It is unsurprising that many experiences throughout my personal life have mirrored changing social trends. This is well exemplified in the field of physical fitness by the marathon, which has seen enormous development in the last seventy years.
I grew up in a world which viewed the marathon as a crazy idea hatched by a few madmen. Black and white images of Dorando Pietri collapsing at the end of the Olympic marathon in 1908 and Jim Peters legless in the heat at the Empire Games in Vancouver in 1954 dominated people’s minds, to the extent that the event was even considered to be physically damaging. I well recall Anne’s reaction when I first told her that I was going to run a marathon: she looked at me in horror and said: “Oh, you’ll die!”
I didn’t, because a running boom that resonated around the world in the seventies taught us all how to train for and run a marathon. The international popularity of running is largely attributed to one of the world’s outstanding athletic coaches, the Kiwi Arthur Lydiard. He learnt about long distance running by running marathons himself (he represented New Zealand at the 1950 British Empire games in Auckland in 1950), passing on his knowledge to Snell, Halberg and Magee, who all won Olympic medals in Rome in 1960. Lydiard also promoted exercise for cardiovascular health nationally in the seventies: he turned Kiwis into a nation of joggers. In 1973 the Round the Bays was first run in Auckland and quickly became one of the largest fun runs in the world, with up to 40,000 entrants annually. It is still going and just as popular.
This outburst of interest popularised the marathon as a goal that could be achieved by anybody who set their mind to it. And plenty did, to the extent that the sport became big business: the technical development of running gear, especially shoes, produced multi-million dollar companies such as adidas, New Balance, Nike; running books and magazines filled shelves; the growth of the sport paralleled the development of live telecasting of sports events; and training guides that would enable you to finish a marathon after twelve weeks training were commonplace.
The marathon was in fact developing into not just an international sporting movement but also a social occasion that people would travel to take part in. All the major cities around the world hosted a marathon, the flatter the better. In 1970 the field for the New York marathon numbered just 55 runners, and four years later 244 athletes showed up on the start line in Berlin. By the middle of the eighties fields of 40,000 runners were entering the major city marathons in the USA and Europe, even causing numbers to be restricted at some events. Cities closed off their entire centre for a weekend, the races dominated the news and were telecast live around the world, the boost to local economies was enormous, and courses were designed as tourist routes taking in a city’s historical and cultural attractions: Heartbreak Hill, the Verrezzano Narrows Bridge to Central Park, the Tower Bridge to Pall Mall, the Brandenburg Gate, Notre-Dame and the Eiffel Tower…
I started jogging in the seventies as a means of building fitness for other sports. When I arrived in Germany in 1985, I put away my drop shot and cover drive – badminton and cricket are not Germanic sports – and took up endurance running with village neighbour, Manfred Beising. We did some enjoyable Volksläufe (fun runs) together out to 30 kilometres in our local area during that year. They were popular, well organised, social events, with good food and a beer afterwards. When I arrived back in New Zealand in 1986, I already had a marathon in mind for the following year.
I had also encountered the vox pop stuff, mainly from America, about the marathon transforming people’s lives. Participants’ questionnaire responses gave insight into their motivations: “I felt like I was someone”, “I wanted to run in famous footsteps, be part of marathon history”, even, for heaven’s sake, “attain immortality”. Well, I didn’t need a new life and held out no hope for an eternal one, but I was motivated to set myself a challenge and achieve something worthwhile, to experience the adventure of the marathon…
New Zealand’s premier marathon at that time was held in Rotorua – a clockwise loop of the lake with a couple of testing hills at the mid-point – well organised by the local athletic club and sponsored by building company, Fletcher. Alison and I set out in the first weekend in May 1987 for the sulphur city, taking running shorts and togs for a hot pool. I had already done some half-marathons which suggested I could run the full distance in about three and a half hours. I didn’t take into account an autumn day with a strong cool southerly wind, but managed to cross the finishing line, still running, in 3h 31m.05s. I placed 817th of 2,428 finishers. Despite the 1987 Fletcher going into the records as “the windy one”, I felt pretty good, apart from not being able to climb stairs for three days afterwards. Finishing a marathon is an achievement in itself and therefore a powerful source of satisfaction. Stiffness soon wears off and is forgotten, but the thought that I could have gone faster lingered.
In 1989 Alison and I, with one year old Robert, shifted to Wellington. I had been training hard for that year’s Fletcher at the end of April, so I joined a Victoria University harrier group which included English professor and international marathon commentator Roger Robinson and his wife Kathryn Switzer. Roger led our often brutal lunchtime runs up and down the many hills of the capital which I was not accustomed to. It took no time before I had torn a groin tendon, an injury which takes time to repair. The enforced rest proved a benefit: I recovered, rounded off my training with a solid six week block, and arrived in Rotorua feeling strong. Confident now that I could survive a marathon, Anne and Don joined us to watch the start and then take over child-minding duties.
The 1989 edition celebrated the 25th anniversary of the Rotorua marathon which just 16 competitors had first raced in 1965. The anniversary attracted runners from all over the country as well as overseas: the 5,966 starters made this by far the largest official sporting event ever held up to that point in New Zealand (bettered by the 11,000 cyclists who took part in the 30th Round Taupo cycle challenge in 2006). And a staggering 98.2% of them completed the race.
Just as 1987 had been the windy one, 1989 was a wet one. The 29 April was not cold, it was windless, and a light rain fell throughout the race. This made for near ideal conditions, the rain keeping runners cool. I was 36 years old on race day, I felt in peak physical condition, and I loved the entire experience of racing in a large field. I finished 1,103rd in a time of 3h 18m 35s. I was not to know at the time that this would be my fastest marathon.
I was, however, still to learn that genes play as large a part in marathoning as physical training. An ideal marathon runner is short and light with a low centre of gravity, thus creating a high power to weight ratio. I didn’t fit this mould – at 1m 92 and 80 kg too tall and too heavy – and the cost was injury. I had already had a number of minor injuries, but none comparable to plantar fasciitis. The muscle running under my left foot tore away from the bone as a result of the constant pounding of foot on pavement, forcing me to stop running. The recovery took nearly a year and I would from then on wear an orthotic sole in my running shoes. In fact, it took three years before I felt confident to venture on to another marathon course.
Auckland had hosted marathons described as the Auckland Championship, perhaps as early as 1936, but certainly regularly since 1961 on a variety of courses round the city. Those races had never become the major event that the country’s largest city merited, because a major event needs an icon. Auckland’s icon – the harbour bridge – was off limits to foot and cycle traffic for 33 years, apart from the Maori hikoi in 1975. The land transport authority engineers believed that the rhythmic pounding of runners’ feet on the bridge would create vibrations that would put the entire structure at risk. The authority did finally relent in 1992 and the Auckland International Marathon was born.
The attraction of the harbour bridge proved irresistible: I laced up my running shoes and got training again for the “inaugural” Auckland marathon. The last Sunday of October produced a beautifully calm spring morning. We were quickly on to the bridge: I found that the 90 metre high climb to the top of the central span is much steeper than it appears in a car, but that the view from the top over the harbour and city is so much more spectacular in the open air. The bridge did not vibrate, but we were all aware that it was swaying. The race continued around the now conventional waterfront route, very picturesque in fine weather, back to the city centre. I finished in 3h 34m 33s, placing 946th out of 2,542 participants on a beautiful course that compares favourably with most others round the world. Auckland had its big city marathon at last.
But I still wasn’t done with injury. The wear and tear of endurance running had had an impact on both my knees, grinding away the cartilage until bone was rubbing on bone. It didn’t help that I am just a little bow-legged. A small operation on the right knee in 1993 tidied up the knee joint, but it took five years before I contemplated another marathon.
I ended the millennium running three Auckland marathons in 1997, 1998 and 1999. The event was becoming a family affair: Robert and Michael would ride their bikes alongside me from the 32 kilometre mark in St Heliers back to the centre of the city, carrying my water bottles and providing loud encouragement to the amusement of those around me. As I write this account, Michael has just finished his fourth Auckland marathon (2015, 2017, 2019, and 2022, the 30th anniversary event); he has also proved to himself that he can finish inside three and a half hours. Helen also experienced those heart-breaking final ten kilometres back to Victoria Park in 2016, when one’s only remaining resource is the mental determination to cross the line. I have always enjoyed this particular course as well as the experience itself. Finishing in under three and a half hours had become my personal benchmark and achieving it was always deeply satisfying.
I have just one regret that I never ran a major international marathon overseas: Boston, New York, London, Berlin, Paris perhaps…
But as we entered a new century and I turned 48, the inner voice was telling me that it was time to find a new sporting activity, one that would be a little kinder on the body. Now, what about riding a bike?
| Year | Marathon | Time | Placing/Finishers |
| 1987 | Rotorua | 3h 31m 05s | 817th/2,428 |
| 1989 | Rotorua | 3h 18m 35s | 1,103rd/5,589 |
| 1992 | Auckland | 3h 34m 33s | 946th/2,542 |
| 1997 | Auckland | 3h 40m 00s | 196th/448 |
| 1998 | Auckland | 3h 29m 58s | 145th/502 |
| 1999 | Auckland | 3h 28m 41s | 152nd/513 |
