Still Running (weakly). Issue 145

PAST – inspiration – “Tonight I'm going to shower and then just walk for about four hours and look at the moon,” said Rafer Johnson after he had won the 1960 Olympic decathlon.  Across the two days of competition, he had waged a titanic battle with CK Yang of Taiwan, who was actually a teammate and training partner of Johnson’s at the University of California at Los Angeles (UCLA.)

The Olympic contest came down to the final event, the 1500 metres, with Yang needing to beat the American by about 8 seconds to win, something that previous form had shown he was quite capable of doing.  But Johnson hung onto his friend and managed to lose by only 1.2 seconds and claim gold.

(Yang later became known as, “the man who broke the tables,” in decathlon circles, because he was so good at the pole vault that the decathlon scoring tables did not go that high!  He was expected to win gold in Tokyo 1964 but was poisoned by Chinese agents who did not want Taiwan to get the glory.  Severely weakened, he could only come fifth.)

Johnson had a remarkable life.  He had also won Olympic silver in 1956 and Pan American gold in 1955.  He was chosen to light the Olympic flame at the 1984 Los Angeles Olympic opening ceremony.  As a prominent African American, he often faced discrimination: once, in Oklahoma, he was refused a motel room, when he was in fact going to meet the State Governor the next day.  A tireless campaigner for equal rights, he worked with Robert Kennedy for many years.  He was the man who disarmed Kennedy’s assassin, Sirhan Sirhan, when the Democratic candidate was fatally shot in 1968.

PRESENT – perspiration – “Ah, but how would they score in the Decathlon of Life?” is a question I often ponder – especially when someone achieves outstanding success in one field, whilst holding a questionable track record in other spheres.

The Decathlon of Life, instead of scoring a person on performance in the 100, long jump, shot, high jump, 400, 110 hurdles, discus, pole vault, javelin and 1500 disciplines of the athletic event, would rate a human being on attributes such as family life, friendship, parenting, health, fitness, humour, career, learning, pastimes and spirituality.

History is littered with high profile politicians with lamentable moral codes (can’t think of any current examples.)  Many world-class sportspeople treat their families appallingly.  Successful businesspeople often become so at the expense of their homelife, their happiness and their health.  And, in recent years, showbusiness personalities have been revealed to have used their positions of influence in ways that I can only describe as evil.

On the other hand, there are people who seem to tick many boxes.  Paula Radcliffe, who also seems to be a lovely person, used to win major races and set world records – and then answer interviewers’ questions in fluent French and German, as well as English.

I am also reminded of Bannister’s four-minute mile: he and his two pacemakers – Chris Brasher (Olympic gold) and Chris Chataway (Commonwealth gold) – achieved outstanding success in other fields.  Roger Bannister himself was knighted – not for his athletic exploits – but for his being the first Chairman of the Sports Council.  He also said that his proudest achievement was not his 3:59.4 on 6ht May 1954, but his research in the field of neurology.  Brasher had many successful business interests and founded the London Marathon.  Chataway was a very successful businessman and, for a time, an MP.  (I fully agree that, until recently, the opportunity to achieve success on multiple fronts was something denied women.)

Perhaps most outstandingly of all, CB Fry (1872-1956) held the world long jump record, played in an FA Cup Final, topped the England batting averages in six seasons, was a notable classical scholar, and became a politician so successful and well-respected that the Treaty of Versailes (1919) proposed that he be crowned King of Albania!

FUTURE – suggestion – The logical future suggestion this week would be for me to encourage you to attempt a decathlon – or, more pompously, to rate yourself on my Decathlon of Life system!

The decathlon?  Have you seen the height of the 110 metres hurdles?  3 foot 6!  I might have a go with a trampoline on one side and a mattress on the other.  And the pole vault is surely only for suicidal gymnasts.  The rest of the events you could probably get away with, but try not to kill the officials as your attempts at the throws result in shots, discuses and javelins leaving your hand at unpredictable angles.  You would, though, probably enjoy the 1500 more than the rest of the muscle-bound field.

The Decathlon of Life is perhaps something we could all keep an eye on from time to time – not to beat ourselves up with, but perhaps as a means of consolation.  When I have a bad day at work, I try and extricate myself from self-pity and think about ways to turn the day around – go for a run, phone my son, write a good pun.

Conversely, a bad race can be rectified the following week (Rafer Johnson had to wait four years to turn his 1956 silver into 1960 gold) or simply and more sensibly by setting it the context of the rest of life – and focusing on being an extra good partner, parent, sibling, child, friend, teammate, member, neighbour or citizen.