Athletes That have Influenced Me

                                                           

                                                                     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 10^th, 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

 

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.

                                  Herb Elliot

                          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!!!!