Life on the Run (14 page)

I went off to Rochester next day, or rather later the same day, and had a good run but was beaten into fourth place, but my time was 24:57, the same as my record of the previous year.

In December I was at the Sportsman of the Year Lunch at the Savoy in London. I had hopes of following in the footsteps of many athletes who had won the coveted award since it was first presented in 1946, but it was not to be. The list of those at that function was like a sporting Who's Who.

Just five days later I was at the other big sporting occasion, the BBC Sportsview Personality of the Year Award at the BBC Television Theatre, Shepherds Bush. I had been warned I was in the running, and on the night I was one of half a dozen who had major film presentations of their achievements, but I missed out again. I left the theatre with another disappointed sportsman Billy Wright, the England football captain; we travelled on the tube together and it was my only meeting with this gentleman of football.

Wins in a couple of club cross-country matches followed, before New Year's Eve and my annual pilgrimage to Nos Galan at Mountain Ash in South Wales. This year a mile race had been introduced, and in the afternoon I lined up in Penrhiwceiber to run the mile. It was quite tough with climbs and twists and turns through the rows of terraced houses. The winner of this first race was Bruce Tulloh in 4:37, and I managed second place in 4:44, and it was a good warm-up for the real event at a few minutes to midnight. As always there was a huge crowd in Mountain Ash. Before the race I had the usual visit to the cottage hospital to meet the patients there; mostly pregnant women and a few miners. Then it was changing in the pithead baths, before lining up and waiting for the beacon to be lit by the ‘Mystery Runner' to set us on our way. The Mystery Runner this year was Ken Norris. It was another great race, but this time I had to accept second best and Frank Salvat won the race, but my second place time was 18:49, just three seconds slower than my record time in 1958.

Two days later, I was winning the Berkshire Cross-Country in 43:38 for the eight mile course.

We were then in 1960, Olympic Year, the aspiration of any athlete was to take part, and my performances the previous year set me up to be there, or so I thought.

The next race was the Inter Counties at Brighton, and this was the race I always liked to use to test how my training was going, as it was always just when I was getting into full winter training. I had a very satisfactory run in fifth place with 36:31 for the seven mile course, which was pretty tough with some steep hills.

After one more club race win, I was off on that trip to San Sebastian again where I fared no better than the previous year, finishing twentieth on this occasion, but two minutes slower. The San Sebastian races were great events, and there was always a crowd of around 25,000 watching the races, mainly from the hills around the course. Gerry North was the winner this year, and the England team won the team race.

Just one week later I was in Hannut, Belgium, for another major cross-country where I did a little better, coming third in 36:15 for 11,000 metres, behind the winner Hedwig Leenaert (Belgium) in 35:51, and Allonsius, also Belgium, in 36:09. There were some good men behind me, including Vandwattyne (Belgium) fifth, Michel Bernard (France) who was eighth, and the great Gaston Roelants (Belgium) fifteenth. The England team, which included Brian Hill-Cottingham running his first international in sixth place, were well beaten in the team race by the home team. Looking back to the press cuttings of the race, I see that the English squad were far from happy about the race. I was quoted as saying
“We didn't even know the race had begun until we saw the Belgians move off. It was a farce of a start”
. Another member of the team Mike Maynard, who finished seventeenth said
“And when we did get going, we had to push spectators out of the way. It was awful”.

The Southern Counties race followed within a few days and the travelling had taken its toll, and I could only finish third on the tough Parliament Hill course, behind the winner John Merriman and second placed Bruce Tulloh.

Over the following four weeks, I won four club and police races quite easily and I was beginning to get back to form. On 12
th
March it was the National Cross-Country at West Bromwich, and I had eased back on my 100 mile a week training, and it paid off with third place in 45:45 for the usual nine miles. The event winner was Basil Heatley in 45:15, from John Merriman, 45:42. Gerry North was just behind me with John Anderson fifth, Fred Norris sixth, Gordon Pirie seventh and Bruce Tulloh eighth.

I was selected for the England team again, and the international was to be held at Glasgow just two weeks later. In between I had the usual ritual of running and winning the Police AA race again, and fortunately it was nine days before the Glasgow race and not two days as in previous years. The race was won by A. Rhadi (Morocco) in 43:33, Gaston Roelants was second, John Merriman (Wales) third, Basil Heatley fourth, Fred Norris sixth, the very consistent Frank Sando eighth and Harry Minshall ninth. I finished tenth in Glasgow and scored for England for the third successive year, and we won the team race again. It wasn't bad but I had slid from first to fifth to tenth over the three years.

One more cross-country race between the police and REME, which I won, and then it was back on the road and one of my regular favourite events the Uxbridge Road Relay, with another fastest time of 26:38, but just outside the record set the previous year.

I again won the Maidenhead 10 on Easter Monday, in 51:33, just seventeen seconds slower than my 1959 winning time, and forty-one seconds slower than my best time set when I came second in 1958. They were all good times, and bearing in mind the course at Maidenhead was 770 yards over distance, and that extra bit would have taken over two minutes, it was still the equivalent of around 49:30 for ten miles.

My first track race was ten days later, when I again ran in the annual AAA v Oxford University match. I only finished fourth in 8:52.8, but two days later I did win the Southern Counties six mile in 28:44.4.

A friendly invitation two mile race followed at Alton, where my opponents were Martin Hyman and Bruce Tulloh amongst others, and I took second place behind Tulloh in 8:56.

Races at Hornchurch and Portsmouth followed, before I had a very special invitation to run a 5,000 metres crowd warmer at Hampden Park, Glasgow, before the European Cup Final between Real Madrid and Eintracht. Things did not start well, as I had to fit it in with my police duties and was due to fly up from Heathrow on the morning of the race. I arrived at Heathrow too late for my flight, and although they were used to me arriving late and were always very helpful at getting me on the plane at the last moment, they could not help on this occasion as the plane was in the air. I explained my plight and I was lucky. The big wigs of the FA had a charter flight going to the match and Sir Stanley Rous, who was one of them, was approached and I got my seat.

There were only six of us invited to run in this crowd warmer, and these were Derek Ibbotson, Basil Heatley, Graham Everett (British mile champion in 1958), Alistair Wood the holder of the Scottish records at four, five and six miles, Andrew Brown the holder of the other Scottish distance record the three mile, and myself. The crowd was already very large when we were sent on our way, and the atmosphere was electric. I finished third in 14:26.6, and then the big match started. We had very good seats to watch the game, and although not a great football fan, it was a great match with many goals and the game flowed one end to the other. Afterwards we joined the dinner for the teams, and next morning it was back to reality and the beat. I did get my flight home; they made sure by depositing me at the airport in plenty of time.

I was well known at Heathrow and always got VIP treatment. I seldom went through the conventional customs routine, as I was nearly always met by a member of Special Branch who was a friend of the family, and he used to meet me from the plane and take me straight to wherever I needed to go. I remember on one occasion when I was taken through the VIP lounge as usual, I was amazed to see so many photographers and press men. I didn't think my recent exploits justified such attention, but my attention was then drawn to a man in white; it was Pundit Nehru, Prime Minister of India.

A home match at Windsor followed, and then a rare treat, a whole week without a race but some good solid training with eleven sessions which included some very good ones. On the Tuesday I ran a three-quarter mile in 3:18, followed by two laps slow, and then 880 yards in 2:01, one lap slow and then 440 yards in sixty-four seconds; finishing with 4 × 220 yards in 30, 28, 30 and 25 seconds. That was the first of two sessions that day.

The first Saturday in June was the usual bank holiday meeting at the White City, and running for Berkshire on the Saturday I only managed fourth in the three miles with 13:54.2. Within two hours I was at Harrow, taking part in a two mile race at the Kodak Sports (there were good prizes at this meet) and I was second in 9:15 on the grass track. This was followed by a light run on the Sunday, and back to the White City on Monday for an invitation 3,000 metres, where I was badly left behind and came ninth in 8:15.8. A few days later I was running a 1,500 metres at Hayes where I came fifth in 4:5.

My health problem was playing me up, and my running was very erratic at this time. Some good training sessions but not very successful races. Apart from minor races I had not won a race since the Southern 6, in April.

My luck was to change; at least for one race. I was selected to run 10,000 metres for England against Italy at the White City, and I did win in a reasonable if unspectacular time of 29:30.

A 5,000 metres running for the South against the North and Midlands followed, and I could only manage second in a very poor time of 14:33. At the end of June I ran the Southern Counties three miles, but no win as I had in previous years, and I ran my fourth place in 13:36.8.

On the 1
st
July 1960 I flew to Moscow for a meeting I will never forget. It was only a very small group that flew from Heathrow with me. There was an elderly team manager, Arthur Rowe the shot-put king, and two others. The first sign of trouble was when we arrived at Moscow Airport. We were kept waiting for a long time and the officials there picked on the biggest of us, Arthur, and having examined his passport, they claimed it was not genuine, or forged, or something. It was of course complete nonsense, but it was a way of mucking us about. What was the problem and why were they doing this?

During the last week in June, the ‘big three', Eisenhower, Khrushchev and Macmillan, had been having talks in Paris, and at the end of the week the U-2 pilot Gary Powers was shot down spying over the Soviet Union. The talks were broken off, the cold war was on with a vengeance and there was great anti-American and British feeling in Moscow.

Eventually we did get released and taken to our hotel off Red Square. The atmosphere was very tense and we were told to stay in the hotel. It was not like our triumphant trip to the city twelve months earlier. On Saturday evening we were conveyed to the Lenin Stadium, and I did not think any of us were in the right frame of mind to perform at our best. I ran in the 5,000 metres, came sixth in 14:22.8, and on the Sunday evening the meeting continued, and I ran 10,000 metres and came tenth in 29:42.8.

That was not the end of the story; after the Sunday evening meet we went back to our hotel and were told that we would probably not be allowed home; in effect, I suppose we were under house arrest. Back in the hotel I was elected to try and sort the problem as our old retired schoolmaster manager found the whole situation beyond his understanding. The first thing I did was to telephone the British Embassy. They told me they were also confined and could not get to us, and their advice was that there would be a BEA plane taking off from the airport very early, I think about 7 a.m. on Monday morning. They advised me to get everyone up early and to make our way to the airport, and they said they were pretty sure no one would actively try and prevent us leaving.

Next morning we were up very early; not difficult as I doubt whether any of us slept that well in the circumstances. There was no one about in the hotel as we quietly packed and made our way down the stairs and out into Red Square. I hailed a taxi and showed our air tickets, and he agreed to take us to the airport. When we arrived there we handed over all the rubles we had, which just about covered the fare, and made our way into the departure area, or so we thought; the only problem was there were different terminals like Heathrow and any other major airport, and we had deposited ourselves at the one for internal flights to Siberia. We had no more money and we had virtually no words of Russian between us. Somehow we got on an airport bus and although we should have paid, we somehow got a free ride, and got to the appropriate part of the airport. There was no announcement or display of our flight, but we did find two BEA stewardesses and they explained that the plane was waiting and it would take-off fairly shortly. Next problem, big Arthur, who like the rest of us had gone without his breakfast, insisted he had to get something to eat. He gave me his passport and joined a queue for some food. With that we were told to board the aircraft and we all did with the exception of Arthur. The captain told us we had to take-off quickly and there was no time for delay. Just as they were wheeling the aircraft steps away there was a commotion at the airport buildings, and Arthur could be seen pushing a couple of armed guards away and sprinting towards us. It was up the steps, and I think he had to jump from them into the plane as they were moving away. We were off, and all that trouble had got him just a couple of pretty awful hard boiled eggs. It was our “Retreat from Moscow”.

It was at this meeting in Moscow that I came across something new in the athletic world. A new world record was set by a woman in the 800 metres, and she was literally taken onto the track and off it by men in white coats. As far as we could make out, hypnotism had been used on her to enable her to run beyond the pain barrier.