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
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Tags: Pedestrianism, Ultra history
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on Friday, July 17th, 2009 at 9:03 am and is filed under Pedestrianism, Ultra history.
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