessary to go out in some places two and even three feet from the pillars which enclose the inner circle. . . . The track was ten feet wide, and a stout railing set back three feet from each edge, fully protected the contestants from any interference, either accidental or intentional.
“A huge blackboard was erected at the east end of the ring, and every mile made by either contestant promptly bulletined in figures plainly legible from the remotest corner of the building. Every spectator could see these figures, and there was no need to ask questions as to the score.
“Just across the track from the scorer’s stand a place was railed off along the front of the boxes, on which each man’s name was painted, with blank spaces for miles and laps. Whenever either contestant passed the score, men detailed for that purpose hung up cards showing the number of miles and laps finished. This enabled each competitor to know always exactly how far he had traveled, and also to watch for himself that the record was correctly kept.
“The arrangements for the comfort and convenience of contestants, spectators, and reporters were better than at any previous race in New York City, and left little to be desired. An enclosure for the working members of the press was made just behind the scorer’s stand, with accommodations for twenty writers at a time, and a duplicate copy of the tally sheets kept expressly for their use. . . .
“The scoring was done by six of the amateur athletic clubs of this vicinity; each club serving one day. New York A. C., Monday; Brooklyn. A. C., Tuesday; Harlem A. C., Wednesday; Scottish American A. C., Thursday; Manhattan A. C., Friday; and American A. C., Saturday. Sometimes seven or eight, and never less than five, men were on duty at all times, and the tiresome work was done faithfully and correctly. Only one claim was made during the week, some parties thinking that Ennis had been marked one lap too many, but it is by no means certain that the claim was well founded. The thanks of the contestants are due to these young gentlemen, who, at great inconvenience to themselves, gave their time from day to day for the purpose of guaranteeing the score. . . .
“There was no referee nor umpire, and the race was controlled by a board of eleven judges, five from the staff of as many sporting newspapers, and one from each of the scoring clubs. Two or more of these judges were present at all times, and usually five or six were on duty. Some of them served a little time, some a great deal, and one, our neighbor of Murray Street, fairly lived in the building, and was on the track almost as many hours as the pedestrians. They took general supervision of the track and the contestants, and assisted in preserving order and ensuring a clear course. As far as deciding any claims of fouling or unfairness, their duties were happily light. Soon after the start Rowell passed O’Leary, and stepped in front of him, but seemed to think he had not sufficient lead to warrant this course, and immediately stepped out again. Just as he did this O’Leary stepped out to go around Rowell, and a collision resulted, but no claim was made. On the 54th mile, by direction of one of the judges, the scorers made this notation: “On the fifth lap O’Leary crowded Rowell out on the Madison Avenue turn, and nearly fouled.” On the last day, when Harriman, with ten miles to go, came out of his tent, almost unable to move, Rowell and Ennis successively linked arms with him, and walked twice around the track. As the rules demanded ‘traveling without assistance,’ men who were betting against Harriman and Ennis reaching 450 and 473 miles objected to this performance, and an appeal was made. As regards Harriman, the claim was just, but the depth of stupid meanness was reached in arguing that Ennis, who was stronger and fresher than on the first day, and had given, not received, assistance, should be penalized for a kindly act toward Harriman. Although denying the justice of this absurd claim against Ennis, the judges thought best to afford the betting malcontents no pretext for a quibble, and compelled both Ennis and Harriman to walk an extra quarter mile on account of the disputed distance.
“The management was intelligent, untiring, and thoroughly impartial. The attendance was unexpectedly large, especially on the first night, and no preparations had been made to accommodate and control so great a multitude. But as soon as it was found that full houses would be the daily and nightly rule, suitable arrangements were made for the comfort of as many spectators as the building would hold. So great was the crowd on Sunday night, that the doors were closed before the start, and the several thousand men thus shut out became somewhat unruly, burst open the gates, and would have speedily overrun the track and stopped the race but for their timely though unnecessarily brutal repulse by the police. As is usual in such cases, the ringleaders escaped, while a few hundred innocent but over-curious citizens went home well clubbed.”
[Next time: Modern runners may mistakenly assume that our ancestors always had to contend with inferior facilities. Uh, uh, that’s not necessarily true. They weren’t dummies, and a description of how their best indoor tracks were constructed may actually have you wishing you had such a nice surface to run on.]
Tags: Pedestrianism
The How and Why of the Oldtime
Six Day Races
ANDY MILROY
THE only ultra records to survive from the last century are those set in Six
Day races and many-modern ultra runners, aiming to tackle the new
versions of’ this event, have expressed considerable interest in how the oldtime
processional runners achieved such distances. I have attempted to examine
all aspects of such races and the preparation of the ” peds ” to discover their
recipe for success.
Reliability
Is there any point in considering such performances in the first place’.’
Were the totals inflated by-inadequate lap recording or undersize tracks? In
many of’ the major American matches the task of keeping score and timekeeping
was entrusted to officials selected from the local athletics clubs who should
have been independent of the management and competitors. The tracks were
measured one foot from the inner edge, or sometimes eighteen inches. They
were usually measured with surveyors’ instruments both before and after the
event, and cases of final distances being reduced or increased following
discovery that the track was undersize or oversize are recorded. However, some
people at the time expressed reservations about Littlewood’s 623 ¾ miles. Sir
John Astley wrote – I have never felt quite satisfied as to the correctness of
the scoring, though I know he was a very smart young chap, and perhaps the
prettiest runner of the set”. Sir John’s ideas as to the limits attainable in a
Six Day were perhaps conditioned by the races at the Agricultural Hall.
Islington, the foremost British venue. One Englishman who had lived in the
United States stated-Madison Square Gardens (where Littlewood set his
record) bears the same relation to it (Agricultural Hall) as a lady’s boudoir
in Fifth Avenue does to a log hut in the Western wilds.” I hope by the end
of this article to have produced enough evidence for readers to make up their
own minds.
How the runners gained experience
In these modern days where professional athletics is a fringe activity
occupying principally the Scots and the Australians it is hard to visualise the
state of affairs that existed in the 1870’s and ’80’s. At that time ” amateur “
athletics was the preserve of the upper classes. Any working class lad showing
athletic prowess very swiftly turned professional. George Littlewood for
instance was competing from at least the age of nine.
For athletes wishing to try their endurance in the popular Six Day contests
there was a chance to learn the “game”-almost a nursery for ” peds “. Out
numbering the “real” out-and-out 6 Day races were 6 x 12 hours and 6 x 14
hours events which cut out the unprofitable periods when the public were
scarce, were easier to supervise, and were ideal preparation for an all out
event. The race programme of an ordinary “ped”- Sam Day, with no
pretensions to greatness, gives an idea of how a young runner might swiftly gather
experience. March 1879 6 x 14 hrs. Lambeth Baths, June 1879 6 x 14 hrs.
Agricultural Hall, August 1879 6 x 14 hrs. Dundee, October 1879 6 x 14 hrs.
Birmingham, November 1879 6 x 12 hrs. Wolverhampton, November 1879 14 hrs.
Lambeth, January 1880 66 miles in 10 hrs.
The Quality of the Pedestrians
The men who tackled the Six Days successfully were no heavy footed
Plodders, for the unmatched prizes of the event attracted any athlete with
ability as a runner or walker. Had Salazar or De Castella been alive then
they too would have tried multiday racing. Pat Fitzgerald held the United
States Hour record with 11 m 60y. George Hazael the 20 miles world best.
Rowell has still to be equalled as a performer over two and three days. George
Mason and James Bailey who set ultra bests up to 40 miles also had a go.
Mason, in fact, was probably the best “marathon” runner of the day with an
estimated 2.45 en route to a 30 miles best (John Hayes-2.55 to win the 1908
Olympics). The best walkers tried the event too. Tincler, the world one mile
champion, Harry Vaughan, the 24 Hour record holder, and Littlewood attempted
6 Days; Littlewood with conspicuous success. With so many good quality
athletes involved it’s not surprising that the standards were so high.
Training
We are fortunate that in 1908 Len Hurst, perhaps the foremost long distance
runner of the day gave details of his training in a book written by Alf Downer.
Hurst competed successfully in a number of multiday races and was involved
in virtually the last flourish of Six Day racing-the 2 man 6 Day relay of 1904.
From his training, devised for events from 15 to 50 miles, we can get an idea
of that undertaken by Rowell, Littlewood, and other 6 Day pedestrians. He
first advised anyone planning to take up long distance running to take any
amount of walking exercise. He suggested a daily programme as follows:
Rise at six followed by a steady walk till 8.30. Breakfast. Rest till 9.45 then
walk till 11 a.m. followed by a three mile run. Dinner at 12.45 followed by a
rest on a bed until 3 o’clock. An hour’s walk followed by a three mile run.
Tea at 5.30 followed by a walk from 6.30 to 8.30. Finally relaxation until bed
at ten o’clock. This remember, is the training schedule for a top marathon
runner of the day. To modern eyes its emphasis on walking seems more
applicable to the Six Day, and it is likely that Rowell undertook a more
intensive version of the above. Before his major races he is reported to have
covered 40 to 50 miles a day in training, walking and running (Hurst probably
about 26 to 30 miles). He was also known to throw in the occasional long run,
and thought nothing of running up to London from his home at Chesterton,
near Cambridge (some sixty miles in under eight hours. and back again the
next day!
Rowell is also said to have experimented to find the most economical style
for the event. In the early 1880’s Walter George and he tried out running with
little or no bend of the knee, allowing the rear leg to swing naturally through
as the fore foot landed on the heel, thus practically running on the heels, with
hands and arms in front of the sides of the body most of the time. The back
leg would swing naturally forward from toe to heel without any exertion or
knee lift. This, George and Rowell practised in Richmond Park for two or
three weeks almost daily.
I have concentrated on Rowell’s training because he was the most successful
runner at the peak of 6 Day racing, and moreover, unlike most other peds,
does not seem to have used stimulants.
Rest / Sleep
Having locked at a number of 6 Day races involving most of the top men
there seems to have been a consensus that one could get by on about three
hours sleep a night. In a fiercely competitive situation this might drop to
to 2 to 2 ½, hours, but with a good lead, four hours might be taken. I only have
mile splits for a lengthy period of a race for Rowell and Littlewood, but
examination shows clear but differing strategies. In his great 1882 run when
he set out to run his opponents off their feet Rowell took half an hour rest
every six hours up to 22-28 when he took three hours sleep. He took further
half hour breaks at 32 ½, and 38 ½ hours before another long break from 41-03
to 42-20. Six hours later still sticking to schedule he had his sleep break from
48-20 to 50-35-2 h 15. The strain was now beginning to tell or else he planned
more frequent breaks, because an hour later he took 15 minutes rest, three
hours later a further 20 minutes, and on reaching 300 miles in 58 hours, another
half hour break. He then pushed on for six hours, took 40 minutes rest before
stopping for the night from 68-3, to 71-23 hours after reaching 350 miles. He
had taken 13 hours 22 minutes rest in 72 hours. He was inadvertently
“poisoned” with vinegar at this point, but it is likely that he had over
stretched himself with his fearsome opening day (150 miles). A schedule of
6 hours running ½ hour rest was also followed by Robert Vint and James
Albert for at least part of their record runs.
Littlewood’s 623 ¾ miles was achieved when 6 Day races were on the wane.
and his performance was not well reported in the States or in Britain. I do
have mile splits for most of his earlier walking record of 531 miles. His great
strength seems to have been the ability to bang out 4 ½, to 5 miles an hour pace
as a walker almost indefinitely. He rested only briefly for about five minutes
at a time and slept probably 3 h 45 the first night, 3 h 46 the second, 3 h 40 the
third, and 3 h 45 the fourth before a further 2 ½ hours from 107 ½ , to 110 hours, 3 hours
the fifth night and finally 1 h 50 from 130 to 132 h 20 m. A probable total of
18 ¾ hours sleep in 6 days. It is likely that his 623 ¾ miles effort was based on a
similar schedule. However, his rest total was only 16 h 26 in total so he probably
took close to three hours a night.
Pace/Walking-Running Ratios
The pace the peds aimed for seems to have been a top speed of 6 m.p.h.,
often around 5 ½, with occasional lapses to 4 m.p.h. Rowell seems to have
scored with his ability to reel off 10 minute miles for hours on end. His 1882
run, of course, violated this norm: 7 m.p.h. the first day, and by the end of
Day 3 he suffered for it. It is hard to distinguish on a sheet of mile times
between a fast walk of 5 m.p.h. and a slow jog of 5 m.p.h, but I have not been
able to spot any systematic pattern of slower miles and faster which perhaps
means the peds ran as they felt, walking when tired or stiff. When James
Albert Cathcart ran his 621 miles he apparently ran as far as he could for as
long as he could each day then walked. Ed Dodd and Tom Osler record Merritt
running three laps and walking one and Weston running two miles without
a walking break but apart from that I’ve not seen much evidence for drawn
out walk/run schedules.
Food: Drink Stimulants
In training and during the race diet was regarded as very important. Roast
beef, roast and boiled mutton or chicken, with limited vegetables and stale and
crusty bread was regarded as suitable to be washed down with bitter ale. The
meat, often in the form of chops, was usually taken before the longest rest
period. Meat protein was also eaten whilst on the move in semi-liquid form
such as mutton stew, calf foot jelly or eel broth using an invalid feeding cup
like a small gravy boat with a long thin spout. The favourite liquid intake
was an extension of this-beef tea or beef essence. Other fluids taken were
tea, coffee, ginger ale and milk, as well as more potent beverages. In an
attempt to revive the flagging pedestrian alcoholic drinks like champagne and
brandy was used successfully. Often more drastic measures were needed.
Minute doses of poisons like strychnine and belladonna were used, morphine
in hot drops and even electric shocks. Other means included mechanical
instruments like the scarificator used on Fitzgerald which jabbed sixteen sharp
blades one eighth of an inch into inflamed and swollen tissue. The pain from
swollen and strained legs was such that staggering pedestrians would hold
sponges soaked in ammonia to their noses to stop themselves from fainting.
Another favourite, legitimate restorative was the very hot bath which when
used on a tiring ped would “liven him up considerably, fairly making him
out”.
The greatest stimulant of all which made the suffering runners willing to
undergo such tortures and risks was the money. Rowell, at the height of the
6 Day mania won $ 20,398 in his first Ashley Belt race, and $19.500 prize money
plus $ 6,500 entrance money in the next race. Almost a hundred times the
annual average wages of the day! Even taking the financial rewards into
account the incredible determination and stoicism of an athlete like
Littlewood is amazing. The first time he passed 600 miles in May 1888 he had huge
blisters on the sole of each foot which by the last two days had burst and
were raw. His little toes had swollen and burst open so the bones were visible
and the flesh hung in flaps. On the third day his hip had been
swollen and inflamed with rheumatism. The second time he achieved 600 miles (623 ¾)
in the course of the race the spirit bath he was bathing his feet in
caught fire and caused a severe blister on his loot.
Clothing and Shoes
The costumes worn by the pedestrians were fairly standard, only Westonia
went in for elaborate clothes. They consisted of shirt and tights, with trunks
worn over the tights. On their feet were lightweight boots or shoes-special
running shoes had been used by professional runners for at least fifty years.
Howell wore lightweight running shoes specially made for him by his father
who was a cobbler.
The Age of the Peds
.
Apart from Frank Hart who was probably about 24 when he set his best
565 miles, virtually all the other top pedestrians achieved their peak
performances when they were over thirty. Littlewood was 30 in 1888. Albert 33
and Herty probably 29. Fitzgerald was 38 in 1884 and Rowell 31. Hazael was
37 in 1882. Of the earlier “record holders” O’Leary was 34, Weston was 40,
Gentleman was 39 and Brown was 36 when setting their best performances.
To anyone familiar with the ages of present day top 24 Hour runners this
would not be surprising. With the exception of Dave Dowdle, Mark Pickard
and Wally Hayward they fall into the same age group.
Venues
The two great venues were the Agricultural Hall, Islington, London, and the Madison Square Gardens, New York. The track in London was made of loam and fine gravel which was then rolled. The normal floor was probably dirt. The earth floor of the Madison Square Garden was specially prepared before the track was laid. First the ground was dug to a depth of twelve inches then broken up into a fine filth and all pebbles removed with rakes. On top of this a layer of tan bark and clay or loam was laid. (Tanbark was
either the bark of the tanbark oak which was used in tanneries and thus freely
available in New York, or else the pulverised wood of the tree). Thus the
three inch top layer was a mixture of plant fibre and earth, and provided a
spongy surface to run and walk on. Perhaps the nearest track conditions to
the old days is the track at Haverford College fieldhouse, Pennsylvania, which
was used in January this year 1983, for a major 48 Hour race. The track is
dirt on dirt foundations. Many of the runners reported rapid leg recovery
from the race. This is perhaps how the old time peds managed to cope with
several races one after another. Although running, indoors meant that the
weather was not a consideration there were other handicaps, such as tobacco
smoke, fog and dust which could make the atmosphere inside the hall very
unpleasant and even make the competitors sick.
To summarise: The old time ‘peds’ success was probably due to their
willingness to cut their sleep to three hours or less a night, to running to a pre
planned schedule of rests at least at the start, and to their capabilities as
walkers to push along at 4 m.p.h. plus. Perhaps the most important factors
were the chance of overnight wealth to poor men, who, to achieve such success,
were willing to put their fate in the hands of ruthless handlers who, of course.
were in on a cut of the prospective prize money.
One final point. Was the 623 ¾ miles the greatest distance the peds could have achieved? The answer is probably not. Littlewood, and probably others.
were content to break the record by a small amount, to leave it within reach
on another occasion so that another bonus for breaking the “record” could
he earned. Mike Newton’s and Tom O’Reilly’s extravagance in breaking the
modern day record by over seventy miles would have been regarded as most
unbusinesslike!
Daily Splits for 600 mile performances
Haezel 135 m 242 m 342 3/8 m 433 5/8 m 540 m 600 1/8 (107) (100 3/8 ) (91 ¼ ) (106 3/8 ) (60 1/8 )
Fitzgerald 126 m 226 m 336 m 447 5/8 m 536 1/2 m 610 m
(100) (106) (111 ¾ ) (88 ¾ ) (73 ½ )
Rowell 135m 240 m 346 m 440 m 525 m 602 m
(105) (106) (94) (85) (77)
Albert 130 1/8 m 238 m 348 m 450 m 545 m 621 5/8m
(107 7/8 ) (110) (102) (95) (76 ¾)
Littlewood 122 ¼ m 217 7/8 m 320 ¾ m 431 m 538 ½ m 623 ¾ m
(95m 1100y) (102m 1540y) (110 ¼ m) (107 ½ m) (85 ¼ m)
Note – I don’t have the daily splits for Daniel Herty who ran 605 miles behind
Littlewood. Littlewood also ran 611 ¾ miles in May 1888 and is the only
pedestrian to go over 600 miles twice.
Sources
Running Recollections and how to train-Alfred Downer l908.
Sporting & Athletic Records-H-Morgan Browne 1897. English, American & Australian Sporting Calendar-Jas Toulon 1884
Pedestrian Record-Lupton 1890. The Great American Sports Book-Gipe 1978.
Ultramarathoning-Tom Osler and Ed Dodd 1979.
Fifty Years of My Life-Sir John Astley 1894.
Bell’s Life.
I’d also like to thank Peter Lovesey for reading, the draft of this article
and his help and comments.
Tags: 6 day races, Pedestrianism
12
Jul
Pedestrianism
Ultrarunning and Ultrawalking before the 1900’s
Harpers Weekly Cartoon and story
King of the Peds
Old Time Walk and Run
Pedestrian 6 day News – 1880
Pedestrianism in London – 1878
The first ultra runners
Across America on Foot
Pedestrianism in America
Australian Ultra Running and Walking pre 1900
How and why of the Old Time 6 day races
The accuracy of our forebears
The wisdom of our forebears
The Pedestrian Mania
Pedestrians
Alden Partridge
Captain Barclay – 19th Century Super Ultra Runner
Edward Gardner
Edwards – The Long Distance Walker
Edward Payson Weston
Edward Weston
Edward Weston struck down by car
Exilda La Chappelle
Fritz Kipernick – Berlin Pedestrian – 1881
Flying Pieman
Frank Hart
Frank Hart by PS Marshall
George Hazael
George Littlewood
George Noremac
Mensen Ernst – 19th Century Norwegian Ultra athlete
Joe Scott
William “Corkey”Gentleman
Tags: Pedestrianism
11
Jul
