Showing posts with label USA. Show all posts
Showing posts with label USA. Show all posts
Monday, 6 May 2019
Thursday, 27 December 2018
Sunday, 23 December 2018
Tuesday, 16 October 2018
Ann Trason
20th Century Running: Looking back at 100 Years of RunningWomen: #14 Ann Trason, Ultra Distance
No Distance is Too Far for Ann Trason
(reprinted from a post to the ultralist, Oct 1999)
No Distance is Too Far for Ann Trason
(reprinted from a post to the ultralist, Oct 1999)
The criteria for being one of the top runners of the century almost without exception include at least one, and probably several Olympic gold medals. Ann Trason has never won an Olympic gold medal, but only because none is offered in her specialty, ultrarunning. Trason undoubtedly ranks among the premier runners of the past 100 years simply by virtue of her amazing accomplishments, as prodigious as the distances she has covered in competition and in training.
Ann Trason’s specialty is so far removed from mainstream running competition that is difficult to compare her achievements with those of other runners. What is clear however, is that she is the preeminent female ultrarunner of all time. So far clear of all other female competition is Trason that in nearly every ultra distance race she entered, a women’s win was a foregone conclusion. The only question was how few, if any men would finish before she did. On more than one occasion that number was zero.
If ultrarunning is Ann Trason’s domain, ultra distance trail running is her passion. The rugged Western States 100 Mile is the biggest and most well known ultra in the USA. The event is stamped with her accomplishments. For ten consecutive years she won the women’s division, and in two of those races she finished second overall. As if that were not challenge and accomplishment enough, she twice dominated the Western States, with some 30,000 feet of elevation change, snow at the high altitude start and baking furnace like conditions in the canyons, less than two weeks after winning the prestigious 56-mile Comrades ultra in South Africa.
Trason was an age group track star just prior to the time women had much access to track at the schools. As a senior in high school in 1978, she ran 9:58.2 for 3,000m and 35:11.2 for 10,000m. “I was injured and I never could run,” she says. “Such disappointment. I decided to transfer schools. I went up to Berkeley and was running five miles three or four times a week. I just got involved in school. I never really thought about competing. I didn’t really like running on the track. I liked cross country, but they had me run 10K on the track when I was in high school. It was awful. My hat goes off to those people who do it. I think it’s a horrible event.”
Years later, she returned to competition. “I was intrigued by endurance activities like triathlons,” she explains. “I did a half IronMan in 1984 and I almost drowned. I can’t swim. After that I got hit by a car on my bike and I damaged my arm pretty badly and I couldn’t swim at all. My bike was destroyed. So I started just running.” There she found her niche.
“I wanted to run a marathon and I saw an ad for a 50-mile race. It seemed like it would take a little longer but it was the same mentality. That was in 1985, the American River 50. So I did it.” In 1987, she worked up the nerve to try her first Western States run. She didn’t make it. A year later, the same story. Then she went to Leadville, Colorado, for the annual trail 100 mile. She finished, even with having to cross 13,000-foot Hope Pass twice. “I’ve finished every trail 100 — knock on wood — that I’ve started since then. It kind of made up for those two disappointments.”
Trason has proved equally adept at road and track ultras as she is on the trails. In 1995 she set the world mark for 100-km, seven hours and seconds. That is a 6:44 pace for more than 62 miles. Or consider, it is like running a 2:55 marathon, then continuing for 36 more miles at that pace. No other woman has come within 25 minutes of that astounding time.
What is her secret to running so fast over such long distances? The secret to running long? “If you focus on the short goals, it goes by pretty fast,” she says. “If you concentrate hard enough, the day goes by pretty fast.” Sounds a lot easier than it really is!
As if just to be proven mortal, Trason has suffered her share of injuries. A few years ago, while undergoing exploratory surgery for another injury, doctors found her hamstring 90-percent detached at the insertion point. But soar with eagles again she did, returning to win Western States for a tenth time, then going on to win four more trail 100-mile races in 1998.
In sport, every once in a great while an athlete comes along who transcends his or her chosen sport, in a way that makes all others involved re-think just what is possible. In ultrarunning, Ann Trason has done that. By that standard alone, Ann Trason ranks as one of the premier runners of the century.
Ann Trason’s PRs (road):
5K 17:11 ’95
Half-Marathon 1:17:35 ’85
Marathon 2:39:15 ’92
40M 4:26:13 ’91 (WR)
50M 5:40:18 ’91 (WR)
100K 7:00:47 ’95 (WR)
12 Hours 91M, 1312y ’91 (WR)
100M 13:47:42 ’91 (WR)
5K 17:11 ’95
Half-Marathon 1:17:35 ’85
Marathon 2:39:15 ’92
40M 4:26:13 ’91 (WR)
50M 5:40:18 ’91 (WR)
100K 7:00:47 ’95 (WR)
12 Hours 91M, 1312y ’91 (WR)
100M 13:47:42 ’91 (WR)
http://www.coolrunning.com/20century/20th14w.shtml (for a complete list)
Running to Extremes
100-mile races test the limits of human physiology
BY ELLEN F. LICKING
 p;hoto by: Robert Kemp — USN&R |
Ann Trason at a weight check pointphoto by: Rick Rickman — MATRIX for USN&WR |
Ann Trason in the Sierra Nevadaphoto by: Rick Rickman — MATRIX for USN&WR |
Ann Trason runs farther, faster than most people think is humanly possible. On June 27, the 37-year-old Kensington, Calif., athlete won her 10th consecutive women’s title in the Western States Endurance Run, a brutal 100-mile trail race through the Sierra Nevada range. She did it by running almost nonstop for 18 hours and 46 minutes. The race taxes the limits of human performance, from the nutritional to the biomechanical to the psychological. Exercise physiologists have just begun to analyze the physical and emotional consequences of this still little-known sport, in which runners compete over distances substantially farther than a 26.2-mile marathon.
Theoretically, any reasonably fit person could run 100 miles, but he or she must train for it. After only three months of strenuous training, with runs three to five days a week that include one long session of 30 to 60 miles, the human body learns to use fuel and oxygen very efficiently. A well-trained endurance runner will have a resting heart rate around 43 percent lower than that of a sedentary person and body fat percentages 27 percent lower. Cardiac output, the amount of blood pushed through the circulatory system, expands by 75 percent, so that more oxygen is delivered. The amount of oxygen absorbed by organs and tissues also increases 30 to 50 percent, thanks to a doubling in the number and volume of mitochondria, energy generators in muscle cells. Trason says she not only tries to train her cardiovascular system but teaches her stomach to digest food on the run and toughens her legs to withstand hours on the trail.
Indeed, muscle cells work better with training; the number of capillaries multiplies, delivering more oxygen to the muscle tissue, while the amount of metabolic enzymes, proteins that break down carbohydrates and fats, increases 133 percent. Still, even the fittest have a hard time running 100 miles. “Unlike a marathon, where you can get away with less than optimal nutrition, the margin of error in a 100-miler is zero,” says Lindsay Weight, a physiologist at the Sport Science Institute of South Africa in Cape Town, a leading center for research on endurance physiology. On average, an athlete who finishes Western States in 24 hours burns 16,000 calories and sweats 4½ gallons of fluid.
It’s difficult to take in that much food and water, but runners must try. Of these two essentials, the most critical is water. “You basically have to drink from start to finish if you want to avoid dehydration,” Weight says. And it’s not just a matter of replacing water: In sweating, the body may lose up to 3 grams of sodium an hour, resulting in imbalances of the key electrolytes, sodium and potassium, that regulate cell function. These imbalances, if extreme, can cause muscle cramping, nausea, fatigue, and confusion. Trason avoids dehydration by eating salty foods (pretzels are a great source of sodium) and carrying water bottles in her hands so she’ll remember to drink every 15 minutes. In Western States and other races, runners are weighed en route and stopped by officials if they’ve lost more than 3 percent of their body weight, which is a sign that they are dehydrated.
Out of gas.
Staying fueled during an endurance event is just as difficult. The body uses three sources of fuel–carbohydrates, protein, and fat. At first, protein, which is stored in muscle, supplies 10 percent of energy and body fat supplies 15 percent. The remaining 75 percent comes from carbohydrates stored as glycogen, a complex sugar formed by stringing glucose molecules together in the muscles and the liver. After six hours of continuous effort, the body has consumed most of its glycogen stores, and body fat becomes the primary energy source. But because fats are metabolized less efficiently than carbohydrates, someone who doesn’t eat while running will literally run out of fuel.
“Carbo loading,” a common runner’s practice of eating a 70 percent carbohydrate diet for three to seven days before a race, helps stave off carbohydrate depletion by doubling the glycogen available to both muscles and liver. Eating during the competition helps refuel–but it may cause diarrhea and nausea, which occur when blood flow that would normally aid digestion is diverted to other organs. Trason considers nausea an inevitable part of racing. “The harder I work, the harder it is for me to eat. I just try to get down whatever I can.” That includes syrupy athletic supplements like GU and PowerGel, hard candies, and even Coca-Cola, which, thanks to the caffeine, promotes fat metabolism. In races, aid stations along the way provide salty, high-energy snacks such as soup and baked potatoes.
Mastering the metabolic demands of endurance running is just one of the sport’s many obstacles. A distance runner also breaks down muscle and tears up cartilage and ligaments. With each step, leg muscles and tendons absorb impacts two to four times a person’s body weight and use that energy to generate the force that propels the body forward. With time, the mechanical stress disrupts muscle fibers, tearing them in many places. In addition, a runner’s body starts breaking down muscle protein as blood glucose levels fall, using protein’s building blocks, amino acids, for fuel. This cannibalization causes further damage. The trauma can be severe; biopsies of runners’ leg muscle tissue after marathons clearly show necrosis, or cell death, and swelling. Muscle damage is rarely permanent, but it can take up to three months to repair. Runners describe the fatigue and soreness associated with this long-term tissue damage as “dead legs.”
Mastering the metabolic demands of endurance running is just one of the sport’s many obstacles. A distance runner also breaks down muscle and tears up cartilage and ligaments. With each step, leg muscles and tendons absorb impacts two to four times a person’s body weight and use that energy to generate the force that propels the body forward. With time, the mechanical stress disrupts muscle fibers, tearing them in many places. In addition, a runner’s body starts breaking down muscle protein as blood glucose levels fall, using protein’s building blocks, amino acids, for fuel. This cannibalization causes further damage. The trauma can be severe; biopsies of runners’ leg muscle tissue after marathons clearly show necrosis, or cell death, and swelling. Muscle damage is rarely permanent, but it can take up to three months to repair. Runners describe the fatigue and soreness associated with this long-term tissue damage as “dead legs.”
Long-term exertion also may damage muscles’ mitochondria, a process that is frighteningly similar to the damage that occurs with aging. In studying an injured 27-year-old endurance athlete, physiologists Alan St. Clair Gibson and Mark Lambert, both from Sport Science Institute of South Africa, found that the athlete’s mitochondria were so ravaged that they resembled those of a 60- or 70-year-old. Oxygen free radicals, highly reactive electrons that are a byproduct of oxygen metabolism, are a likely culprit, since they attack cell parts. According to Gibson, prolonged exercise may artificially age muscle mitochondria to the point that they stop working properly.
Sickening.
Just as insidious is the toll endurance running exacts on the immune system. In a 1987 study of 2,311 Los Angeles runners, 42 percent of those training for a marathon reported at least one upper respiratory infection in the two weeks before the race. After the event, 13 percent got sick within two weeks, while only 2 percent of the control group, which trained but did not compete, developed infections. Just how exercise suppresses the immune system remains a mystery, but there are clues suggesting that cortisol, a stress hormone, may be involved, since cortisol levels are 15 times higher than normal in post-race endurance athletes. Cortisol is known to suppress the activity of killer T cells and neutrophils, which combat infection. Damage to white blood cells by free radicals and severe nutrient depletion may also be involved. Perhaps the immune system can’t marshal itself to protect the body from infectious agents given its starved condition.
Weekend joggers, and even marathon hopefuls, need not worry that they are inflicting serious damage on themselves. According to Weight, damage doesn’t accumulate until a person has run more than six hours. “That’s why top athletes don’t last forever,” Weight says; an ultrarunner can expect to remain competitive for eight to 10 years. Trason plans to have surgery to remove scar tissue in her ankle, the product of years of high mileage, after this season and is taking time off to consider life beyond running, including whether she and her husband will have children.
Why is Trason so good, beating most of the men, including her husband (she was fourth overall in this year’s competition)? She does have a physiological advantage: She is very light, weighing only 105 pounds at 5 feet, 4 inches. It takes less energy to move a lighter body and puts less stress on bones and tendons. But her greatest advantage may be determination.
Western States competitors have to stay focused for the length of the race, which can take up to 30 hours, with elevation gains and losses totaling 41,000 feet and temperatures ranging from below freezing to over 100 degrees. This year was especially tough, thanks to melting snow from El Niño. Trason ran for about 20 miles on ice and at one point tumbled into a crevasse. It’s also possible to get lost. Trason’s closest female competitor, Corrine Favre of France, took a wrong turn at Mile 78 and was unable to make up the time. “Paying attention for such a long time is difficult,” says Jack Raglin, an associate professor of kinesiology at Indiana University who specializes in sports psychology. “The mental fatigue can be overwhelming.” Trason agrees. “You get jumpy when you get that tired, and it’s nerve-wracking to run in the dark.” For both safety and company, many athletes run with a pacer, a volunteer who helps keep them on track. Trason makes sure her pacer is well briefed on professional sports scores. “You get consumed by Western States and forget that there’s life beyond the race.” Trason also keeps up a running dialogue in her head to keep herself going. “After 50 miles your body just hurts. You have to keep telling yourself that your mind is stronger than your legs.”
(reprinted from USN&WR, September 1998)
Saturday, 13 October 2018
Pedestrianism and the struggle for the Astley Belt
Has to be edited.
Pedestrianism and the Struggle for the Sir John Astley Belt, 1878-1879*
by John Apostal Lucas
During the eighth decade of the nineteenth century, the American sporting scene was enriched by a series of five fabulous international pedestrian races. Sir John Astley, the English sporting Baron,
inaugurated the transatlantic six-day and six-night marathon races.
These quintuple struggles roused nationalistic pride and sporting blood on two continents, were witnessed by tens of thousands, and resulted in feats of unprecedented human endurance.
No more incredible sport event has ever taken place in New York’s old Madison Square Garden than that of six-day marathon running. Of all terrestrial creatures, the one animal officially having recorded the greatest feats of endurance running is man himself. The combination of muscle, lungpower, indomitable will, and powerful incentives is more than a match for any beast. No greater
proof can be found than in some of the remarkable exploits of late- nineteenth-century six-day marathon runners.
Pedestrianism, or the art of rapidly covering great distances on foot, originated in England. From 1765 to 1820 the names of Steward, Foster Powell, the legendary Captain Barclay, Abraham Wood, and Daniel Crisp were widely known to the sporting public of Great Britain.
Organized foot racing arrived in America in 1835 at the Union Race Course, Long Island on April 24.
Forty thousand spectators saw Henry Stannard exhibit “genuine Yankee agility and
bottom,” and become the first American to run 10 miles in less than an hour.
On October 16 and November 19, 1844, two international *The Research Quarterly, 39 (October 1968), 587-594.10 / John Apostal Lucas long-distance matches took place at the Beacon Course near New York City. The London and New York press considered them headline news.
Between 1845 and 1862, two Americans traveled to England for a series of profitable races. William Howitt, alias William Jackson, better known as “The American Deer,” and Louis Bennett, who took the pseudonym “Deerfoot,” rewrote the record book at distances up to 20 miles.
The arrival of Edward Payson Weston marked a new era in American pedestrianism. From 1861 until his last race in 1913, it is estimated that he covered over one hundred thousand miles in competitive pedestrian tramps. It was Weston who first accomplished 500 miles on an indoor track in less than six days and six nights.
Forty thousand spectators saw Henry Stannard exhibit “genuine Yankee agility and
bottom,” and become the first American to run 10 miles in less than an hour.
On October 16 and November 19, 1844, two international *The Research Quarterly, 39 (October 1968), 587-594.10 / John Apostal Lucas long-distance matches took place at the Beacon Course near New York City. The London and New York press considered them headline news.
Between 1845 and 1862, two Americans traveled to England for a series of profitable races. William Howitt, alias William Jackson, better known as “The American Deer,” and Louis Bennett, who took the pseudonym “Deerfoot,” rewrote the record book at distances up to 20 miles.
The arrival of Edward Payson Weston marked a new era in American pedestrianism. From 1861 until his last race in 1913, it is estimated that he covered over one hundred thousand miles in competitive pedestrian tramps. It was Weston who first accomplished 500 miles on an indoor track in less than six days and six nights.
For one brief decade, 1875-1885, the professional sport of pedestrianism reached heights of intense interest in several of themajor cities of the United States. The five contests for the famous
Sir John Astley Belt d uring 1878 and 1879 brought together the finest walkers and runners from Europe and America in a sort of international “world series.” Never before or since has the harsh
and peculiar art of alternately walking and running hundreds of miles been so popular.
Sir John Dugdale Astley, Baronet, member of the British parliament, announced in January, 1878, a series of six-day “go-as-you please” walking and running contests for the “long distance challenge championship of the world.” Sir John, the “Sporting Baron,” guaranteed $4,000 in prizes and a belt of great price and beauty to the winner of the first match. Each of the proposed five contests
was to be carried on with the understanding that the winner was to defend his claim against anyone, of any nationalit y, “civilized or barbarian.” The stage was set. Tens of thousands of Londoners and
New Yorkers crowded Agricultural Hall and Gilmore’s Madison Square Garden during the five races spread over an 18-month period.
The First Astley Belt Competition
Preparations had been completed in London for the clash of England’s best versus Daniel O’Leary, the undefeated Irish-American race walker. He had emigrated to America in 1866 and immediately gained fame for his feats of endurance. In April 1875, he became the second man ever to cover 500 miles on an indoor track during a six-day and six-night marathon contest. He duplicated
the feat in November of that year, winning $5,000 and vanquishing the great Edward Payson Weston with a score of 501 1/4 miles.
Seventeen Englishmen began walking on a track measuring seven laps to the mile while O’Leary walked in solitary splendor on an inner track measuring eight laps to the mile. The scene was laid in London’s Agricultural Hall. Trainers, coaches, advisers, masseurs, physicians, dieticians and chefs, timers, lap counters, and judges all were on hand to play their respective roles. The English
sport had reached a point of sophistication that was the envy of its American counterpart. At 1 a.m., Monday morning, March 18,1878, the race began. The athletes tramped endlessly and in the
beginning, effortle ssly, around the circular path. They rarely rested more than a few hours of every twenty-four.
At one o’clock on the morning of March 23, Daniel O’Leary had covered 457 miles and was resting in his tent located on the infield. Harry Vaughan of Chester, England, had closed the gap by completing 443 miles and three laps. The Englishman “Blower” Brown wasin third place, with more than 400 miles. O’Leary resumed running but was soon near collapse. He managed to hold off both Englishmen and at noon was 21 miles in the lead. Hopes of a close finish were dashed when Vaughan was forced to stumble to his tent and rest, being absent from the track exactly fifty-one minutes. O’Leary now held a 24-mile lead and, though in great pain, kept moving.
There were nine hours remaining in the short week of 144 hours. Vaughan got within 20 miles of O’Leary at 6 p.m.. By 7 p.m. it was 497 miles for Vaughan and 516 miles for O’Leary. At exactly 7:38p.m. Vaughan completed his 500 th mile amidst great cheers from the
partisan crowd. The ordeal finally ended with O’Leary’s winning total of 520 miles completed in 139 hours.
Vaughan had scaled Olympian heights in surpassing 500 miles while the colorful veteran, “Blower” Brown, had a hard-earned total of 477 miles. None of the others finished and therefore they earned no prize money. Daniel O’Leary took his small fortune and already famous Astley Belt home to Chicago
and declared he would not part with it “till some better man come and fetch it away.” Sir John’s belt was made of five solid plates of silver with a solid gold buckle in the center. The gold centerpiece contained the words “Long Distance Champion of the World,” while the fine silverwork showed figures of walkers and runners.
Second Encounter for the Astley Belt
and declared he would not part with it “till some better man come and fetch it away.” Sir John’s belt was made of five solid plates of silver with a solid gold buckle in the center. The gold centerpiece contained the words “Long Distance Champion of the World,” while the fine silverwork showed figures of walkers and runners.
Second Encounter for the Astley Belt
Sir John Astley decreed that Daniel O’Leary’s newest challenger would be John Hughes, the well-known New Yorker, by way of Tipperary, Ireland. The match was scheduled in New York from September 30 to October 5, 1878. The belt, a $10,000 first prize, a generous portion of the gate receipts, side-bets, and the adulation of the mob awaited the winner. Over 30,000 spectators found their way into Madison Square Garden during the abbreviated week’s contest. O’Leary, the “perfect runner,” completely outclassed his rival and returned home a wealthy man.
At the start of the unusual two-man affair, O’Leary struck off at a long body-swinging walk while Hughes fled the first five miles in thirty-five minutes and forty-one seconds, two miles ahead of
his rival. There were two tracks, O’Leary selecting the longer oneeighth of a mile surface, while Hughes worked on the inner ninelaps-to-the-mile track. Members of the Harlem Athletic Club kept the scores in three separate books, each lap being called out distinctly to both men. Hughes had a tent erected at one end of the arena, where he was attended by his wife and trainer. O’Leary occupied one of the rooms in the main building.
his rival. There were two tracks, O’Leary selecting the longer oneeighth of a mile surface, while Hughes worked on the inner ninelaps-to-the-mile track. Members of the Harlem Athletic Club kept the scores in three separate books, each lap being called out distinctly to both men. Hughes had a tent erected at one end of the arena, where he was attended by his wife and trainer. O’Leary occupied one of the rooms in the main building.
It was evident that the champion was working more to beat Hughes than to break any records. The match was concluded at eleven o’clock on Saturday night, October 5th, by which time O’Leary had covered 403 miles and Hughes 310. During the last hours, a gold watch was presented the winner, to add to his already impressive earnings.
The Crucial Third Match
One more victory and O’Leary would be permanent owner of thecoveted Astley Belt. Ever since it had left the United Kingdom, English pedestrians had anxiously inquired as to who should attempt
regaining the prize. Sir John consulted with his sporting friends, Lord Balfour and the Prince of Wales. Both enthusiastically endorsed young Charles Rowell, boat keeper and part-time pedestrian, who was destined to be one of England’s greatest nineteenth century athletes.
Four athletes took their places at the starting line at 1 a.m., March 10, 1879. Madison Square Garden was jammed at this incongruous hour. The police had difficulty restraining a mob of several thousand
that had been refused admittance. The thirty-one year old Daniel O’Leary, 5’8”, 148 pounds, was on hand to defend his championship belt. The tiny twenty-five year old ex-boatman, Charles Rowell, was a “sprinter” at 20-50-mile races and had never attempted a six-day “go-as-you-please” grind. John Ennis, thirty-seven, veteran walker, had had but one experience at this type of major competition. The fourth man was Charles A. Harriman, a young man, big for the sport at 6’ ½” and 170 pounds. His reputation had been made as Massachusetts champion at 100-mile and 36-hour runs.
One more victory and O’Leary would be permanent owner of thecoveted Astley Belt. Ever since it had left the United Kingdom, English pedestrians had anxiously inquired as to who should attempt
regaining the prize. Sir John consulted with his sporting friends, Lord Balfour and the Prince of Wales. Both enthusiastically endorsed young Charles Rowell, boat keeper and part-time pedestrian, who was destined to be one of England’s greatest nineteenth century athletes.
Four athletes took their places at the starting line at 1 a.m., March 10, 1879. Madison Square Garden was jammed at this incongruous hour. The police had difficulty restraining a mob of several thousand
that had been refused admittance. The thirty-one year old Daniel O’Leary, 5’8”, 148 pounds, was on hand to defend his championship belt. The tiny twenty-five year old ex-boatman, Charles Rowell, was a “sprinter” at 20-50-mile races and had never attempted a six-day “go-as-you-please” grind. John Ennis, thirty-seven, veteran walker, had had but one experience at this type of major competition. The fourth man was Charles A. Harriman, a young man, big for the sport at 6’ ½” and 170 pounds. His reputation had been made as Massachusetts champion at 100-mile and 36-hour runs.
The most competent judges in the city were on hand, including the famous American sportsman, William B. Curtis. Hourly bulletins of the pedestrians’ progress were posted in the city’s hotels,
barbershops, barrooms, cigar stores, and corner grocery stores. The New York press carried daily, full-page spreads of the world’s championship match. As soon as the race began it became evident Pedestrianism that O’Leary was not well and by Wednesday he was unable to rest
or retain food. The Irish-American champion was forced to retire with only 215 miles, but denied persistent rumors that he had been drugged. The three remaining runners were averaging eighty
miles a day through Thursday.
On Friday morning, although the admission fee had been raised to one dollar, the crowds increased. Amidst cheers and the beat of the band, the trio walked and ran endlessly around the sawdust tanbark track. By Friday evening, Rowell had accumulated 417 miles to 390 for Harriman and 387 for John Ennis. The final day was Saturday and the unruly crowd spilled onto the track and
taunted the plucky Rowell. Both Ennis and Harriman instantly addressed the audience and threatened to abandon the contest should harm come to the leader of the race. The three men clasped hands
amidst thunderous applause and circled the track together.
As always, the exhausting extended marathon had taken its toll. At 8:45 p.m., Saturday evening, an utterly spent Harriman stopped the self-inflicted torture as he completed his 450th mile. At 9 p.m.,
Charles Rowell completed 500 miles amidst “utmost enthusiasm”
and stopped. Ennis kept at it. The veteran, who was to continue competing well into the next century, was presented with flowers as he completed his 474th mile. In appreciation, he immediately began sprinting. The delighted crowd cheered as he spun around the track, racing the last mile in 6 minutes and 55 seconds.
barbershops, barrooms, cigar stores, and corner grocery stores. The New York press carried daily, full-page spreads of the world’s championship match. As soon as the race began it became evident Pedestrianism that O’Leary was not well and by Wednesday he was unable to rest
or retain food. The Irish-American champion was forced to retire with only 215 miles, but denied persistent rumors that he had been drugged. The three remaining runners were averaging eighty
miles a day through Thursday.
On Friday morning, although the admission fee had been raised to one dollar, the crowds increased. Amidst cheers and the beat of the band, the trio walked and ran endlessly around the sawdust tanbark track. By Friday evening, Rowell had accumulated 417 miles to 390 for Harriman and 387 for John Ennis. The final day was Saturday and the unruly crowd spilled onto the track and
taunted the plucky Rowell. Both Ennis and Harriman instantly addressed the audience and threatened to abandon the contest should harm come to the leader of the race. The three men clasped hands
amidst thunderous applause and circled the track together.
As always, the exhausting extended marathon had taken its toll. At 8:45 p.m., Saturday evening, an utterly spent Harriman stopped the self-inflicted torture as he completed his 450th mile. At 9 p.m.,
Charles Rowell completed 500 miles amidst “utmost enthusiasm”
and stopped. Ennis kept at it. The veteran, who was to continue competing well into the next century, was presented with flowers as he completed his 474th mile. In appreciation, he immediately began sprinting. The delighted crowd cheered as he spun around the track, racing the last mile in 6 minutes and 55 seconds.
The unprecedented throngs resulted in a fantastic $20,000 being paid to the new champion, Charles Rowell. Ennis took home $11,800, while Harriman was content with $8,200. Rowell, the
man who could “strike a 7 mph dog trot and keep it up for an interminable period,” had won a fortune. As he left the stadium draped in the American flag and weighted down with the gold and
silver belt, Sir John was heard to quip that it was, “a pretty good haul for a man who seldom had two sovereigns to rub against each other.
Waiting at the exit to immediately lodge a formal challenge was possibly the greatest pedestrian the world has ever known, the American, Edward Payson Weston.
man who could “strike a 7 mph dog trot and keep it up for an interminable period,” had won a fortune. As he left the stadium draped in the American flag and weighted down with the gold and
silver belt, Sir John was heard to quip that it was, “a pretty good haul for a man who seldom had two sovereigns to rub against each other.
Waiting at the exit to immediately lodge a formal challenge was possibly the greatest pedestrian the world has ever known, the American, Edward Payson Weston.
Weston and the Fourth Astley Belt
Edward Payson Weston was the supreme showman of the pedestrian world and he was ready for this race. Born in Providence, Rhode Island, on March 15, 1839, he was the most famous “ped”
in the world, and was known as the “Father of American Pedestrianism.” His record-breaking feats of endurance on two continents were legendary. He could sprint a hundred miles with the
best or walk twenty hours a day for a month. During the drama of the third Astley Belt match, Weston was engaged in an incredible journey on foot throughout Great Britain. He walked 2,000 miles in exactly 1,000 hours, a physical feat of nearly unbelievable proportions. During that time, he never walked on Sundays and he delivered a brief temperance lecture in almost every community
he passed through.
In April 1879, Weston finished fifth in a sixday go-as-you-please race in London. He totaled 450 miles, while the winner, the indefatigable “Blower” Brown, logged an impressive and record-breaking 542 miles. The fourth match began on Monday morning, June 16, 1879, at
Agricultural Hall, London. Four contestants were prepared to match strides with one another. “Blower” Brown was installed as favorite.
Weston was the choice of Sir John. John Ennis and William E. Harding were on hand for a piece of the money. The great Charles Rowell sat glumly in the audience, having “run a peg into his right heel,” while the physically exhausted Daniel O’Leary had temporarily retired.
Edward Payson Weston was the supreme showman of the pedestrian world and he was ready for this race. Born in Providence, Rhode Island, on March 15, 1839, he was the most famous “ped”
in the world, and was known as the “Father of American Pedestrianism.” His record-breaking feats of endurance on two continents were legendary. He could sprint a hundred miles with the
best or walk twenty hours a day for a month. During the drama of the third Astley Belt match, Weston was engaged in an incredible journey on foot throughout Great Britain. He walked 2,000 miles in exactly 1,000 hours, a physical feat of nearly unbelievable proportions. During that time, he never walked on Sundays and he delivered a brief temperance lecture in almost every community
he passed through.
In April 1879, Weston finished fifth in a sixday go-as-you-please race in London. He totaled 450 miles, while the winner, the indefatigable “Blower” Brown, logged an impressive and record-breaking 542 miles. The fourth match began on Monday morning, June 16, 1879, at
Agricultural Hall, London. Four contestants were prepared to match strides with one another. “Blower” Brown was installed as favorite.
Weston was the choice of Sir John. John Ennis and William E. Harding were on hand for a piece of the money. The great Charles Rowell sat glumly in the audience, having “run a peg into his right heel,” while the physically exhausted Daniel O’Leary had temporarily retired.
Weston, the temperate health faddist, could run as well as walk and he charged through 120 miles in the first day. The magnificent Brown kept with him every mile. By Tuesday, Harding was
already “looking very queer,” and Ennis was seized with cramps.
On Wednesday morning at the impossible hour of 3 a.m., Brown wrested the lead from Weston, opening a gap of 7 miles with a total of 227 record-breaking miles. During the next twenty-four hours, the great Weston kept within striking distance of the veteran Englishman. On Friday, the fifth day, Weston made his move, covered 73 miles, and took the lead. He was impressive as he alternately walked and ran the endless laps with an inexorable and fluid stride, a portrait of “iron-like legs and indomitable will.” Brown succumbed under the ordeal, his swollen knee forcing him off the
track for five hours, following repeated pleas from his doctor.
Weston never faltered and a few minutes before 11 p.m., Saturday, he completed “the greatest pedestrian task of which the world has any knowledge.”
He had covered 550 miles in less than six days. Brown had run 452, Ennis 180, and Harding 147, the last two having dropped out early in the week.
Weston was $8,000 richer and looked forward to the inevitable challenge, this time
from the previous belt winner, Charles Rowell. The fifth and final match for the Sir John Astley Belt was arranged.
The Fifth Astley Belt
The familiar scene was the Garden in New York City, shortly after midnight on Monday, September 22, 1879. Weston and Rowell were on hand as was the perennial Ennis. George Hazael of England, George Guyon of Canada, and Peter Panchot had Pedestrianism records of running more than 400 miles in this kind of competition.
Also seeking fame and fortune was the Negro champion from Boston, Frank Hart. Fred Krohne of Germany and Samuel Merritt of Bridgeport, Connecticut, with successful pedestrian backgrounds,
were entered, while lesser personalities named Taylor, Jackson, Federmeyer, and Dutcher completed the group of thirteen starters. Daniel O’Leary, still in poor health, was in the stands and kept
close watch over his protégé, Frank Hart.
The capacity crowd of 7500 had been undaunted by the one dollar admission fee. They were in a betting mood and the everpresent gamblers were doing a brisk business. The odds offeredwere one and one-half to one against Rowell, two and one-half to one against Weston and three to one against Hazael. The New York papers had given full-page descriptions of the pending match.
already “looking very queer,” and Ennis was seized with cramps.
On Wednesday morning at the impossible hour of 3 a.m., Brown wrested the lead from Weston, opening a gap of 7 miles with a total of 227 record-breaking miles. During the next twenty-four hours, the great Weston kept within striking distance of the veteran Englishman. On Friday, the fifth day, Weston made his move, covered 73 miles, and took the lead. He was impressive as he alternately walked and ran the endless laps with an inexorable and fluid stride, a portrait of “iron-like legs and indomitable will.” Brown succumbed under the ordeal, his swollen knee forcing him off the
track for five hours, following repeated pleas from his doctor.
Weston never faltered and a few minutes before 11 p.m., Saturday, he completed “the greatest pedestrian task of which the world has any knowledge.”
He had covered 550 miles in less than six days. Brown had run 452, Ennis 180, and Harding 147, the last two having dropped out early in the week.
Weston was $8,000 richer and looked forward to the inevitable challenge, this time
from the previous belt winner, Charles Rowell. The fifth and final match for the Sir John Astley Belt was arranged.
The Fifth Astley Belt
The familiar scene was the Garden in New York City, shortly after midnight on Monday, September 22, 1879. Weston and Rowell were on hand as was the perennial Ennis. George Hazael of England, George Guyon of Canada, and Peter Panchot had Pedestrianism records of running more than 400 miles in this kind of competition.
Also seeking fame and fortune was the Negro champion from Boston, Frank Hart. Fred Krohne of Germany and Samuel Merritt of Bridgeport, Connecticut, with successful pedestrian backgrounds,
were entered, while lesser personalities named Taylor, Jackson, Federmeyer, and Dutcher completed the group of thirteen starters. Daniel O’Leary, still in poor health, was in the stands and kept
close watch over his protégé, Frank Hart.
The capacity crowd of 7500 had been undaunted by the one dollar admission fee. They were in a betting mood and the everpresent gamblers were doing a brisk business. The odds offeredwere one and one-half to one against Rowell, two and one-half to one against Weston and three to one against Hazael. The New York papers had given full-page descriptions of the pending match.
Thirteen tents had been assigned to the athletes and were neatly arranged around the track. Here they would rest, eat, sleep and receive medical treatment during the six days and nights. Few would
allow themselves more than eighteen hours in their tents during the torturous 144-hour contest. The eight-laps-to-the-mile track had a foundation of fine tanbark with an eight-foot wide surface of
well-groomed and hard-packed loam. It was pronounced in excellent shape. After twenty-four hours of walking and running, Rowell had covered 127 miles and had won a $200 bonus, a solid silver
card case lined with gold, and a silver plate bearing his name. All the major contestants except Weston had beaten 100 miles that day.
On Tuesday, Rowell, Hazael, Guyon, and Ennis continued a pitched battle for the lead. Hazael, thirty-five years old, round-shouldered and powerfully built, ran with the “long lope of a deer.” Rowell,
the other tough-muscled Englishman, ran with a methodical jog-trot that never seemed to tire him. Guyon was by far the most graceful in his walking and running, but soon found himself 7½ miles behind the leader, Charles Rowell. Frank Hart walked in the image of his teacher, O’Leary, and was doing well. Rowell’s inexorable pace resulted in a record 176 miles in 36 hours. At 48 hours, the score stood at Rowell, 215 miles; Guyon, 200; Merritt, 197; Hart, 194; Hazael, 185; Ennis, 180; Weston, 173; and Krohne, 160.
Nearly nine thousand tickets were sold on Wednesday, the third day. Rowell still led with 310 miles while a four-way battle for second place saw Merritt, Hazael, Hart, and Guyon some thirty miles
back. Weston was in sixth place and incurred the wrath of many fans and the press with his cane-swinging, carefree air, “absurd antics and idiotic grimaces.” His retirement of eight hours from the
track disgusted those who had backed him “for a walking rather than a sleeping match,” and the betting odds against him rose to 50-1. It was later discovered that Weston had been ill throughout the entire match but chose not to quit or reveal his condition. The crowd favorite, Frank Hart, kept close and received a wreath of flowers bearing the motto, “Go it, Black Dan.”
allow themselves more than eighteen hours in their tents during the torturous 144-hour contest. The eight-laps-to-the-mile track had a foundation of fine tanbark with an eight-foot wide surface of
well-groomed and hard-packed loam. It was pronounced in excellent shape. After twenty-four hours of walking and running, Rowell had covered 127 miles and had won a $200 bonus, a solid silver
card case lined with gold, and a silver plate bearing his name. All the major contestants except Weston had beaten 100 miles that day.
On Tuesday, Rowell, Hazael, Guyon, and Ennis continued a pitched battle for the lead. Hazael, thirty-five years old, round-shouldered and powerfully built, ran with the “long lope of a deer.” Rowell,
the other tough-muscled Englishman, ran with a methodical jog-trot that never seemed to tire him. Guyon was by far the most graceful in his walking and running, but soon found himself 7½ miles behind the leader, Charles Rowell. Frank Hart walked in the image of his teacher, O’Leary, and was doing well. Rowell’s inexorable pace resulted in a record 176 miles in 36 hours. At 48 hours, the score stood at Rowell, 215 miles; Guyon, 200; Merritt, 197; Hart, 194; Hazael, 185; Ennis, 180; Weston, 173; and Krohne, 160.
Nearly nine thousand tickets were sold on Wednesday, the third day. Rowell still led with 310 miles while a four-way battle for second place saw Merritt, Hazael, Hart, and Guyon some thirty miles
back. Weston was in sixth place and incurred the wrath of many fans and the press with his cane-swinging, carefree air, “absurd antics and idiotic grimaces.” His retirement of eight hours from the
track disgusted those who had backed him “for a walking rather than a sleeping match,” and the betting odds against him rose to 50-1. It was later discovered that Weston had been ill throughout the entire match but chose not to quit or reveal his condition. The crowd favorite, Frank Hart, kept close and received a wreath of flowers bearing the motto, “Go it, Black Dan.”
On Thursday, ten men remained on the track. Excitement was high and thousands of dollars were bet on who would take second place. Bulletins of the runners’ progress were posted “from
the Harlem Bridge to the Battery.” Six thousand paid customers were on hand that night plus 300 street urchins who had gained entrance to the Garden through a narrow coal hole on 27 th
Street. Even bets were made that Weston’s record would stand. The Tribune reporter stated that “$225,000 covered all the books in the betting up to 8 p.m.” By 1 a.m. Friday morning, the score read
Rowell, 402 miles; Hazel, 368; Merritt, 367; Guyon, 345; Hart, 339; and Weston, 322.
A major crisis occurred late Friday morning. Rowell had failed to emerge from his tent following one of his infrequent and always brief rest periods. The crowd, especially the bookmakers, waited
anxiously. Finally, after six hours, he emerged, shaken, ill, and in convulsions. The brave Englishman immediately set out in pursuit of Merritt, who had closed the gap to 8½ miles. At 8.58 p.m., Merritt broke into a fast run. Rowell, shaken as he was, accepted the challenge and followed close on his heels. The crowd loved it and a “perfect storm of cheers followed them around the track.” They
continued this way into the night, with the ever-present metallic ring of the bookmaker’s voice hawking his wares. The crowd around the betting table was dense. At one o’clock in the morning
of the last day, over 6,000 enthusiasts remained in the stands. Rowell now led Merritt 452 to 442, while Hazael, Guyon, Hart, and, surprisingly, Weston, had all totaled more than 400 miles.
The last day of the match, Saturday, September 27, 1879, saw nine men on the track. Federmeyer had quit, complaining that the tempo was “more for hares than turtles.” All morning the silent shuffling continued. Rowell reached his 500thmile at 1:02 p.m., amidst cheers and “God Save the Queen” from the band.
the Harlem Bridge to the Battery.” Six thousand paid customers were on hand that night plus 300 street urchins who had gained entrance to the Garden through a narrow coal hole on 27 th
Street. Even bets were made that Weston’s record would stand. The Tribune reporter stated that “$225,000 covered all the books in the betting up to 8 p.m.” By 1 a.m. Friday morning, the score read
Rowell, 402 miles; Hazel, 368; Merritt, 367; Guyon, 345; Hart, 339; and Weston, 322.
A major crisis occurred late Friday morning. Rowell had failed to emerge from his tent following one of his infrequent and always brief rest periods. The crowd, especially the bookmakers, waited
anxiously. Finally, after six hours, he emerged, shaken, ill, and in convulsions. The brave Englishman immediately set out in pursuit of Merritt, who had closed the gap to 8½ miles. At 8.58 p.m., Merritt broke into a fast run. Rowell, shaken as he was, accepted the challenge and followed close on his heels. The crowd loved it and a “perfect storm of cheers followed them around the track.” They
continued this way into the night, with the ever-present metallic ring of the bookmaker’s voice hawking his wares. The crowd around the betting table was dense. At one o’clock in the morning
of the last day, over 6,000 enthusiasts remained in the stands. Rowell now led Merritt 452 to 442, while Hazael, Guyon, Hart, and, surprisingly, Weston, had all totaled more than 400 miles.
The last day of the match, Saturday, September 27, 1879, saw nine men on the track. Federmeyer had quit, complaining that the tempo was “more for hares than turtles.” All morning the silent shuffling continued. Rowell reached his 500thmile at 1:02 p.m., amidst cheers and “God Save the Queen” from the band.
The doughty Rowell sprinted a lap in acknowledgement. A storm of applause greeted Merritt at 4:10 p.m. as he finished his 500 th mile. At 8 p.m. the Garden was packed with the largest audience
of the match. Hazael scored 500 miles at 8:03 p.m. The crowd became unruly and many slipped under the guard rails and onto the narrow track. Spectators elbowed past the police in an effort to
see the finish. The protracted torment finally ended at 9:48 p.m., some 140 hours after the start. Trainers and physicians escorted the nine men to their hotels for treatment. Rowell was the winner
again with 530 miles. Merritt had completed 515 miles and Hazael Pedestrianism an even 500. Frank Hart, the Boston favorite, managed 482 and Guyon 471, Weston 455, both Ennis and Krohne 450, and Taylor an undistinguished 250 miles. Nearly $56,000 was divided among them with Rowell receiving $30,000 for his week’s work.
of the match. Hazael scored 500 miles at 8:03 p.m. The crowd became unruly and many slipped under the guard rails and onto the narrow track. Spectators elbowed past the police in an effort to
see the finish. The protracted torment finally ended at 9:48 p.m., some 140 hours after the start. Trainers and physicians escorted the nine men to their hotels for treatment. Rowell was the winner
again with 530 miles. Merritt had completed 515 miles and Hazael Pedestrianism an even 500. Frank Hart, the Boston favorite, managed 482 and Guyon 471, Weston 455, both Ennis and Krohne 450, and Taylor an undistinguished 250 miles. Nearly $56,000 was divided among them with Rowell receiving $30,000 for his week’s work.
Decline of Pedestrianism
The inherent ills of professional sport are greed, callousness, and an insatiable tendency toward blatant and often brutalized gladiatorial display. Without a regulator, professional sport contains the seeds of its own destruction. Professional pedestrianism in the United States was guilty of these abuses and slowly began to ebb in popularity after the intriguing series of five matches sponsored by Sir John Astley. Six-day foot racing did not give in to the flashier and faster six-day bicycle racing for several years and not without a struggle. During the declining years of the sport, with vicious exploitation of the athletes by promoters and gamblers plus the athlete’s self-realization of his own vast physical potential, the public saw some marvelous performances. Inevitably, the world’s
record fell time and again.
In February of 1880, “Blower” Brown covered 553 miles and broke Weston’s record. In New York City, from April 5-10, 1880, Frank Hart ran 566 miles. Rowell also did 566 miles in London that
same year. Over the Christmas holiday in 1881, Patrick Fitzgerald upped the “go-as-you-please” record and the Madison Square Garden record to a prodigious 582 miles. On March 3, 1882, in
New York, George Hazael of England became the first human to officially run 600 miles in six days and six nights. In that same race, his countryman Charles Rowell totaled a staggering 150 miles in
the first twenty-four hours, a world record. In May 1884, Fitzgerald defeated Rowell 612 miles to 602 miles in a memorable race witnessed by 12,000 New Yorkers. On February 9, 1888, James
Albert, alias “Cathcart,” a Philadelphia alderman, logged his 621st mile and another record. Finally, the fastest six-day marathoner of them all, a tiny Englishman named George Littlewood, astonished
the sports world and a knowledgeable New York audience with a performance of 623 ¾ miles in 139 hours and 59 minutes, a record unapproached to the present day.
The sport died, but many of the runners continued their mesmeric tread on to the end of the century and well into the next. Weston had walked nearly 5,000 miles in 100 days in 1884.nHe
and his old rival Daniel O’Leary staged a comeback in 1896 by walking 2,500 miles across America in nine weeks. Charles Rowell completed a full 26-mile marathon in 3 hours and 4 minutes on
March 26, 1909. John Ennis continued to walk till the eve of World 18 / John Apostal Lucas
War I. In 1909, the 71-year-old Edward Payson Weston made the headlines again by walking 3,895 miles from New York City to San Francisco in 104 days.
In 1913, on the fiftieth anniversary of his famous walk from Maine to Washington, D.C. (to attend Lincoln’sinauguration), Weston duplicated the feat and astonished the accompanying doctors. Always the showmen, the six-day pedestrians of the nineteenth century represent a breed of men and a sport that is not likely ever to be seen again.
The inherent ills of professional sport are greed, callousness, and an insatiable tendency toward blatant and often brutalized gladiatorial display. Without a regulator, professional sport contains the seeds of its own destruction. Professional pedestrianism in the United States was guilty of these abuses and slowly began to ebb in popularity after the intriguing series of five matches sponsored by Sir John Astley. Six-day foot racing did not give in to the flashier and faster six-day bicycle racing for several years and not without a struggle. During the declining years of the sport, with vicious exploitation of the athletes by promoters and gamblers plus the athlete’s self-realization of his own vast physical potential, the public saw some marvelous performances. Inevitably, the world’s
record fell time and again.
In February of 1880, “Blower” Brown covered 553 miles and broke Weston’s record. In New York City, from April 5-10, 1880, Frank Hart ran 566 miles. Rowell also did 566 miles in London that
same year. Over the Christmas holiday in 1881, Patrick Fitzgerald upped the “go-as-you-please” record and the Madison Square Garden record to a prodigious 582 miles. On March 3, 1882, in
New York, George Hazael of England became the first human to officially run 600 miles in six days and six nights. In that same race, his countryman Charles Rowell totaled a staggering 150 miles in
the first twenty-four hours, a world record. In May 1884, Fitzgerald defeated Rowell 612 miles to 602 miles in a memorable race witnessed by 12,000 New Yorkers. On February 9, 1888, James
Albert, alias “Cathcart,” a Philadelphia alderman, logged his 621st mile and another record. Finally, the fastest six-day marathoner of them all, a tiny Englishman named George Littlewood, astonished
the sports world and a knowledgeable New York audience with a performance of 623 ¾ miles in 139 hours and 59 minutes, a record unapproached to the present day.
The sport died, but many of the runners continued their mesmeric tread on to the end of the century and well into the next. Weston had walked nearly 5,000 miles in 100 days in 1884.nHe
and his old rival Daniel O’Leary staged a comeback in 1896 by walking 2,500 miles across America in nine weeks. Charles Rowell completed a full 26-mile marathon in 3 hours and 4 minutes on
March 26, 1909. John Ennis continued to walk till the eve of World 18 / John Apostal Lucas
War I. In 1909, the 71-year-old Edward Payson Weston made the headlines again by walking 3,895 miles from New York City to San Francisco in 104 days.
In 1913, on the fiftieth anniversary of his famous walk from Maine to Washington, D.C. (to attend Lincoln’sinauguration), Weston duplicated the feat and astonished the accompanying doctors. Always the showmen, the six-day pedestrians of the nineteenth century represent a breed of men and a sport that is not likely ever to be seen again.
NOTES
1 “Pedestrian Feats,” Every Saturday, July 11, 1868, pp. 46-50.
2 For interesting accounts of this important race, see Jennie Holliman,
American Sports (1785-1835) (Durham, N. C.: Seaman Press, 1931), p.
154; Philip Hone, The Diary of Philip Hone 1828-1851, Allan Nevins, Ed.
Vol. I. (Dodd, Mead and Co., 1927), p. 157.
3 New York Times, April 25, 1835, p. 2. This reference is from the old
New York Times, founded May 12, 1834, which ceased publication October
17, 1837.
4 The Spirit of the Times, O
4 The Spirit of the Times, October 19, 1844, p. 402 and November 23,
1844, p. 462; The Illustrated London Times, January 11, 1845, p. 21.
5 Ralph H. Gabriel (Ed), Annals of American Sport, Vol. XV. “Early Professional Races,” by John Alien Krout (New Haven: Yale University Press,
1929), p. 186; William B. Curtis, “By-gone International Athletic Contests,”
Outing, Vol. XXXVI (July, 1900), p. 350; and James S. Mitchell, “Athletic
Giants of the Past, Outing, Vol. XXVIII (1901), p. 2 6 9.
6 William E. Harding, The Pedestrian Manual. History of the Astley and
O’Leary Belts (New York: McGlew & Jacques, Publishers, 1880), p. 6.
7 Edward Plummer, The American Championship Record and a History of
Mixing Races (New York: Snowden and Beaudine, 1881), p. 23.
8 “The Hughes-O’Leary Contest,” New York Sportsman, October 5,
1878, p. 164.
9 “Walking for the Championship,” Frank Leslie’s Illustrated Newspaper, October 19, 1878, p. 115.
10 Two pages of illustrated materials and race commentary may be
found in Frank Leslie’s Illustrated Newspaper, March 29, 1879, pp. 48,
55.
11 John Dugdale Astley, Fifty Years of My Life in the World of Sport at
Home and Abroad (London: Hurst and Blacken, Ltd., 1894), p. 156.
12 Walter H. Moler, “Weston and His Walks—the Wonderful Record of
Edward Payson Weston,” Souvenir program, 1910.
13. “Weston and the Championship,” The Turf, Field and Farm, June
27, 1879, p. 410.
14 Further accounts of the Fourth Astley Belt race may be found in
Harper’s Weekly, July 12, 1879, p. 543; The Turf, Field and Farm, June 20,
1879, p. 396; and New York Times, June 22, 1879, p. 1.
15 The New York Tribune sports pages from September 23, 1879 Pedestrianism / 19
through September 28, 1879 were dominated by detailed accounts of this
memorable fifth contest. See also The Daily Inter-Ocean, Chicago, September 29, 1879, p. 3; and The New York Sportsman, October 4, 1879, p.
164.
16 Fifth Contest for the Astley Belt,” Frank Leslie’s Illustrated Newspaper, October 4, 1879, pp. 71-72.
17 Statistical details of all these record performances may be found in
James I. Lupton, The Pedestrian’s Record (London: W. H. Alien and Co.,
1890).
18 “Weston’s Temperance Tours,” The Times (London) March 17, 1884,
p. 10 and April 3, 1884, p. 6.
19 The New York Times carried extensive and daily columns in Weston’s
own words, beginning on March 16, 1909 and ending July 14, 1909
1844, p. 462; The Illustrated London Times, January 11, 1845, p. 21.
5 Ralph H. Gabriel (Ed), Annals of American Sport, Vol. XV. “Early Professional Races,” by John Alien Krout (New Haven: Yale University Press,
1929), p. 186; William B. Curtis, “By-gone International Athletic Contests,”
Outing, Vol. XXXVI (July, 1900), p. 350; and James S. Mitchell, “Athletic
Giants of the Past, Outing, Vol. XXVIII (1901), p. 2 6 9.
6 William E. Harding, The Pedestrian Manual. History of the Astley and
O’Leary Belts (New York: McGlew & Jacques, Publishers, 1880), p. 6.
7 Edward Plummer, The American Championship Record and a History of
Mixing Races (New York: Snowden and Beaudine, 1881), p. 23.
8 “The Hughes-O’Leary Contest,” New York Sportsman, October 5,
1878, p. 164.
9 “Walking for the Championship,” Frank Leslie’s Illustrated Newspaper, October 19, 1878, p. 115.
10 Two pages of illustrated materials and race commentary may be
found in Frank Leslie’s Illustrated Newspaper, March 29, 1879, pp. 48,
55.
11 John Dugdale Astley, Fifty Years of My Life in the World of Sport at
Home and Abroad (London: Hurst and Blacken, Ltd., 1894), p. 156.
12 Walter H. Moler, “Weston and His Walks—the Wonderful Record of
Edward Payson Weston,” Souvenir program, 1910.
13. “Weston and the Championship,” The Turf, Field and Farm, June
27, 1879, p. 410.
14 Further accounts of the Fourth Astley Belt race may be found in
Harper’s Weekly, July 12, 1879, p. 543; The Turf, Field and Farm, June 20,
1879, p. 396; and New York Times, June 22, 1879, p. 1.
15 The New York Tribune sports pages from September 23, 1879 Pedestrianism / 19
through September 28, 1879 were dominated by detailed accounts of this
memorable fifth contest. See also The Daily Inter-Ocean, Chicago, September 29, 1879, p. 3; and The New York Sportsman, October 4, 1879, p.
164.
16 Fifth Contest for the Astley Belt,” Frank Leslie’s Illustrated Newspaper, October 4, 1879, pp. 71-72.
17 Statistical details of all these record performances may be found in
James I. Lupton, The Pedestrian’s Record (London: W. H. Alien and Co.,
1890).
18 “Weston’s Temperance Tours,” The Times (London) March 17, 1884,
p. 10 and April 3, 1884, p. 6.
19 The New York Times carried extensive and daily columns in Weston’s
own words, beginning on March 16, 1909 and ending July 14, 1909
Friday, 5 October 2018
Tuesday, 2 October 2018
Saturday, 29 September 2018
Frank Hart - One of Americas first Black sports stars
In 1880, Frank Hart wowed audiences at New York’s Madison Square Garden by walking 565 miles in six days.
ON APRIL 10, 1880, NEW York’s original Madison Square Garden was packed with sports fans. Men in the arena roared. Ladies waved their handkerchiefs. A band struck up “Home Sweet Home,” the classic 1823 American folk ballad. They had come to see Frank Hart, one of the best “pedestrians” of his day.
“I’ll break those white fellows’ hearts!” Hart, an immigrant from Haiti, vowed before the race. “I will—you hear me!”
Eighteen men competed in the race. Three of them were African Americans, including Hart. After Hart crossed the victory line, fans showered him with bouquets of flowers. His trainer handed him a broomstick to hold the American flag aloft during his victory laps.
Hart had won a “six-day go-as-you-please” endurance race. “The rules were simple,” explained Mile High Card Company, a sports auction house, in 2010. “Participants, called ‘pedestrians’ were free to run, walk, crawl, and scratch their way around an oval track as many times as possible in the course of six days, sleeping on cots within the oval, and usually for less than four hours per day.” Hart set a new world record by walking 565 miles, or 94 miles per day. His prize was $21,567, including $3,600 he legally betted on himself. It was the equivalent of almost a half million dollars today.
Rest of the article at:
Wednesday, 8 August 2018
Wednesday, 1 August 2018
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