Tom Kelly
Tom introduced me to Running
In this blog I would like you to meet some of the people
that have influenced me in my running journey.
Tom Kelly came in to my life when I was 12 years old. I had
the distinction of being shortest, and lightest kid in year 7 at school. As
someone who loved to play footy and dreamt of being a VFL player for Carlton,
that was not a good start. I got really despondent that I went to every
training session, and the result was that I "warmed the bench except for
the last 5 min of the game, and only if we were winning. At about the same time
I got pushed over during a game and I fell on a small rock and tore my kneecap
off my knee. What a bloody mess. So with an operation to get it back in and my
knee all sown up, was a long time doing not much, and it ended my time playing
footy. I had a heap of energy that had
to be let out. One of my mates heard that this Olympian, who lived around the
corner from us was starting a running group for young kids. I wasn't really
interested in running as such, or thought about it as a sport. But running with
an Olympian was just so cool, and so then and there, I started doing something
that has had a profound effect on the rest of my life. I am always amazed about
how these chance meetings, or innocuous decisions have such a huge effect on
the way that your life evolves.
Tom was originally from Ireland, and he had this heavy Irish
accent. Today he is in his middle 70s, and still training athletes, and has
coached some of the Olympic marathoners through the 1980s and 90s. He is only
5'5", and probably weighs 60 kg wringing wet. He is still very fit, and I
can always remember that he had the biggest set of calf muscles I have ever
seen, he was all sinew and muscle. Over the next few months with lots of
patience on his part, he got a group of 8 of us running about 4 or 5 times a
week, just for 45 to 60 min around our local footy oval and back. I was still
having trouble with my knee, it ached like hell, but he was pure encouragement,
and he seemed to be enjoying having us around him always chatting. I think he
knew if we were distracted while we were running then the time would fly by,
and it did. It took a while to be able to understand his accent but we all
managed it. After about 6 months, he introduced us to the Box Hill Amateur
Athletics Club. They were the best days growing up. We would all meet at his
place after school, and then head up to Surrey Park at Box Hill South, running
of course. There I met people that were pure
energy, the Oval was bustling with it, even as a kid I could feel it. I
remember he introduced us to the head trainer there, Reg Barlow, and it was
like we were his nephews. I remember leaning on the fence of the Oval, and
watching Olympic hopefuls, nationally ranked athletes, and those that were
there to just give it everything they had, and a handful of us young boys, and
a few girls. After that 1st time, I couldn't wait to get back. Dad paid a
joining fee, and I became a member of that club. This is where I saw the
difference between team sports, and individual ones. If you put in the
training, and decided to enter a race, you were accepted as an athlete on the
start line, and you were there to try and win, and if you couldn't, you are
there to do the best you could, and you were respected. Team sports, you can
train the house down, and still be on the sidelines.
Tom was great, he introduced us to interval training, 400 m
floaters he would call them, where we would run hard down the straight, and
just "float" around the bends. He would stand on the inside of the
track with his stopwatch, and clipboard, and be a ball of pure encouragement
urging us on when we started to get tired. On other days, he would have us run
up to the local golf course, and there we would run around the tree lines on
the edge of the fairways , it was just great. In the summer he introduced us to
track racing at box Hill, we could run events up to 10,000mt, and then on other
weekends we would go to other clubs in the area. I couldn't get over the
friendliness, and the encouragement of everyone. Tom was like a mother hen to
us at these meetings, until we all knew what to do, and where to be etc. I am
sure we ended his elite running career when he started with us, but he still
ran very competitively at club level. He ran the steeplechase in the Olympics,
and continued to do so at club level. When we had some spare time at training,
we would try out the steeplechase hurdles. I had to stop at each one, and climb
up, and jump down off the top which was okay till you got to the water jump,
and I landed in the deepest part, which was up over my waist and I had to swim
out of the pit. I can remember Tom couldn't stop laughing. Over the months and
next few years, a few of us had improved to the point where we made the
training squad for the junior state track championship team. It was such a
highlight, and Tom was so proud of our efforts. I didn't make the final squad,
but it was a great experience nonetheless. During the winter we did cross-country
running, road racing, and relay running. As autumn approached our training
changed, and we would start doing longer runs, and would compete with other
clubs on Saturdays at different courses. I remember my 1st cross-country race.
I was so looking forward to it. It was at Wattle Park, not far from home . Tom
had taken us there a few times for training, and I really enjoyed running in
the bush. On that 1st race I came last! I lost my shoe in the mud, and it was
just one of those days. I was so disappointed, I felt like I had let him down.
AAt the next race there a month later I came 10th, and I didn't lose
my shoe!! I kept improving, and realised I was better at longer distances than
track. I remember when we shifted our club to Haugermeyers Reserve in Box Hill
North. It was closer to home and it was to us kids anyway, the Olympic Stadium.
It was all so new. I remember a beautiful
rubberised track, with clubrooms, that had a gym, showers, and lecture
rooms. Wom introduced us all to weight training, and this was a new addition to
our schedule which I enjoyed. I remember he would be using weights that we
couldn't even lift off the ground, and then and there I realised you don't have
to be big to be strong.
When you ran with Tom you couldn't hear him, it was just
swish, swish, swish. I am sure he could sneak up on you, and you wouldn't hear
a thing!. These days, as I have become a barefoot runner I realise how
important that swish, swish sound was to an injury free lifetime of running.
I grew up, and moved on, and I lost contact with Tom until
about 10 years ago. I became friends with a tri-athlete at the Ironman, and we
met up for a coffee when we got back to Melbourne. He mentioned one day that
his club does their running training at the Doncaster athletics track, and were
coached by a Tom Kelly. I just couldn't believe it. It was great to know he was
still out there doing what he loved to do.
I met him a few months ago at my dad's funeral, as he and
dad were friends. It was a sad occasion, but we had a great chat about what
each of us were doing. He was still bright eyed, and full of life , energy, and
enthusiasm. It was great to see him, and now as I have positioned myself as a
running coach, I can somehow walk in his footsteps. He had a profound effect on me as a teenager,
more than he ever knew. The day we went on our 1st run together all those years
ago, I became a runner and I have enjoyed it ever since.
Thanks Tom
Dave Rabl
Ironman Aust Finish No ?????
If he reads this he will probably knock my block off. But I
can't leave him out, because he was the kick I needed to actually decide, boots
and all to enter the world of endurance sport.
I have spent most of my life as a dairy farmer, and most of
that in Nth Victoria, not far from Shepparton. I trained when I felt like it,
and then raced when l wanted to, which was just every now and then.
I had a stint in hospital, and was convalescing on the couch
at home (it is great to have a house full of boys to milk for me), when I saw the Hawaiian
Ironman on the TV, and by the time it had finished I was sitting bolt upright,
and transfixed. Man, I'd like to have a go at that one day, and so a small fire
was lit. Some time later after I recovered, I borrowed my brother's bike, and
after milking one night I rode 20 km. How hard could it be. All I can say is
that at 4 o'clock the next morning when it was time to get upand milk, I found
out how very hard it had been, and how very sore I was. There were bits on me
that I didn't realise could get sore!! But with some perseverance,
determination, and a bit of reorganisation of a busy farmers life, saw me on
the road, running, and cycling, and driving to the pool in Shepparton to swim.
My family were supportive of this change,
and I thank them very much. So while all my farmer friends were playing bowls,
their loony mate was peddling, or running around the countryside. The milk
tankers realised who I was, and always gave me a toot, and a wide berth as they
passed me, especially the B doubles, which I was very appreciative of.
I met Dave when I found out that there was a triathlon club
in Shepparton. I found out that they got together on Saturdays, for a long bike
ride, a coffee, and a chat later on. So off I went. They were a great group of
people including Pam, a 60+ grandmother who could bury any female half her age. Intros were made, and we
wandered off down the road towards Dookie. It was the 1st time I had ridden
with other people, and it scared me to death. I felt sure that I was going to
fall off, and take others down as well. After a while this bloke came alongside,
and said gidday. Dave is about 190 cm pretty wiry, and 2 years older than me.
He came from Murtoa in the Wimmera where his dad was the local doctor. He
talked about grain, and farming like he had been a farmer all his life, and I
found a common bond with him, as we had the same interests in music, politics,
families, and a lot of other things that make up life. Dave is a secondary
school teacher at the Wanganui Secondary
College at Shepparton. I didn't go over every week, as farming duties were first
cab off the rank, but when I could go over there, he would be there, and we
began talking about heaps of stuff.
Little by little we got to know each other. And at times we would go
running together, and it was there that I found out that running was a real
passion for him. Dave is an Ironman Legend having completed more than 10
Ironman Australian Triathlons he has also competed in the Hawaiian Ironman. He
started competing in triathlon when bikes were still lent against fences. He is
also a Spartan, one of an elite club of runners who have completed at least 10
Melbourne marathons. I think he has run nearly 20. Running, and running tips
always passed back and forth, mostly from him to me, which I soaked up like a
sponge. But while we talked about time, splits, pacing, and all the other stuff,
what I came to realise is that I had found someone who just enjoyed putting the
shoes on, and just heading out the door as if it was the most natural thing to
do. It was part of his life, just like cleaning your teeth, so you must run,
and he just loved it. I just thought I was weird, but now I had a mate who has
just the same, and I realised that if there were 2 of us we couldn't be crazy,
right? I was always peppering him with questions about marathons, Ironman Triathlons etc. I was always telling
him would like to do marathons and IM one day, and he just came out and said
just give it a go. I think you would make a great endurance athlete. And so it
happened, although he would deny having any part of it, maybe because I have
just turned into a weekend warrier!!! He would say it was my decision, but
sometimes you need a push. Anyway that statement just sparked something in me .
So I decided I'd have a go at the Melbourne Marathon. I had been doing lots of
fun runs, and sprint triathlons so I was in okay shape, and I spent a lot of
time on the wind trainer after milking at night, beside my tractor in the
machinery shed, putting in the effort, and was also running around the
countryside in the dark with a torch. There are certainly no street lights out
on country roads. Dave was doing the same thing in Shepparton, and training
with his running club. I can only say I must have been a pain in the bum on
race day. I was like I had drunk 10 cups of coffee, high as a kite!! We ran
together, I was prancing around all over the place like a little kid. We
chatted, and talked about what was ahead. Yeah, yeah, but I kept thinking, man
am I going to nail this, and he just kept smiling. At 21km I remember telling
him that I could run like this all day, halfway so easy. He just said with a
smile that the 32 km mark is halfway point of the marathon. I thought being a
teacher he could at least get his maths right. But right on cue this little
black duck did not see the “wall” coming, and it hit me like a truck. Over the
last 10 km Dave kept me going, encouraging, and reminding me to keep drinking,
and have a little too eat. Man I was gone, I was running, but the rest of me
had taken their bat and ball and gone home. I crossed the line in my first
marathon in 3 hours and 18 min, and I don't remember a thing. I came to again a
few minutes later with a medal lying beside me on a stretcher in the first aid
room with someone trying to get me to drink Gatorade. That time remains my 2nd
best marathon time.The best one was at the Shepparton Marathon a few years
later at 3:08. Dave has always been there in the background. If I called in to
say gidday, the teapot would come out as
well is the bicky barrel and an hour or two would pass by very quickly. He said
one thing that I have remembered and tried to do. He wanted me to run with
others on their 1st marathon journey, and so in 2007 I ran with my brother
Steve as he completed his 1st marathon. It will always be the highlight of my
athletic life to see his face at the end. And the little bugger pulled on burst
of speed with 400mt to go that I couldn't match and he beat me!
David was there too when I completed my 1st Ironman in Foster
Tuncurry. Again I must have given him the shits. I was so scared of what was
about to come. I had never swum 3.8 km in one go, and I have only done a
handful of swims in open water. 1.9 km was the longest. I could not even see
the turnaround point for the Ironman swim. I knew I was going to drown, I just
knew it. I stuck to his side like shit on a shovel, hyperventilating, about to
throw up. If someone had said boo to me I would have broken down and balled my
eyes out (which would definitely fog up the goggles). As we got into the water,
he shook my hand, and said “have a great day mate, see you at the end”. We
tread water together before the start, and then it was on. The Ironman swim has
been compared to a washing machine on
heavy duty cycle. Bashed, kicked, and being hit, are very common as flailing
arms, and legs propel us forward. I am happy to say I didn't drown, and as the
shoreline approached, and I stood up, right in front of me was Dave. I couldn't
believe it was him. I tapped him on the shoulder, and he turned and smiled and
said what a bastard I was for tapping on his feet for the past hour, and then
he was gone.
We have raced a lot together over the years, and I have
enjoyed his company so much more than he knows. We have had some terrific
battles in races all over the place, and we both enjoyed them all especially the Puffing Billy Run in the
Dandenongs, in Melbourne. I have realised that you can be in front of somebody
and not necessarily beat them and that's probably one of the biggest lessons that I've learnt over the years. That we all
have different journeys, we all have different stories, we all have different
talents, and I really couldn't care less what the scorecard was, we were just 2
blokes out there running until the spit hung off the bottom of the chin. Sadly
he can't run any more but when I am out there I think of him often, and how he
has had to deal with his life without running (although still cleans his
teeth). Thanks Dave
There have been other runners that have influenced me. People
like Rob de Castella. He and I are roughly the same age, and I have read his
biography many times. I have followed his progress as he became the world's top
marathoner, representing Australia a number of times at the Olympic and
Commonwealth Games. I remember watching him on the TV, as he set a new world
record of 2:07 something, and his incredible Commonwealth Games marathon battle
in Brisbane in 1982, with Juma Ikanga. Talk
about David and Goliath, I think Juma was about half of Rob’s height. It was a
great battle. Reading Rob’s biography has taught me the value of being patient,
and treating running as a life long journey.
Steve Moneghetti is really an unbelievable athlete with a
passion for running even in his late 40s. He just can't help himself. I have
also read Steve's book, In The Long Run. It's very similar to Rob’s story in
that I realised these people did not just pop up on the world stage. They have
been running for a number of years, trying, failing, succeeding, and finally
achieving their goal. Steve is now an age group athlete, still putting in some
blistering times, and I have the distinction of actually passing Steve during
the run leg of a triathlon in Ballarat. People look at me incredulously, and
then I had to admit that he was running from, where I was going to, but I don't
dwell on that. I passed him, enough said!!!!!!
Emil Zatopek
Emial Zatopek. There is not much you can say about him that
hasn't already been written. He was just an amazing athlete, and an incredibly
compassionate and likeable man. He raced like he was going to die the very next
step. I have included a segment on him from a book I have read a number of
times. It’s a bit long winded but there was much more to this bloke than meets
the eye.
I have raced the Zatopek 10,000 in Melbourne many times.
This is not the elite race but one for all us age groupers. It’s the only track
race I do these days. I do it in honour of the greatest athlete of his time.
The T-shirts I have of those races are some of my most prized possesions.
Zatopek arrived at the 1952 Olympic games in Helsinki, as
the reigning 10,000 m world record holder, and over the intervening years have
not been beaten. 20 times he had run faster than he did in London, and that had
been an Olympic record. He also came with a swathe of other victories, and
records, national and international, from 2000 mt out to 30 km. He was exciting,
exhilarating to watch because, as he told the Runners World years later, "sometimes I was like a mad
dog. It didn't matter about style, or what it looked like to others; there were records to break". He
was in Helsinki despite doctors diagnosing a gland infection, and warned him he
must not compete, but that did not matter to Emil. Finland athletes had won the
10,000 metres, and the 5000 m gold medals on all but one occasion since 1936.
These people knew running greatness, and they had come to challenge the champ.
What Zatopek did in Helsinki, consigned the rest of his record to history and
it wasn't just what he did it, was the extraordinary way in which he did it.
In fact, through each of Zatopek's performances, the 10,000,
5000, and marathon, we can glimpse something of the inner man – the qualities,
and personality that endeared him to the world, well beyond the power of any
individual performance or statistic.
The 10,000 mts began, a 25 lap war of attrition, or at least
that's how it must have felt to Zatopek's opponents. He expected to win, the
world expected him to win, and so it was. Here is how the British Olympic
Association reported that race. "Zatopek took the lead after the first 5
or 6 laps and, except for a short period, he never relinquished it. The race
was not in a sense, a race at all. We merely waited while this athlete Zatopek
with inexorable monotony, dropped his opponent
one after another, with Mimoun the last to yield some 4 1/2 laps from
the finish. The opposition gave all they had, but it was not enough, though in
the case of the first 6 they all went under the old Olympic record "
The sense of inevitability that hung around this race is
perfectly conveyed. Maybe it is folly to say of anyone that he need only to
keep his feet to win but in that Helsinki 10,000 mt no one was beating Zatopek.
He broke his own Olympic record, and the hearts of those who chased him.
Winning as he pleased, and beating silver medallist Alaine Mimoun by nearly 16
seconds, or more than 100 m, and Zatopek dragged the next 5 runners under his
old mark. Between 1948 and 1954 he won 38 consecutive 10,000 m races, and 2
months after Helsinki, when other athletes had been having a break he ran
consecutive 10,000 m in under 30 min each, and were to become the training platform that he built as a ruthless
and relentless athlete.
Zatopek's training regime was revolutionary. He would run 40
single laps with only a short rest in between. He ran through snowdrifts, and
heavy rain, and when he could not run outside he loaded his bath pub with dirty
washing and soapy water, and tread on them to clean them, running on the spot
for hours on end. He ran repeated fast sprints, and onlookers would laugh, “who
trains for 5000 mt by running 100 m?”
And Zatopek would say "true. But what if I do that 100 mt 50 times?".
Zatopek was experimenting as much as training. He was
learning the boundaries of what his body could do, and then pushing further. He
was developing strength of mind, stamina of body, and tolerance for pain, which
would compensate for his relatively poor raw speed. He wanted to sustain a race
pace close to his fastest, and run his opponents off their legs.
He often said "it's at the borders of pain and
suffering, that the men are separated from the boys" and if that is a
trite cliched then how about this. "When a person trains once, nothing
happens. When a person forces himself to do a certain thing 100, or 1000 times
then he has certainly developed in more ways than the physical. Is it raining?
That doesn't matter. Am I tired? That does not matter either. It is then that
will power becomes no problem. It is simply that I have to." There is a
similar quote in one of the Star Wars movies when Obi-Wan Kenobi quotes” there
is no try only do”.
If he suffered during training, he then reasoned that the
actual performance would be a relief. He would reel off fast laps, like he had
reeled off in training sessions. And it made him, over 10,000 mt at least,
invincible. If the 10,000 mt was Zatopek at his physical peak, then the 5000 mt
gave us his courage. It was strength of character, as much as strength of body.
Will power over leg power equals success. The 1952 5000 mt was a perfect hyper
bowl and an unbelievable last lap.Here is a report of that race.
Shade, Chataway and Mimoun, along with Zatopek, who is in
absolute agony. One of these will win; the rest are dead or dying. At the sound
of the bell, Zatopek punches manically leaping the others in a single bound,
his eyes barely visible under his furrowed brows. But he cannot shake his
attackers! The strategic kick gains him NOTHING, and costs seem nearly
everything.
In the next 100 m Chataway sales passed him, Shade in his
shadow. 200 m from the finish line
Chataway, Shade, and Mimoun run side by side. Zatopek is
behind them, his speed not equal to theirs, his massive strength drained. Shade
asserts his right to the lead. Chataway disputes it, taking command, and as
they head into the final turn the crowd is frantically howling wildly. Then the
howls coalesce. They are screening as won Zatopek Zatopek Zatopek! From deep
within, he has summoned the courage of the angels! Chataway, who in 2 years
will push Roger Bannister through the 4 min mile barrier, leans hard into the
turn, balancing himself for a devastating sprint. It never comes. Zatopek
springs like a tiger, his jaws salvilating, his driving legs pummelling the dirt track. Panicked by
Zatopek's fury, Shade, and Mimoun blast past Chataway. One of the Olympics most
famous photographic sequences take us back to that last bend that turned into
the straight. In the 1st frame Chataway leads narrowly from Shade, and Mimoun a
further step back, and Zatopek 3 mt astern, seemingly spent. The next frame is
just short of the crown of the bend. Shade has moved to Chataway’s shoulder,
and Mimoun to his. Summoning an almighty, supreme effort, Zatopek has swung
wildly up behind them. 5 strides later, out past the 3rd lane, and pushing so
hard he is looking like he will run off the track, Zatopek has his nose in
front, and the other 2 are obscured between him, and Chataway, their legs a
blur of motion. The final frame gives us Zatopek, his face a tortured mask, 2 mt
in front, and storming to victory,Mimoun, and Shade in painfully futile chase,
and Chataway sprawled, heaving on the track. There had been no trip, no bump, foul
play ; he simply had been overwhelmed by such a fierce attack by Zatopek.
But there was more to Zatopek than meets the eye. His sense
of humanity was profound, as was his understanding of the world and the times he
lived in. He spoke 6 languages, all the better to converse with competitors he
said, and his reflection on competing in London, after the winter of the Second
World War, it remains an elegant statement of the Olympic spirit. "After
all those dark days of the war, the bombing, the killing, the starvation, the
revival of the Olympics was as if the sun had come out. I went into the Olympic
Village, and suddenly there were no more frontiers, no more barriers, just
people meeting together, and having a wonderful time. It was so warm and
friendly. Men and women who had just lost 5 years of their life were back
again."
Zatopek was a man of great principle. On the eve of the
Helsinki games, Zatopek learned that countryman Stanislav Jungwirth had been
expelled from the team because his father was a political prisoner. Zatopek
knew the unique power his status, and achievement brought, and knew it could
influence political decisions, and he was unafraid to say so. Zatopek told his
government that if Jungworth did not go
to the Helsinki games then neither would he. For 2 days he held firm, and
remained in Prague. Ultimately the Communists conceded, and these 2 teammates
were on their way, but Zatopek had been willing to sacrifice the glory that
awaited him for what was right. The most poignant demonstration of Zatopek nobility
came well after his athletics career had ended. In 1968 the Communist government
introduced freedom of speech, and freedom of assembly to Czecholslavakia. An
experiment in liberalised communism, and
this brought a swift, and blunt response from their neighbour the Soviet
Union. Tanks rolled through the streets of Prague, Czech Communist leaders were
arrested and called back to Moscow, never to be heard again. Within days a
decree was issued banning anything that violated socialist principles.
Alongside many of his compatriots, Zatopek loudly voiced his objection. They
wanted self rule and they demanded better living conditions. They got neither.
Punishment for supporting the insurgency was severe, Zatopek, who had been a
colonel in the Czech army, was stripped of his pension, and this articulate,
national hero was made to work down in a uranium mine. But he did not cease speaking out against
Communist propaganda, and he did not stop loving his homeland. When Czecholslavakia
finally had her freedom, Zatopek received a public apology for his treatment. He
was awarded his nation's highest honour, the Order of the White Loin. His
reputation within Czechoslovakia was
fully restored.
Finally came his 1st marathon. Zatopek have never raced one,
and at the start, approached the Great Briton, Jim Peters, who 6 weeks earlier had posted the fastest
marathon time ever, and asked him if he could follow Peters during the marathon,
to get the hang of it. Understandably miffed, the world record holder went
out at brutal pace to shake this unwanted shadow. But
Zatopek remained close, and after 10 miles he slid up alongside Peters shoulder
and asked him "Jim, is this pace good enough?" "Too slow,"
came the reply. If Peters was trying to deflate him, it did not work. With a
wave of his hand, Zatopek sped past, and took control of the pace. Peters
dropped out after 20 miles.
Zatopek ran into the Olympic Stadium over half a mile in
front. The crowd roared his name as they had for the entire week. He ran like
he always did, with hunched, and rolling shoulders, head and arms swinging
wildly, and his face was a mask of excruciating pain. Journalist Red Smith had
described Zatopek’s running "like a man with a noose around his neck, the
most frightful spectacle since Frankenstein, on the verge of strangulation. His
face was crimson, his tongue lolled out." But as he reached the finish
line Zatopek broke from his tortured stride and his face broke into an angelic
smile. When Rinaldo Gorno crossed the finish line in 2nd place, over half a
mile behind, Zatopek shared with him the apple he had been eating. And finally
that is how we might remember him. The man who's running exploits were
astonishing, whose humanity was inspiring, but who could still joke, and when
asked what his most impressive accomplishment was he replied "for some
reason our housekeeper never liked me. But after the 1952 Olympic Games, she
said, I am now your friend."
Ron Clarke was probably the 1st international Australian
athlete that I paid attention to as a youngster growing up. I have read his
book the Unforgiving Mile many times, and it gave me the tools that I realised
I needed to become a success, whatever that may mean for each of us. Again this
is part of his story taken from the same book.
Clarke went on (after a four-year lay-off in which
he consolidated his accountancy career) to establish himself as the finest
distance runner of his time. At one stage he held every world record from two
miles to 20 kilometres. His record in that distance band even surpasses that of
Nurmi, who set four of his world times between 1500 and 2000 metres.
In 1965, at the peak of his career, he competed 18 times in eight countries
during a 44-day tour of Europe --- and set 12 world records. Nine of those
records were established inside 21 days. He lowered the world 5000 metres mark
four times (by a total of 18 seconds) and the 10,000 metres record three times
(clipping it by an overall 39 seconds).
Why did Clarke’s magnificence on the track not translate to Olympic gold?
Largely self-coached, he won bronze in the Tokyo 1964 Olympics, and was placed
ninth in both the 5000 and the marathon. His own candid assessment is that he
ran bad tactical races, and that with the guidance of a good coach would have
won the 10,000 and placed second in the 5000.
In Mexico City in 1968, when the high altitude gave a distinct, disgraceful
advantage to distance runners who lived and trained in mountain country, he ran
out of oxygen late in the 10,000 metres. He staggered on bravely, virtually
unconscious, to finish sixth. He collapsed on the line and suffered heart
damage which even now causes him to take daily medication.
Olympics aside, Clarke could hardly have had more successful careers in
athletics and business. He now runs a resort on South Stradbroke Island that
has set new marks for design and environmental management. And one of his
greatest prizes is, yes, an Olympic gold medal. The athlete he admires most,
Emil Zatopek, slipped it to him in a package once at Prague airport with the
words: “Look after this. You deserve it.”
Zatopek owned four gold medals. This one was for the 1952 10,000 metres. The
admiration was mutual.
Ron Clarkes massive record haul. Medals are not the only measurement of
success.
2 mile world record
1967 Vasteras 8:19.8
1968 London 8:19.6
3 mile world record
1964 Melbourne 13:07.06
1965 Los Angeles 13:00.4
1965 London 12:52.4
1966 Stockholm 12:50.4
5000m world record
1965 Hobart 13:34.8
1965 Auckland 13:33.6
1965 Los Angeles 13:25.8
1966 Stockholm 13:16.6
6 mile world record
1963 Melbourne 27:17.8
1965 Oslo 26:47.0
10,000m world record
1963 Melbourne 28:15.6
1965 Oslo 27:39.4
10 mile world record
1965 Melbourne 47:12.8
20km world record
1965 Geelong 59:22.8
1 hour world record
1965 Geelong 20,232m
10,000m unofficial world record
1965 Turku 28:14.0
1964 Olympic Games, Tokyo
Bronze medal 10,000m
Clarke was born in Melbourne in 1937 and was
educated at Melbourne High School. He became one of Australia’s most prolific
world record breakers and in the process revolutionised long distance running
in the world. Ron set an amazing 17 world records between 2 miles and 20
kilometres.
As a junior Ron had set world junior records between 1500 metres and 2 miles
and was selected to carry and light the Olympic flame in the 1956 Melbourne
Olympics. However, it was a number of years before he reached his peak as a
distance runner. He had been concentrating on his studies and also played
reserves football with Essendon in the VFL (now AFL).
Ron was selected for the 1962 Commonwealth Games where he finished second in
the 3 miles. He began setting world records in 1963 at the Zatopek meeting in
Melbourne where he smashed the world 6 miles and 10,000 metres record. Ron went
to the 1964 Tokyo Olympics as one of the favorites but was outsprinted by
American Billy Mills and finished third in the 10,000 metres. Ron had a great
European season in 1965 and 1966, setting further world records and also picked
up two silver medals at the 1966 Kingston Commonwealth Games over 3 and 6
miles.
Ron’s medal ambitions were shattered in Mexico’s rarified atmosphere yet still
managed a fifth in the 5000 metres and sixth in the 10,000 metres behind
African athletes from altitude. The effort Ron made was to cost him in the long
term with heart problems.
Ron’s international career closed at the 1970 Edinburgh Commonwealth Games
where he finished second in the 10,000 metres and fifth in the 5000 metres.
In his career he won nine national titles. His best for 5000 metres was 13:16.6
and for 10,000 metres was 27:39.89, national records until 1998 and 1996
respectively.
Ron’s versatility over the distances saw him ninth in the 1964 Olympic
marathon.
Percy up front and Herb on his tail
There is something greater about Herb Elliott than
sporting results can attest to, which makes Australians collectively hold him
in high regard. Other Australian Olympians have won more gold, but are not
revered in the same manner that he is.
To not mention Percy Ceutty when discussing Herb
Elliott would be neglectful beyond euphemism. It has been well documented that
under the fitness guru, Herb Elliott
became the world leading athlete, that blazed his way to state national, world,
and Olympic records. To say that Percy Cerutty is held in guru status would,
simply be an understatement.
Intellectual; thespian, and accomplished poet
and writer, a forerunner in ideals of natural diet, and rigourous training
regimes. At his world-famous athletic Centre at Portsea, on the toe of
Victoria's windswept Mornington Peninsula, the wise old man of Australian
athletics created an incubator of sporting success. There is a famous bunk in
which 4 track world record holders have slept, and spent time there. Elliott of
course, John Landy, Dave Stevens, and Murray Halberg. Percy the philosopher,
friend, and guiding star wrote about Herb, "he never defaulted in any job
of training himself to the point of exhaustion. Elliott was not so super as a
strength phenomenon, he was a dedicated athlete who spent years of his life to
became a world champion as is Halberg, but he had the rare gift of giving
himself wholly, and completely to the task, whatever that may have been. Cerutty
also said” I would add the name of Herb Elliott, who only after 2 years, far
exceeded the performances of any concurrent world athlete of any similar
training and conditioning.” It is Elliott's construction of punishing,
self-discipline, and embracement of Cerutty’s word that moulded the athlete. He
was never beaten over the 1500 metre or mile races in
his career.
The Olympic games of 1960 in Rome Italy in the 1500
m final Herb Elliott was very nervous. Percy talked quietly to the athlete
before Elliott went out to race. Cerutty told him to be guided by his instincts,
as to the pace, and when to strike. Herb was told to watch for Percy's signal
at 200 m from the finish, should there be either pursuers or world records in sight. At the 300 m mark Herb
Elliott felt very very tired. He succeeded in shaking this off, and moved from
6 to 4th place. The white line of the track shot past under his feet at an
alarming pace. Elliott was later heard to say the voice had come in my head and
said “Herb buggered”. At the 800 m mark Herb Elliott was still in 4th place,
the supreme disciplinarian in Elliott combated that negative voice. It was that
little negative voice that attacks every one of us every day when we are trying
to improve ourselves, and taking
ourselves out of that comfort zone. “So I ignored that voice, but it was a
close one”!. Suddenly things clicked into place. He ran the next 100 m in 13
seconds, and as the press announced Elliott the Australian takes the lead. “My
heart beat quickens, as did the pace of the race”, the next 200 m took 28
seconds, and as the bell sounded Elliott went even faster, running the curved
100 m section in 14 seconds to open up a 3 m lead. Meanwhile Percy had jumped
over a spiked fence, and crossed a moat, and was beside the track as Herb came
streaming down 20 mt clear of the other competitors behind. When Herb saw Percy
waving his yellow towel, Herb thought it was meant that he had to run harder
still ,the others must have been close. Percy said “I waved that towel over my
head indicating to Herb the possibility of a new world record. Herb saw me and
then pounded on with his great and all conquering strides, with ridiculous ease”,
and the rest of course is history. Elliott running the last 800 m in a stunning
1 min 52.6 seconds. As time fortifies good memories, Herb Elliott's
relationship with the older Perc, becomes honeyed in legend. Photos of the
Portsea time wash up more treasures. Herb battling in the sand dunes with Percy
right on his tail. One last quote from Herb says all the readers need to know
about the man. “Running teaches you discipline, if nothing else. The thing
about discipline, is not doing the small number of significantly large things
well, it is doing a large number of totally insignificant things that nobody
ever sees, every time, every time without compromise. It is as simple, and as
difficult as that”.
Anne Transon Ultra Marathoner
Scott
Jureck with Arnulfo Quimire in Mexico
As dip my feet into the ultra
running world, people like Scott Durack, Marshall Ulrik and Anne Transon are
showing me what can be possible with human endurance.
The book Born to Run, has had an
incredible influence on not only the way I run, but cemented in my own mind why
I actually enjoy running. I have it now as an audio book on my iPod, and while
I am training I enjoy listening to it.
So as you head off for your next
run, reflect on the people that have influenced you to put your shoes on, and
head out the door, and just run for the sheer enjoyment of it, and the lessons
about life, that you have learned from their and your efforts.
Hey and have fun out there!!!!
