Kitabı oku: «Handbook of Summer Athletic Sports», sayfa 2
For the first day he did so, but then found himself lame; and next day, in spite of all he could do, he fell behind inferior men and became a straggler. At the evening camp-fire, the second day, an old trapper noticed his condition and told him the secret of his non-success.
"You are walking in moccasins," said the hunter, "and you must learn to turn in your toes, as the Indians do."
Catlin took the advice, went to the head of the line next day, and had no more trouble in keeping his place.
The moral of the story is obvious. If you wish to last to the end of a match, turn your toes in.
SCIENTIFIC RUNNING
If there is anything which the records of modern pedestrianism settles, it is that we have yet a good deal to learn from savages. Here we have been walking matches and running other matches for the last fifty years, only to settle down into the regular Indian lope, or dog-trot, for long distance traveling, as faster and less exhausting than the fastest walk.
This pace, introduced for the first time into civilized contests by "Blower" Brown, Hazael, Corkey and Rowell, is the very same which the Indian runners of the forest tribes have used from time immemorial. It is the same with which the Hindoo palkee-bearers swing through the jungle for mile after mile under a tropic sun without apparent distress, and the universal method adopted by savage and semi-barbarous people whenever they wish to journey fast on foot. The civilized untrained man when he tries the same pace commonly makes a mess of it. "Old Sport," alias Campana, was a good exemplar of the civilized idea of a dog-trot – that of the old volunteer fire-brigade of New York city. It was a fair trot, but it would not last forever. Campana put up both arms, working his shoulders as in a walk, and lifted his feet high before and behind, with a weary-looking, lagging step. It entailed about the same exertion as a fast walk and got over the ground no faster. Too much work was wasted in perpendicular motion.
A model of truly scientific long-distance running is found in little Charley Rowell, whose style is an exact imitation of Brown, Corkey and Hazael. All four are men of about the same size and weight, standing five feet six inches, and weighing from 130 to 140 lbs. The probable reason for their taking to running was their small size, which debarred them from success as walkers against men with six inches more stride. As runners they have all glided into the same system, which is fairly represented in the cut above, taken from the attitude of Rowell.
The first thing that one notices about this figure is its ease, and the absence of all appearance of effort. The professional walker, in the cut in preceding chapter, looks as if he was walking hard, but this fellow seems trying to run as slow as he can. The fact is that, while not actually trying to go slow, he is trying to save himself as much exertion as is compatible with getting over the ground a little faster than the fastest walk. Such a pace is from six to eight miles an hour, and such a pace can be maintained by a well-trained man like Rowell after he is unable to walk over three miles an hour.
There are several points to notice about the attitude, especially the position of the head and the way the nose is elevated in the air. When Rowell started after O'Leary on his dog-trot with his nose in the air, people laughed at him and thought he was playing monkey tricks; but when Rowell kept his nose in the air for six days it began to be seen that he had a reason for so doing.
If any of our readers will try the experiment of running for a distance with the head down and then change to Rowell's plan, nose in air and teeth tightly clenched, they will be surprised at the difference in ease of respiration. Throwing up the head makes the passage from nose to windpipe nearly straight, and the air has no corners to turn before reaching the lungs. In fast running, or any long-continued exertion, it is necessary to keep the mouth closed, to prevent the rapid evaporation that takes place when the air comes in through the open mouth, parching up the throat. But if we try to breathe through the nose alone, with the head bent down, we find that the air does not come freely enough, and distress soon compels us to open the mouth, after which we are speedily at the end of our tether – and wind. Holding up the head in the fashion depicted in the cut renders a two hours' run a matter of comparative ease to a well-trained man, and enables one like Hazael to run his 137 miles in 26 hours.
The next point to notice about our long-distance friend is the position of his arms, which are slightly bent and held rigid by the sides, to steady the walls of the lungs and thus let the chest be kept fully dilated as long as possible. If the man in the cut were running a "sprint race" – that is for any distance inside of a furlong – his arms would go up to the same angles as those of the professional walker, because then he would be at top speed. As it is he is going as easily as he can, and does not run fast enough to be able to keep his arms up, without a conscious muscular exertion, which would tell in a race.
The art of long-distance running is one of real value to any one who wishes to increase the size of his legs to shapeliness, and to be able to go long steps rapidly with the least fatigue. This pace, alternated with walking whenever the breath fails, can be adopted by any person with advantage to health. The strain comes on the muscles of the front of the thigh and calf of the leg, and a return to walking rests these more completely than actual standing still. The combination of the two forms the "go-as-you-please" contest.
We have thus fully noticed long-distance running before treating of "sprint" races and other short dashes, because it is a more important branch of athletics. The correct system is one that can be readily acquired by all, old and young, and will be found of great value whenever one is in a hurry to go to a certain place. The regular long-distance trot will take a person further and faster than any other known method of unaided progression.
A few words about sprint running will appropriately close this chapter.
By the term "sprint" races are meant all those dashes at full speed which are not over a furlong in length. Seventy-five and one-hundred-yard dashes are the most common, and the question of excellence as a sprint racer, or "sprinter," depends on single seconds or fractions thereof in time, while the benefits derived from the practice are nothing like those of the mile or ten-mile runner. The form required, however, merits observation.
Sprint running is only an exaggeration of the system displayed in long-distance work. The arms rise as in fast walking, and for the same reasons, till they are doubled up. The work, being fast, requires that the lungs be kept expanded, therefore the arms are kept stiff and rigid to aid the chest muscles in holding out the walls of the thorax to give room to the lungs. The distribution of weight, on account of the rapid motion, comes to be much the same as in fast walking, but the knees are bent of necessity; because in running the progression is made by springs from toe to toe, instead of heel to heel. The same cause admits of the upper part of the body falling forward, though the elevation of nose and hollowing of back is even more important than in long-distance work, inasmuch as the exertion is more severe while it lasts. The cut on preceding page will illustrate the difference between the sprint runner and the long-distance man.
Having thus treated of scientific walking and running simply with regard to their mechanical action, we can next turn to the subject of the proper dress to be adopted to make both easy for the pedestrian.
DRESS FOR PEDESTRIANS
The first question of importance both to walkers and runners is how they shall be shod, and too much attention cannot be paid to this matter. We will begin with the needs of a walker.
It is not our intention to advertise any particular firm of shoemakers as unequaled in the manufacture of walking-shoes; for the fact is that the very best of the crack firms will turn out botch jobs if you do not watch them sharply.
There are four points to be attended to in the selection of walking-shoes: – First, the sole of the shoe must be under the whole of the foot; second, the uppers must be soft and flexible; third, the fit must be snug around the ankle and heel, but easy at the toes; fourth, the heels must be low and broad.
To secure the first of these points there is only one certain way, which is to stand in stocking feet on a piece of paper, and have the outline of your sole traced on the paper, the actual sole of the shoe being cut to this pattern, and never coming inside of the line.
The second and third points depend on your own vigilance and determination not to let the maker put off a stiff, ill-fitting pair of shoes on you. As for the last point, low broad heels, no heels at all would be better. Very low heels of India rubber would, however, diminish the jar of fast walking, and are worth more trial than they have yet had.
The only reason for having a heel on a walking-shoe is to enable it to resist the unequal wear that comes on that spot, and not to elevate the heel of the natural foot.
With regard to the first point, that of the sole being under the whole of the foot, this cannot be too much insisted on, for shoemakers will make them narrower, with the idea of giving an appearance of smallness to the feet. Your only remedy is to refuse to take all shoes where the maker does not follow exactly the paper pattern of sole.
The softness and flexibility of the uppers are more easily secured, as also the fit round the ankle, where walking-shoes should be laced. Buttoned boots or "Congress gaiters" with elastic sides are not fit to walk in, as neither can be accommodated to the size of a foot that is swelling during a severe match. Laces can be relaxed or tightened; buttons are inflexible; while elastic webbing always keeps the same pressure.
A professional walker, or one who is ambitious of excelling on the track will need six pairs of shoes in a long race, beginning with those that fit close and changing to those that are old, worn, and easy to the foot, as it becomes sore and inflamed. The man who rests his hopes of fame on mile-walks, needs a different foot-gear, analogous to that of the sprint runner, whom he resembles. Strong shoes are thrown away on him. He needs the very lightest kind of slipper that can be made, consistent with enough leather to preserve the foot from bruises, and the running slippers that are sold in all sporting warehouses are just the thing for this kind of work. Those that are furnished with spikes are well enough for running on turf, but to be avoided on hard tracks.
Next after the shoes, and equally great in importance, come the socks. There is only one point necessary to be observed about these: they should be of soft woolen and as thick as possible. Hand-knit are preferable to woven socks, but the thickness and softness are the great points, as these secure the absorption of the perspiration. Cotton socks would be sure to work into hard wrinkles in a match-walk and cause severe blisters, though it must be owned that these will sometimes occur in spite of all imaginable precautions.
About the rest of a pedestrian's dress there is but little to say; as it depends almost entirely on individual fancy. There is no doubt that the best dress for active work of all kinds is a suit of common white cotton tights, which cost less than two dollars, while trunk-breeches can be made at home at an almost nominal cost.
But whether the walker rejoice in silk tights and velvet trunks, or remain satisfied with the homely flannel drawers and cardigan jackets of Rowell, is a matter of indifference to his speed. The only things he cannot wear if he hopes to do good walking, are ulster overcoats and trowsers. In a word, his dress may be anything he likes, so long as it leaves his joints free; and this is why knee-breeches have never given way to trowsers on a walking-track.
Trowsers are in fact the worst dress possible for all active exercise. They cramp the knee and prevent its free action in a manner which, while it does not interfere materially with walking at ordinary rates of speed, affects a runner seriously by the time he has passed over a few yards at top speed.
TRAINING FOR A MATCH
The word "training" in modern times has come to comprise two separate branches of athletic science. The first is a system of practice on a special feat till the trained man accomplishes it with ease and certainty; the other and more important branch aims to bring the trained man to the highest pitch of health and strength.
When he has attained this point he is said to be in "condition."
It is plain therefore that a perfect system of training cannot afford to leave out either of these branches. A man may be trained to walk or run in the best possible style and fail in a race on account of poor condition; or again he may be in the finest physical condition and fail on account of defective system of walking or running.
The many races of the late champion Daniel O'Leary illustrate both these facts very sensibly. When he went to England to meet Weston and the great pedestrians, he kept himself in good condition, and used the best system of walking known. The consequence was that he was prepared at all points and beat all comers. When he came back to the United States he was pitted successively against Hughes and Campana, men whom he despised as opponents. Hughes was in excellent condition, but did not understand the science of either walking or running; and so tired himself out early in the race, which was easily won by O'Leary on a small record.
Next the champion met Campana, a man who began to run too late in life, and who then understood nothing but the jog trot for a day or two. As a walker he was nowhere, his system being so bad that he tired himself out when going at only four miles an hour. Here also O'Leary had an easy victory; but it is worthy of remark that he was more distressed to do four hundred miles in the Campana match, than he had been to accomplish five hundred and twenty in the first Astley belt match.
The whole reason was that he had allowed himself to get out of condition, and so found his system feverish when it should have been vigorous; while blisters that should have yielded to care rapidly increased in size and made the greater part of the walk a positive torture to him. It became evident that if he were to be pitted against a man in good condition with a good system, he would go under, and the next race realized the expectation. Coming against Rowell, Harriman and Ennis, all in fair condition, he broke down utterly and left the track for good.
Rowell, the winner of the match, is an example of the success which is sure to meet a man who combines perfect system and perfect condition. His opponents, Harriman and Ennis, while not in bad condition, were not models in that way. Harriman was too much of a vegetarian, and Ennis was always cursed with a rebellious stomach. The little Englishman on the other hand was in perfect condition and used a system of progression that exactly suited him. His short legs made a long walking stride impossible; therefore he took to trotting; but by dint of long practice acquired a trot which he could keep up for hours at a time, with no more fatigue than that involved in fast walking, while it covered more ground.
Later matches have but emphasized these points. The records of distance made in six-day contests have gradually risen, as man after man has acquired a better system of traveling, while all have kept themselves in better condition; and thus we see men who began like Merritt, Krohme, Hart, Panchot, Fitzgerald and a dozen others, gradually bettering their performances, till the American track has fairly beaten the English in the number of "five hundred mile men" it has turned out.
One thing has been demonstrated in all these races beyond a doubt; which is, that no man can safely train himself for a great feat. He may do it during preliminary practice and at small matches where his opponents are not dangerous; but when it comes to a supreme effort, he must put himself into the hands of others, if he hope to make a good record.
The men who do the training for matches in large cities are generally retired pugilists or professional athletes of other kinds and there's not much choice between them. The special work of the old pugilistic trainer is to bring his man up to the highest point of health and strength, besides sustaining him during the match. He is generally a careful and experienced nurse, who understands the efficacy of rubbings and baths to take the pain out of tired joints; and will often perform wonders in the way of restoring a jaded man to comparative freshness.
His weakness as a special trainer for pedestrians, lies in the fact that he is not an expert in systems of walking, and so cannot give his man much valuable instruction during his training.
The weakness of a professional pedestrian, on the other hand, lies in the direction where the pugilist is strongest, that of general physical training. His best point will probably be his ability to criticise and improve the style of his pupil before the match. If such a trainer can make his man go more miles in an hour with less fatigue than he has ever done before, he will be worth a good deal of money; but as a sustainer and imparter of strength he is not always as successful. He is apt to let his man eat things that are not only not beneficial, but often positively injurious; a mistake which the pugilistic trainer never commits.
These facts render the selection of trainers a matter requiring a good deal of judgment, and indicates different men for different kinds of races.
If the object of ambition is to beat the world in a mile, five-mile or twenty-five mile walk, square heel and toe, a professional pedestrian is the man to employ as a trainer; as style and swiftness are his special points, and the efforts required in short contests are not so severe as to cause an exhausting drain on the physical powers.
When the trial is changed to a sprint race, where great speed is required and a severe temporary strain comes on heart and lungs, the pugilist would answer the purpose better, as condition is the great point in such a match, style being secondary.
For longer running contests up to twenty miles, where economy of strength is everything, style becomes a valuable adjunct; and here the professional runner is indicated as the proper trainer.
For twenty-four-hour walks and runs the professional pedestrian is also the man to employ, as such efforts are not above the capacity of men in fair condition.
Even as far as three-day contests, a moderate amount of physical condition will take a man through without breaking down under the strain, and a pugilistic trainer may be unnecessary.
When it comes, however, to the supreme efforts required to accomplish five hundred miles in six days, two trainers are almost imperatively required; one a pedestrian, to train for speed and style; the other an old pugilist, who understands every point involved in putting a man into first-class condition and nursing him under the tremendous strain involved in a match. These men must be in constant attendance on their pupil before the match, and will be obliged to lose as much sleep as the competitor during the trial itself, unless they can be relieved by others as good as themselves.
We have said this much on the subject of training, although experience shows that trainers are not made by books. We recommend every reader, ambitious to become a crack pedestrian, to put himself into the hands of an old trainer whenever he can, paying his price if he can afford it. If, however, this be impossible, and it be absolutely necessary for the aspirant to train himself, a few safe general rules may be laid down, which can be followed without danger, and the observance of which is sure to give an easy victory over untrained men, such as attend country matches.
We will take them in order, beginning with sprint-racing.
HOW TO TRAIN FOR A SPRINT RACE
If it be for a seventy-five-yard dash, find some place where you can lay out a straight track, just that length. In the country this is easy, in the city more difficult, the public parks being the only places where it is practicable. Having laid out the track, take a friend to time you, and run the course regularly three or four times a day, one or two trials each time, keeping a record of the average for a week. Do this in your ordinary clothes and shoes. You will probably find your first week's average about eleven seconds, if not more.
During this first week there is no special diet to recommend, save to eat as few vegetables, and as little sweet stuff as may be. If the bowels become free, as they are apt to do under the running exercise, no medicine need be taken, but if the system is much clogged, a succession of three doses of epsom salts or citrate of magnesia, taken every other morning, will remove waste matter and restore a healthy tone.
The second week begin to run for time, and to improve the wind. Increase the number of dashes to five or six a day, and run the course at least twice each trial. You are pretty sure now to get your record below ten seconds, if you throw off your upper clothes and run in shirt and trowsers. During this week eat lean meat, mutton or beef, with stale bread, and drink as little as possible. Remember that to keep the bowels regular, there is nothing like regular habits; and that the system should be cleared out twice a day.
On the third week try the track at top speed, once every hour, and begin to practice in running costume. You will find that your record has now come down below nine seconds. Your appetite will become furious during this week, and you will find it hard to stick to your temperate fare of bread and meat, but this is essential to success, as a sprint runner can hardly be too thin and hard for his work. If the aspirant be at all fat, he should run in heavy clothes to sweat himself down, or else try a Turkish bath, which takes off the fat quicker than anything else.
The fourth week should be that of the race, and the previous exercise should be increased by running the track once every half hour in the morning, and returning to the previous week's practice in the afternoon.
If any young man out in the country will try this method of training faithfully, beginning four weeks before the match comes off, he will be able to beat all his untrained competitors by one and perhaps two seconds; for sprint running depends on the capacity to take the greatest possible number of steps inside of twenty seconds, and so does not require the elaborate training necessary to accomplish more exhausting feats.
