by Stan Eldon
I then had a month off racing and just trained modestly until the Welsh Games in Cardiff in the middle of September. On a wet and windy day, with a very soggy track, I had a very close race with Lazlo Tabori (exiled Hungarian), Dave Power (Australia) and Nyandeka (Kenya). At the bell, the four of us were running abreast, until Tabori took off with me chasing him, and it was a tremendous race up the home straight (a quote from the papers), and Tabori just got up to win by two yards with me taking second place, both with the same time of 13:49, and the Kenyan taking third place.
My racing programme started to warm up again, and four days after Cardiff I was second again in the Air Ministry Sports two miles in 8:55.8, followed three days later with a win over three miles at Welwyn Garden City in 13:43.8. The winning habit did not last, and four days later I could only finish fourth in the three miles, in a match between London and the Pan American Cities.
Jack Crump kept his word, and in October I was off to the West African Games in Lagos, Nigeria. This was an interesting and historical trip. The event was to be part of the celebration of Nigerian Independence, and the team was an international one, made up of mainly athletes who had attended, and in many cases won medals in the Olympics in Rome. The team included Americans, Commonwealth athletes and two or three of us from the UK.
Our first problem on the trip occurred in the air while we were flying across the Sahara to Lagos. Most of those on board the BOAC plane were asleep when we were awoken by the air stewards and told there was a problem with the plane; apparently the hydraulics had gone and there were no brakes or controls. As we flew south I remember seeing the camel trains going across the desert; it was a different world. We landed safely at Karno, an airport in the north of Nigeria, and had to stay there until the plane was fixed. By coincidence, forty years later, I was talking to my colleague in the Sports Aid office about the incident, and she knew all about it. She had been working at Heathrow at the time, and was responsible for despatching the aircraft engineers to Karno - a small world!
We did eventually fly on to Lagos, and were taken from the airport to the Games ‘Village’. This was also a bit of a shock, especially for the team management and the girls on the trip. Our housing was concrete built units with no windows or doors. There were the most basic of facilities and we all had our mosquito net. The Nigerians had no intention of separating the sexes, but the women’s team management had other ideas. They quickly decided that their girls could not stay in the same buildings as the rest of us, and before we knew it they had whisked the girls away to stay in a very nice area of large houses some way away from the rest of us. In the same area was a very nice hotel with a swimming pool, and every day we met up at this hotel to have a swim and to eat. I spent many happy hours in the pool with girls like Betty Cuthbert from Australia, the Olympic gold medallist sprinter, who sadly was at the opening ceremony at Sydney 2000 in a wheelchair. It was just as well that we had this special arrangement for eating, as the only other eating facility was back at the village where we shared the eating facilities with the local villagers.
The first morning we all made our way to this communal facility. It was a long building, open to the sky in the centre, and flowing through it was a trough or trench, and obviously food was thrown in there. It was open to the skies, so that when it rained it would be washed through. There was a long queue of the locals waiting to be served with breakfast. There was a huge black pot, similar to the cartoon type that missionaries were cooked in, and porridge was being cooked in large quantities. Fortunately there were cereals, which I think may have gone out with us, and we all opted for the ‘safe’ food.
Once we got used to our living environment, and the lizards running in and out of our ‘rooms’, it became tolerable. The organisers had a fleet of Mercedes cars and VW minibuses to take us and other VIPs about. They were driven by boys from the bush, who had literally been given a few minutes’ instruction and then given their vehicle to drive. We had some hair-raising journeys, but in a few days they did grasp the rudiments of driving on the mud-made and very bumpy roads.
The whole team was taken to the stadium for the opening ceremony. There was a decent track, but the stands were mostly temporary, made from scaffolding. We lined up and marched into the stadium where we were announced as the team from the Commonwealth. This did not go down too well with the large number of American athletes, although most of them saw the funny side. The prime minister of the new emerging country was there to welcome us, but sadly within six months he was murdered when the inter-regional fighting started.
The fun really started when the athletics commenced. They did not have the right implements. They had a sledgehammer for hammer throwing, and there was no water jump for the steeplechase, which was to be one of my two events in the match. The meeting was very basic, but there was some good competition. The African nations were just emerging in sport and their inexperience was very evident. It seems a lifetime away from today when they dominate so much of athletics and other sports.
On the Friday, the first day, I ran in the 1,500 metres and came fourth in 3:54. A couple of the Africans had got in front of me as well as one of our team.
The next day it was the 5,000 metres and it was very hot. I ran with Max Truex, the US 10,000 metre champion and record holder for most of the race until he left me. I came second in 14:32.4, a very slow time, but we got the maximum points for the team.
I remember the actual handover ceremony that took place at midnight on 5th October 1960. Princess Alexandra was there to represent the Queen and I remember the Union flag being lowered and the Nigerian flag being raised to symbolise the changeover.
We were invited on board the warship that the Princess was staying on, and we were given passes and told to make our own way to the dockside where we would be taken on board. For some reason I made my way on my own and I will not forget the crowd, or what happened, when I arrived. There was a massive crowd between me and where I was going, so I showed my pass to a police superintendent and he immediately took action to get me through the crowd. He just walked through waving his swagger stick and hitting anyone who got in our way. There were barriers to keep the crowd contained and some people were trying to climb over them; down came his stick on their hands. I tried to stop him but it seemed that this was the expected police method of keeping control in Nigeria. I could not help thinking that there were times back home when I could have used such tactics, but rest assured this was not a serious thought.
My writing continued, and while I was in Nigeria the Wolfenden Report on Sport was published, and I sent my comments on the report to the paper.
A week after my return to England, I was selected to run against the East Germans in Berlin. It was the end of a long and rather disappointing season, but I decided I would take the trip because it was a little different. This was an interesting trip as it meant flying into Berlin, which was in the Eastern Sector of the city, and it was before the ‘Wall’ was built between East and West. We were to stay in the East and to compete there, but we did explore, and although there were armed guards on the border in the city, we ignored them and walked over into West Berlin. I remember the contrast was tremendous, with the new buildings and neon signs in the West, and the dereliction with bombed buildings still standing in the East. There was a great contrast in the people as well, with the Western Berliners smartly dressed and in bright clothes, and the Eastern people were drab and poorly dressed.
I ran the 5,000 metres, but only came third in 14:20; a very disappointing end to a disastrous season that could have been my greatest.
By now it was the middle of October, and into the period where I normally cut down on training and enjoyed the occasional race. For a few weeks my training did drop right down, and one week only had a total of sixteen miles in my training diary.
The last Saturday in October put me back into winning mood with a cross-country win over six miles in
an inter-club race. Another win followed in an inter-police force race, and then it was off to the Le Soir race in Brussels.
This was one of the attractive races of the winter season, because there were good prizes and the runners were always well looked after. It was also an interesting and different event, because there was the Criterium des Arcs for the elite runners, but there was also several other races including a club race where there were thousands of runners. This was unique in those days, as there were no mass running events that we have come to see in the 1980s and beyond. I only finished fourteenth in Brussels, with a time of 32:46, for a distance of just over 9,000 metres or about 5.5 miles.
Back home I did manage to win four more races before Christmas, and my training crept back up to nearly seventy miles a week.
The New Year started off with my annual visit to South Wales and the Nos Galan races at Mountain Ash. I ran in the one mile again in the afternoon, which was won by Derek Ibbotson in 4:16.8, and then I lined up for the 3 mile 1,600 yard midnight race around the terraces of the town. As usual the race was started by the Mystery Runner, who was the winner of the afternoon one mile, Ibbotson. My main rival on this occasion turned out to be Martin Hyman, and as we came down onto the main street he was just ahead, and he maintained his lead through to where we turned right onto the bridge that would take us to the finish in front of the Town Hall. As we turned onto the bridge the crowd was so dense we had difficulty in making our way to the finish. I suppose I was less of a gentleman than Martin, and I fought my way through the crowd and arrived at the finish first. In one respect I suppose I was a gentleman as I refused to accept the win, and insisted that the winner’s sash went to Martin Hyman because without the crowd he would genuinely have won by twenty metres or so. My time was 18:37, which was twelve seconds faster than in the previous year and it was in fact the fastest time I was ever going to achieve at Nos Galan over the years. Because of the crowds, the rest of the runners were allowed to finish on the other side of the bridge to avoid any further disputes.
Back in Berkshire I did manage to win the Berkshire title yet again.
Around this time I had started to teach Marion to drive, and on Friday, 13th January 1961, while we were having a short drive very close to our home, she took a corner too wide at the same time as a biscuit lorry was also over the white line in the middle of the road. We collided and the car was thrown some way up the road, and the lorry ended up in the ditch. The car had spun around and I was thrown out onto the road, landing on my head. We had our two young children in the car; baby Jonathan was in his carrycot on the back seat and narrowly missed being hit by the fire extinguisher that fell off the back shelf, and Caroline, who had been sitting on my lap, came out of the car with me. Fortunately I hit the ground and she didn’t. There were no seat belts in those days. Marion was taken to hospital but did not have any serious injuries, which was surprising when we later saw the damage to the car which was a write-off.
I had just got my training back to a reasonable level and had run fifteen miles the day before the crash, and as a result of my bang on the head I then lost four days, but I then got back to training the following week. I trained quite hard and that is why I probably had such a lousy run on the Saturday in the Inter-Counties race, where it took me 47:07 to run the eight miles and finish in 106th position. I took time off on the Sunday and started training again on the Monday, and clocked up a total of 100 miles, including a six mile cross-country race on the Saturday in the Police against various Army units match. I finished fifth, but according to my notes on the day, I and others got lost and ran off the course. The week following I clocked up 101 miles in twelve training sessions, followed by seventy-seven the next week, when I won an inter-club race. The next week it was seventy-one miles, and this included two races. The first one on the Wednesday I won. It was an inter police force match, but on the Saturday it was the Southern Counties where I had always performed well. This time was not one of them, and I finished ninth in 45:32 for the nine miles. Then I was back to 100 miles of training and a win in a small inter-club match. On the evening of Wednesday 1st March I did one of my favourite runs; I ran to Windsor from Reading via Twyford, a distance of nineteen miles, which I did in one hour forty-six minutes.
I had some shorter steady runs on the next two days, before lining up in the Thames Valley Harriers Relay, again at Cranford. The course had been changed and was now slightly shorter than the one where I held the record, but I still came out on top with the fastest time of the day, 20:18 for the 4.5 miles.
A steady week of training followed, and at the end of that week I ran what, looking back now, was a race that signalled the coming to an end of my international running. It was the English Championships, and I came thirteenth in only 51:05 for the nine miles. This was outside the automatic place for the international where they selected the first nine, and it did not even get me a reserve spot. It was a great disappointment after my first, fifth, and tenth positions in the international race of the previous three years.
Shortly after this I did win the Police Cross-Country Championship for the last time, and a few days later ran in a new event for me, the Swindon Road Relay. I loved the road and once again I clocked the fastest time for the 4.5 mile leg.
Over the next two weeks I was to win or set the fastest times in four races. The first was in Northampton, a six mile cross-country race, and then the Watford Road Relay, 6 × 3 miles where my time of 13:41 was the fastest. Then on Easter Monday it was another of my special events, the Maidenhead ‘10’, and I won again in 51:34, just one second slower than my time in winning the previous year. At the end of that week it was the Uxbridge Road Relay, and I was fastest again with 26:47.
By now I was just getting back into track training and had some good sessions, and so I thought I would have a go at the AAA Ten Mile Championship to be held at Motspur Park. One of my old Army friends and rival, Basil Heatley, was entered and I knew that he wanted a world record. We ran together and we took the lead in turns and reached the three mile mark in 14:16, which was well on schedule, but then on the sixteenth lap disaster struck as I was running down the back straight. All of a sudden my left leg seized up with cramp and I struggled for the rest of the lap before dropping out. I remember the AAA physiotherapist telling me that my problem was caused by running on too many different surfaces in a short time; cross-country, road, and then rapidly onto the track.
I wanted to get over the disappointment of dropping out of that ten miles, so a week later I lined up for the Finchley twenty mile race. I knew my basic fitness was good in spite of my trouble at the AAA 10, and I set off in the ‘20’ in my usual way, leading from the start and clocking off the five mile laps in twenty-five minutes a lap, but after three laps and around fifteen miles I paid the price for my enthusiasm and I slowed rapidly, and my last lap of five miles took around thirty-eight minutes. I suffered and my final time was only 1:53. All I wanted to do after the race for about twenty-four hours was eat and drink. I packed in sandwiches, fruit juice and anything I could get my hands on. I found out what it was like to be totally dehydrated.
Just four days after that twenty miles, I was back on the track for the annual AAA v Oxford University match at Iffley Road. This time I did not win and had a terrible run, finishing sixth in only 9:23. I was still being asked to run all over the place, and only another four days later I was in Hanover in Germany, running an invitation 3,000 metres, where I was sixth again in 8:30.2.
I was really on the slide now, and things could not get much worse, or could they? All I won over the next couple of weeks were a few club races in unspectacular times, and I did manage second place in a three mile at Portsmouth where I recorded 14:12. I then ran the three miles again in the Inter Counties at the White City. Absolute disaster, seventeenth in 14:29. Form was very much up and down from then on. I won the Berkshire titles at one and three miles again, in 4:16.4 for the mile, and 14:11.9
for the 3 miles. I won a few club races and managed to make the first three in several invitation races, including one at Farnham where I managed 8:51.8 for two miles.
At the end of June I ran for my second claim club Reading AC, in their match against a Swedish Club, Idrottsklubben YMER. I won the mile in 4:20, and the two miles in 9:9.2, and even managed to get fourth place in the 1,500 metres steeplechase in 4:40. The erratic form continued, and at the end of that week all I could manage was a fifth place in a mile race at Nottingham in 4:16. The following week I had two contrasting results, with second place in the Paddington 1.5 miles, in a time that was close to my best for the race, 6:27.5, and then back to a modest run at Oxford, where I ran two miles in over nine minutes. This was followed by a win for the Berkshire AAA v Army v University Athletic Union in the mile. My time was 4:11.6, which was quite respectable for me.
I sharpened up in the rest of the week with some short fast running, and then ran the AAA’s six mile at the White City on the Friday night. I had to be content with third place and 28:13.4, but this was only eight seconds outside my British record, so it was not a bad run and showed that I was not quite finished. I then won the Police Championships at one and three miles for the last time, with modest times of 4:20 and 14.02. An invitation 1,500 metres in 3:58.3 followed, and in the Welsh Games I had another poor performance, fifth place in the three miles in 13:46.4.
I did start to think about my future, both in terms of running and career. I was approached by the Chairman of Lex Motors, Rosser Chinn, and offered a job, but it was a bit vague what my job would be.
During August of 1961, training and races fell off. This was the year that my time in the police was going to come to an end, but before I quit I saw an advert for a selling job with Caxtons, who published encyclopedias and sports books. I got the job and had the training; then it was out to sell sporting encyclopedias.