The First Four Minutes by Sir Roger Bannister

Author:Sir Roger Bannister [Bannister, Sir Roger]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Biography & Autobiography, Lang:en
Publisher: The History Press
Published: 2012-11-07T19:24:49+00:00

10

Preparation for Olympic Games

Helsinki 1952

‘Now! now,’ cried the Queen, ‘Faster, faster!’

Through the Looking Glass

In the winter of 1951/52 I started on my Olympic plan. Because of the tremendous nervous strain I suffered during races, I believed that excessive competition was essentially harmful to someone of my temperament. So I did not run in any cross-country races during the winter. I decided not to start running on the track until February, and did most of my training near my home round the grass cricket field of Harrow School.

This was nearly a mile round, enlivened by its slope and by the variety of elms and poplars that surrounded it. I did not have time to train until evening, when it was dark. Often I was tired from standing in hospital wards, operating theatres or tube trains. It needed an enormous effort to make myself change into my running kit, but once I had taken the plunge the run always refreshed and invigorated me. I never ran for longer than half an hour, never timed myself with a stopwatch.

Running in the dark has always had a strange fascination for me. Being unable to see the expanse of ground very far ahead I am not depressed by the distance yet to be covered, and have a sense of going at great speed. The velvety ensheathing blackness makes me feel at one with the world, as if the earth were moving with me. This gives great power to my running.

There was some risk, because the field had no lights. One evening I was leaping across a stream in one corner of the field instead of crossing over a tiny bridge. I slipped and fell, and the sharp concrete edge cut deeply into my shin bone and the flesh. In the dark I could not see how deep the cut was, and I tried to continue running. The blood was flowing freely, so I came home and went to the hospital. They cut away the dirt and stitched the wound, but it was a month before I could run again.

At Christmas the American ranking for the Olympics appeared in the press. I was given fourth place! Willi Slijkhuis of Holland, the reigning European champion, was selected as the winner, Landqvist of Sweden as second, with the equivalent of a 4 minute 3 second mile to his credit, and Otenhajmer of Jugoslavia in third.

There was one occasion when I ran myself to exhaustion. I had spent the afternoon watching Oxford’s victory over Cambridge in the boat race. I felt frustrated that I had not been able to take part in their magnificent struggle. I remembered from my schooldays the intense pleasure of utter exhaustion from rowing in company and in time with the rest of the crew.

I went out running as soon as I reached home. The snow was falling and already lay about four inches deep. No one had crossed it, and every step I took left its impression behind on the virgin whiteness. I ran and ran until I was exhausted.

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