Hundred-yard dashes require the same training as seventy-five-yard spurts; and so do hundred-and-twenty-yard races. The longest sprint race, and the most severe of all, is the furlong dash – two hundred and twenty yards. This kind of racing is a tremendous strain on the lungs and heart, as the same pace which carries the runner over the hundred yard track has to be kept up and even increased. It requires a broad deep chest in the runner, with little flesh, and that hard and firm. To train for such a race requires at least a year's practice, and amateurs would do well to leave it alone altogether.
TO TRAIN FOR MILE OR TWO-MILE WALKS
Here the first requisite is a track for practice, and the directions for sprinter's training will serve in all respects as to diet and medicine. The period of training however needs to be longer, the mile walker needing more time to perfect his style and speed. The margin of difference between a green sprinter and a trained one is only a few seconds, but the green walker has to overcome a difference of several minutes before he can hope for success in a mile match. His exercise has one great advantage about it, that it aids him to train himself into first class condition. If he will study to acquire the walk of the professional, described in previous chapters, he will be able in six weeks to cut down his mile record from twelve minutes to less than nine, and will have a fair chance in any amateur race. When he can do a mile in eight minutes, he can enter with a fair degree of confidence almost anywhere, and can travel round to country races carrying all before him.
TRAINING FOR MILE RUNS
Here the training should be long and severe, and no amateur can hope to do very much in mile runs in the way of time. It is true that there are some young men, calling themselves amateurs, that have made fine records at mile runs, but they were in reality professionals; that is, they made a business of running, even if they did not take money prizes. Begin with sprint racing if you hope to become eminent as a mile runner, and keep on extending the length of your trials gradually. It takes a good year's hard work to make a respectable mile-runner.
TRAINING FOR LONG RUNS
Here it is difficult, if not impossible, to give any fixed rules beyond those indicated at the earlier part of this chapter. The best way is to get a good trainer, put yourself in his hands and follow his instructions faithfully.
LAYING OUT A TRACK
Nothing is so common a cause of spoiling a walking or running record as "a short track." This is peculiarly the case in the country, where pedestrian contests are apt to be conducted in a rough manner, unaccompanied by the guards found to be essential in the first-class matches held in large cities. Too much care cannot be exercised in measuring a track; and it is always best to secure the services of the official engineer of the county or town as a measurer to make sure of the proper length. The reason for securing an engineer rather than trusting to your own measurement is that engineers can always be depended on to use standard measures, made of metal, which do not stretch. Common measuring tapes, being made of woven materials or leather, are liable to many errors from stretching or shrinking; and though these may not amount to more than a few inches in a fifty-foot tape, they make a serious hole in a record of five hundred miles.
Sometimes these mistakes will occur in the best regulated contests, as became evident after the Astley belt match of 1879 in Gilmore's Garden. There was a great deal of litigation and dispute between the representatives of the Astley and O'Leary parties before this match came off; and the O'Leary people, who took possession of the Garden the week after the match, in their eagerness to find some fault with their predecessors, had the track remeasured. The result showed that the track used in the Astley belt match lacked several feet of being a full furlong, and the difference spoiled all the records, taking six or eight miles off Rowell's excellent performance.
The commonest cause of country records being bad is that country pedestrians too frequently use horse-racing tracks, which are measured in a peculiar manner. In a horse-race, especially in a trotting contest with wheels, the mile or half-mile line runs in the middle, or near the middle of the track, to equalize the chances of horses starting abreast. The advantage of "hugging the pole" – keeping to the inside of this line – on a circular or elliptic track, are too obvious to be enlarged upon, but the ardor of the horses seldom permits one to hold this advantage long, and the animals are continually crossing the line of distance, thereby making a serpentine course which equalizes the chances of all.
In pedestrian contests, on the other hand, each man hugs the rail as close as he can, and therefore the track must always be measured close to the inside rail.
In a hall or theater, where most walking tracks have been laid, the length must be suited to the capacity of the building; but when an open air track is available, there is no question as to the necessity of making it some simple multiple of a mile. A quarter-mile open air track would be the beau-ideal of a place for summer pedestrian contests, but if a half-mile or mile track is to be used, where one already exists for trotting contests, it will be necessary to lay out a second railing at the proper distance from the horse-rail, to enable the record to be made in the only way it can count.
Open air tracks, however, are not fit for six-day matches, on account of the liability to rain, and dew, which would spoil the track for walkers by making it muddy. Moreover, such tracks are seldom found near enough to cities to admit of the crowds that are necessary to make a foot-race pay. Horse racing is the pastime of rich people, who can afford to enjoy their amusement without regard to cost; but pedestrian matches are dependent on large crowds of spectators who must be tempted to drop in at any and all times. Therefore it is that pedestrian matches are almost always, and six-day contests invariably, held in large buildings, under cover; and the average length of track is either 110 or 220 yards, so as to make either eight or sixteen "laps" to the mile. The word "lap" has now become so familiar that few people reflect that it is merely the revival of an obsolete word meaning "to turn," and that so many "laps" mean so many "turns." If the building is large enough to hold an eight-lap track, it is to be preferred; but failing that, one must be satisfied with a ten, twelve, or sixteen lap track. For the convenience of our readers, we furnish a table of lengths of tracks, making so many laps to the mile:
This table shows the kind of tracks to avoid as difficult to measure. They are the thirteen and fourteen-lap tracks, which contain fractions that involve a division of inches and are so far improper. All the others are easily measured.
Next to the length comes the question of the best shape of track and the size of the building which controls it. The greatest possible length to be secured in any given building would obviously be in a line which should run against the outer wall all round, leaving the seats for the spectators in the center. This plan is open, however, to two objections. First, the spectators could only see the men when they were on their own side of the track; and, second, the pedestrians would have to turn four sharp corners in every lap round an ordinary building. These things must be avoided somehow. The pedestrians must at all times be visible from every point of the house and the corners of their track must be rounded for them to make the going easy.
The next form of track which would suggest itself is a circular one, in the middle of the building, but this has its own objection. A circular track is sure to produce dizziness, especially if it be a small one. The experience of the past few years has therefore dictated the use of the largest buildings only, with tracks where straight lines and curves are blended into a sort of ellipse; and the proportion of each adopted in Agricultural Hall, London, and Gilmore's Garden, New York, has proved itself capable of giving the best results in time to the men and comfort to the spectators.
These now famous tracks have a center formed by a parallelogram, with the upper and lower ends rounded into semi-circles. This center is longer than it is broad, and leaves about two-thirds of the track – the sides – in nearly straight lines, the circular parts at the ends being each one one-sixth of the whole distance. If only two men are competing, as in the O'Leary matches with Hughes and Campana, the path is broad enough to lay out two tracks, on which the men can walk without interfering with each other's movements. This is the fairest plan; but if there are more than two competitors they use a single eight-lap track, where the man who wishes to pass his opponent has to do so on the outside, before he can take the rail in front of him.
The center around which the track runs is a good place for spectators who wish to see the men closely; and is always occupied by a crowd of people, moving from side to side, and cheering vehemently at the more exciting portions of the race.
To reach this center visitors have to cross the track; but this, though objectionable, has not yet been found to have any very bad effects. All round the other side of the broad pathway are the rows of benches and private boxes where are seated the great mass of the spectators who do not care to stand. The only objection to Gilmore's, now Madison Square Garden, as a place for pedestrian contests, is the fact that the building is cheaply constructed, with a large number of wooden pillars which interrupt the view of portions of the track; but this defect is not serious in a race, where the point of view is constantly shifting.
We give on the frontispiece a diagram of the general arrangement of a building on the same principle as Madison Square Garden.
The model hall is of the largest size used, but gives a longer track. The inside path, shortest of all, measures eight laps to the mile, while a track laid out on the dotted line will give only seven laps to the mile. This line is fifteen feet and a quarter of an inch from the inner rail. The eight-lap track is five feet wide, to give ample room for each competitor to pass the other on the outside if he can. Each track has two straight stretches of 220 feet each, and a semi-circular turn at each end. The diameter of the eight-lap semi-circles is seventy feet three inches, and that of the seven-lap tracks is one-hundred feet and half an inch. In each case the actual measurement of the track will be a trifle over, rather than under the calculated distance, which must be tested by the measuring tape when the rail is set up. If it prove long, the rail is bent in, if short pushed out, till the tape just fits.
Those who cannot secure an engineer or official surveyor to measure their tracks are advised to use brass chains or steel tapes, especially the last, which are very handy.
A hall of the size given will hold thirteen thousand spectators when the whole of the ring is crowded with standers, as it was at the close of every Astley Belt match in New York, while there are good seats for seven thousand people outside the track, in a building 400 by 200 feet. The main path on which the different lap tracks are constructed, is twenty-five feet wide, to accommodate races where the starters are numerous, such as sprints of seventy-five yards or upward.
This size of building and track will be found the best for large cities, on account of the advantages it gives for the meetings of athletic clubs, who always have two or more sprint races and handicap mile or two-mile walks. Hundred-yard dashes on such a track are made down one side, with the least possible turn; and by laying the finishing line on a slant across the curve at the end, the outside men can be favored enough to make all run just the same distance. There is no trouble about starting five or six men at a time on such a track.
The following estimates will show how, by following the same general outline and proportions, smaller buildings can accommodate the greatest number of spectators and the greatest length of track.
A building 100 feet by 50 will hold a railed inclosure 72 feet 6 inches long by 17 feet 6 inches across, giving a track 155 feet 3 inches long, 34 laps to the mile, and 8 feet wide, with accommodation for 800 spectators inside and outside the ring, 400 having seats.
A building 200 by 100 feet will hold a 16-lap track and nearly 3500 people, seating 1600.
A building 150 by 75 feet will hold a 24-lap track, and 2000 spectators, 1000 on seats.
With these general data and the diagram, a calculation of the capacity of any given building is easy. The main point is to have as long a track as can be squeezed in, consistently with securing a good view for the largest number of spectators.
Having treated of the best shape for a pedestrian track, the next question comes as to the materials of which it should be made.
Bearing in mind that the broad twenty-five foot track is to be a permanency for the use of athletic clubs and sprint races, it will have to undergo a great deal of wear and tear, and requires a firm smooth surface. Simple dirt will get trodden into ridges or become loose and heavy, while a stone pavement is too hard. An asphalt pavement, laid on the bare earth, gives a mixture of elasticity and firmness that suits sprint races very well, and has the further advantage of being easily repaired. For the main track, a thick covering of asphalt can hardly be bettered.
For six-day walks, however, the main track is altogether too hard. The long continuance of such walks makes the feet of the pedestrians very tender, and they require something softer.
Tanbark and sawdust are the agents used to build a special walking track, and the latter is far the most common. The best kind of track that has been laid in the United States, and one that has served as a model for all others since, was that used in the Astley Belt match, won by Rowell in 1879 from O'Leary, Harriman and Ennis. This track was bordered on both sides with planks, and filled with some three inches of dry sawdust, smoothed with rollers. After O'Leary's retirement, the track was sprinkled with water and rolled all the time, the roller having to keep out of the way of the pedestrians. This path, thus rolled and wetted into firmness, was the perfection of a walking track. The dry sawdust was too soft and slippery, but the wet rolled path was perfection. It made no dust, was always springy and elastic, soft and cool to the foot, and conducive to good time. Such a path can hardly be bettered by any means with which the sporting world is now acquainted, and it is so easily made anywhere that we can heartily recommend it. Open air tracks for summer sprint-racing can hardly follow a better model than a common trotting track, but if a turf surface, level and free from stones, holes or roots, can be secured, it is still better except in a long drought, when the turf becomes very slippery.
CONDUCTING A MATCH
The management of a pedestrian match of whatever kind is by no means an easy matter, and one that increases in difficulty with the magnitude of the prizes involved. Large prizes are sure to attract numerous competitors, and large crowds of spectators generally follow the athletes. Every year sees a number of athletic games held in our large cities, such as New York, Boston, Chicago, Philadelphia, Cincinnati or St. Louis, but it is safe to say that not ten per cent. of these are even fairly carried out, while most are sad scenes of confusion. In New York city the only club that gives thoroughly satisfactory exhibitions is the New York Athletic, and the only well-conducted six-day matches involving more than two competitors have been the Astley and O'Leary Belt matches.
This statement involves a short account of the difficulties incident to a large pedestrian match or athletic meeting.
The troubles arise from two causes, numerous competitors and numerous spectators. These require a numerous staff to attend to their wants and prevent disorder and waste of money.
Let us first take the spectators. To bring them in is the ambition of every man or club that gives a match. To do so requires that the entertainment shall be well and plainly advertised; and it is not every one who can draw up an advertisement properly. The daily papers must be visited by the managers to secure notices in the news columns; and the walls of conspicuous buildings must be lined with show-bills, setting forth the place and date of the show, with the price of admission. Every bill should contain this information, but a great many amateur club bills do not contain it.
Having attracted the people, the next thing is to admit them in such a way that no one shall get in without paying or on a complimentary ticket, and that the tickets shall act as a check on the money-takers' accounts. We have seen amateur shows where the man at the door took money and tickets indifferently, so that the managers were entirely at the mercy of his honesty. It is therefore absolutely necessary that two persons should be at the door, one to take the tickets, the other to sell them, and no person should be admitted except by a ticket of some sort. The tickets should, as fast as received, be dropped into a box with a slit at the top, the box to be locked and the manager to have the key. The tickets sold at the office should be of different color from the complimentaries, of which the manager should be sole custodian.
At the "counting of the house" the ticket-box is unlocked, the tickets carefully counted, and the result shows how much money ought to be in the box-office. In a six-day match, where the receipts are very large and constantly accumulating, it is usual to have two sets of ticket-takers and box-office men, and to count the house morning and evening.
In large matches, too, the managers are sometimes obliged to change the shape, color and appearance of their tickets from day to day, to avoid the introduction of forgeries, while detectives are necessary to watch the ticket-takers for fear they may be in collusion with the box-office man.
Within the house, if there are any reserved seats, it is necessary to have ushers to direct the holders of coupons to their proper places, but reserved seats are not much in favor at walking matches.
In large matches where there is a great mixed crowd, the attendance of the police is frequently advisable to prevent attacks on competitors by the backers of men opposed to them. Had it not been for the police, Rowell and Hazael would have both probably been severely hurt, if not disabled for life at the last Astley Belt match.
With regard to the competitors, the duty of the management is confined to giving them a good track, air as pure as possible, with responsible scorers and timers. Their quarters and diet are matters for their own attention, and depend on the finances of each. It has become customary to set up tents for all competitors in a six-day match round the inside rail and opening on the track. These tents are in fact preferable to huts of board, unless the weather is very cold indeed, but they should be provided with camp stoves in case it becomes necessary to give the competitor a warm bath, as frequently happens.
The duties of the management as regards a good track for a six-day match have already been explained. It is also their duty to see that a sufficient force of scorers and timers is on hand. Where the competitors are few this is not difficult, but where there are fifty or more it demands great care to prevent confusion. In a six-day match it is usual to have twelve relays of scorers, volunteers from the various athletic clubs who take every alternate twelve hours from Monday to Saturday inclusive.
The system of scoring adopted and used at the late great walk in Madison Square Garden was a great advance on all previous efforts and could hardly be excelled for simplicity and accuracy. There were sixty competitors, and each had to be recognized and scored eight times for every mile, or four thousand times in five hundred miles, in such a manner that there could be no mistake as to his identity. To effect this result the following were the arrangements:
Each competitor carried the number of his entry in figures a foot long on his left breast, and they were started in sets of four or six, to each of which was given a special timer and scorer. It was the timer's business to watch for his numbers and no one else's, and to call them out every time they came by the stand. Behind him sat the scorer with his book, and it was his business to make a mark against each number as called by the timer, columns being ruled for that purpose in the book. Thus each man attended to his business, without any temptation to increase or diminish his scores.
Besides attending to the scoring of the competitors, the management owes a duty to the spectators of announcing the results of that scoring through the varying fortunes of the race. This is generally done by means of a large blackboard, whereon the names and scores of the leaders are chalked up, so that every one can see them; but where the competitors are numerous this will not serve for all, and another method is taken at the scoring stand where each man has his name on a placard two feet long, underneath which are placed two more placards one bearing the word "miles," the other the word "laps." Before each of these is a vacancy where a number can be hung, and each name has a man to attend to it, whose duty is to move the "mile" and "lap" numbers as they change. In the last match dials with pointers were substituted for the cards, with the advantage of increased simplicity.
So much for six-day professional matches, which are the best managed as a rule. Something remains to be said about amateur walks and runs, because they are subject to much mismanagement. The New York Athletic Club is in fact almost the only organization in the metropolis that gives thoroughly enjoyable entertainments, because they are properly managed.
The reason of the trouble at most amateur matches is that the competitors are not kept in proper discipline, but are allowed to run over the management, violate rules, interfere, argue, protest and grumble, till the managers lose their heads in the confusion. The first thing for the managers of an athletic meeting to do is to make a set of rules that will cover all conceivable cases, and then to stick to them, and no better example of such rules can be given than those of the New York Athletic Club, which will be found in a later chapter.
The troubles generally arise in questions of time and precedence among a large number of walkers, for it is in square walking contests that the dispute generally occurs. There may be fifty or more men at the scratch and all or most have walked fairly enough till near the finish, when they have tried on their most knowing tricks to cover up a run and get in first. It is here that the experience and temper of the judges are most severely tried. They may have to rule out as many as three or four men and give the first prize to a man who crosses the score third or fourth, and this is a difficult thing to do without appearing unjust.