From the Editor – RUSS EBBETS
The Bunion Derby
The general public has long been fascinated by feats of human performance. If you think back to the days of P.T. Barnum and his circus, the side shows were a stunning collection of strong men and women along with human oddities that kept the “suckers” amazed and returning year after year.
In Bill Pearl’s book, Getting Stronger (Shelter Publications) he chronicles a number of early strong men whose demonstrations defied imagination. These guys lifted huge dumbbells, bent steel bars and ripped decks of playing cards in half signifying much more than just the simple vitality of a firm handshake.
It seems difficult to imagine in our “all news, all the time” times that anyone would pay to watch a dance marathon or the 17,000 laps of a 6-day bicycle race, but in the 1930’s the bicycle race was a financial mainstay for promoters and routinely sold out Madison Square Garden.
Walking feats date back to the early 1800’s when Robert Barclay Allardice walked one mile every hour for 1000 consecutive hours, covering 1000 miles. It took him 42 days to complete this feat. No doubt he suffered from “sleeptus interruptus.”
For the last 100 years a more popular endurance endeavor has been to walk 100 miles in a 24-hour period. This feat earns one the title of Centurion. To date fewer than 100 Americans have accomplished this feat, compared to over 1000 UK walkers. For those challenged by the math these walkers averaged 4.16 mph for 24 hours. Just try walking 4 mph on a treadmill.
Running seemed to lag behind all this hoopla. Even the venerable Boston Marathon drew small fields with only 18 runners in the inaugural event. It took 30 years before the race finally cracked 200 starters. The low participation rate may have been due to the dire predictions of medical authorities that warned of cardiovascular collapse. Clarence DeMar won the race seven times and had a different opinion. He’s reported to have eulogized one of his marathon buddies, who died at 110 years old, “The experts said it was running that killed him.”
The attitudes about running all began to change with an idea from Charles C. Pyle. Sports promotor C.C. Pyle (a.k.a. Cash & Carry) got the idea for a 3400 mile run across America to promote the completion of the famous Route 66, America’s first transcontinental highway set to open in 1928. Professional runners from 24 nations signed up to participate. The first place prize was $25,000. That prize was figured to be the equivalent of 20 years salary for the average American working man. The race began with 199 runners.
Despite the glorious anticipated payday, hills, heat and the grind of 60-mile days thinned the ranks by 70 runners after the first week. Dubbed “The Bunion Derby” by the press and championed by Pyle’s incessant promotion, the Bunion Derby soon captured the imagination of the country.
With competitors from Europe, Africa and North America everyone had someone to cheer for. The race was set up like the Tour de France with daily destinations and cumulative segmental timing. Each day was a new day with rabbits and hares and the endless miles. National interest continued to grow as the ultramarathoners crept their way across the US.
Famed distance runner Arthur Newton from South Africa was one of the early favorites and early casualties. Soon three runners began to separate from the field, Englishman Peter Gavuzzi, New Jersey’s John Salo and Oklahoma’s 20-year-old Andy Payne.
In Ohio Gavuzzi dropped out due to dental problems and the battle for the top two spots was set. Early on Payne ran with a bout of tonsillitis but was able to remain competitive. It was in his native Oklahoma where he inched to the lead. From that point on he was never bested and labored on to a 15-hour victory by the race’s end in New York City.
The final leg of the 84-day race was a grueling 20-mile run around the board track at Madison Square Garden. At this point only 55 runners remained. Payne negotiated the 200+ laps in front of an enthusiastic crowd to win the well earned grand prize.
The race was contested a few times more and went through several reincarnations but it never again captured the national attention of the inaugural race. Payne raced a few more times and went on to graduate from law school. He invested his prize money in Oklahoma land that eventually produced oil and gas. Salo won the 1929 Trans-America race only to die an untimely death two years later after being struck in the head by a wild throw at a baseball game.
The running boom of the 1980’s was some 50 years away, but these early pioneers laid the roadwork that legitimized long distance running and served as living examples of the limits of human endurance. USATF National Chairperson of the Mountain Ultra Trail Council Nancy Hobbs has more to say on the subject in her interview in this issue.
Finally, it bears mention of the passing of Coach Ed Bowes of Bishop Loughlin High School in Brooklyn. For almost 50 years any runner from the New York metropolitan area (and well beyond) was touched by Ed’s dedication to the sport. He founded and served as race director for the Manhattan Cross Country Invitational held each fall at Van Cortlandt Park. The Manhattan Invite is touted as the largest high school XC meet in America with over 10,000 yearly participants.
The Bishop Loughlin Games are a yearly fixture in the metropolitan New York indoor scene. Ed also had some success as a coach. It is a lifetime achievement for a high school coach to have a distance medley relay team compete in the Championship of America race at the Penn Relays. Ed has the singular distinction of having Loughlin teams win the race three times. Ed was a mentor to many and a friend to all. May you rest in peace.