by Tim Marshall
Three further points. It is dangerous for wheelchairs to be started at the back [saying this is a hostage to fortune] – sometimes thought to be a solution – because wheelchairs tend to be faster than the slower runners, and carving a way through a field of runners is dangerous to Achilles tendons. Runners overtaking wheelchairs (which is what happens when the wheelchairs start first) is, by contrast, an entirely safe situation. Secondly, such is the opposition to the inclusion of wheelchairs that the man [in a wheelchair] who took part last year was stated (to me, in writing) by one of the organisers to have committed perjury in completing his entry form. Finally, integrated events such as this offer an all-too-rare opportunity for disabled people to take part fully with able-bodied people, the kind of opportunity which IYDP in 1981 was meant to encourage. It is sad, to say the least, that the organisers of the London Marathon have set themselves against such an opportunity.
I do not know quite what you may be able to do about the matter, other than give it a public airing and maybe to ask some questions in appropriate places, but the BSAD, and I as its “marathon representative” will be grateful for whatever you feel able to do. Many disabled people, not merely those who had hopes of being selected to take part, feel extremely bitter about the policy of the organisers in this respect, the more so since although the event takes place on public roads which are closed for the event, the London Marathon is run by what is essentially a private organisation and no representations can be made via the democratic process to change the policy.
A list of the governors of the marathon is given below; only the Deputy Leader of the GLC is known to be in favour. I do not know to what extent “the organisers” are a different group of people, except that they include Chris Brasher and John Disley, both of whom are opposed.
President, AAA
Chairman, British Amateur Athletic Board
Chairman, Women’s Amateur Athletic Association
Chairman, Sports Council
Deputy Leader, GLC [Illtyd Harrington]
GLC Director of Arts and Recreation [Lord Birkett]
Chairman, London Tourist Board
Representative of Metropolitan Police
I hope to hear from you in due course.
Yours sincerely …”
I must have been feeling impatient about the apparent non-activity from The Sunday Times about wheelchair marathons: I sent this letter to them on March 5th, a Saturday, but to the MPs and the Lord Mayor not until the following Friday, March 11th. And the Sunday, March 13th, was the day of the inaugural Reading Half-Marathon.
Reading Half-Marathon
A lot of wheelchairs were there, probably around 20 or 25, including many who had taken part in what at the time they had thought was the qualifying event for London nearly three months earlier; I don’t remember if Jenny was there, but I think Julia was. The course started at the White Knights area of the university on the south side of the city, went down into and wound around the town centre, including crossing over the river to Caversham, and finished by climbing back up the hill to finish outside the Sports Centre. It being the first event of its kind in the town, there were cameras all over the place. One of them caught me being overtaken by an elderly runner – but he can’t have been that elderly – climbing up the hill to the finish, and turning around to applaud me as he did so. This photo, published the next day in the local paper, won a prize for best encapsulating the spirit of the occasion. I’ve no idea what my time was, but I do know I finished second to Mick Karaphillides, one of the London crowd, whom I was to meet on several occasions over the next few years.
So, at what seemed a suitable time after the finish, we started a meeting. Not many had stayed, and those who had were mostly the early finishers and those who had finished high up in the “qualifying race” from Docklands three months earlier. How do you organise a protest? What sort of protest to put on? No one wanted to disrupt the race itself, for although to do so would certainly attract publicity, it would almost certainly be hostile, and as far as possible we wanted people on our side, not against us. For different reasons, there seemed no point in trying to stage something after the last runner had gone. So we tried to concentrate on a “front end” protest, but one which wouldn’t disrupt the main race. In the end, the best anyone could come up with was this. We would assemble maybe ½ mile or a mile down the course from the start, and push back as a group along Charlton Way towards the Red start. If/when it looked as though we were going to be blocked from getting any nearer the start, we would turn round and start what would become a truncated race (from our point of view), hoping that we wouldn’t be interrupted further down the course, because for “them” to do so would be likely to get fouled up with the main race, absolutely the last thing the organisers would want.
There were several problems with this idea. Clearly, we wouldn’t be able to park on the main road used for the race – Charlton Way – so we’d have to use one of the residential roads at right-angles. But wouldn’t these be festooned with “No Parking” bollards? It seemed very likely. And how about crash barriers designed to keep the runners and the spectators separate? Again, very likely, but how far along Charlton Way they would have been installed was anyone’s guess. So the London lot were left with trying to find out more, though by when was an open question. To judge from later correspondence, Julia was to be the main contact point in London.
Reading was also near where Philip Lewis lived. I don’t remember meeting him at the race, either before or after, and the conversation I had with him may have been over the phone a few days later. Whatever form the protest eventually took, it seemed likely that, if it were successful in gaining lots of attention, the police might be involved, and this raised the possibility of a civil or even criminal charge. So I asked Philip if he would be my solicitor if any legal proceedings developed. He said that he wasn’t on the active register any longer, and advised strongly against any action that might get us into trouble. So I dropped the matter, hoping that something might turn up which would obviate the need for any protest.
Meanwhile, things were moving on other fronts. The “You can’t run against professionals from any sport” business had finally been laid to rest, evidenced by a letter from John Conteh, the boxer, in the “Birmingham Post” on March 9th. He was the team captain of RADAR, a national charity promoting the cause of people with disabilities, and even at this late stage, he was canvassing for runners not yet affiliated to a worthy cause to join the RADAR fundraising team. Presumably, there were other sportsmen and women still canvassing for unattached runners to join their teams.
More importantly, though, my impatience with The Sunday Times had been misplaced. On the same day as the Reading Half-Marathon, their Inside Track column opened with the following:
“No Chairpersons
Contrary to popular belief, the fastest recorded marathon is not Alberto Salazar’s 2h 8m in New York in 1981, but Rick Hansen’s 1h 48m in Boston a year later – in a wheelchair. In America, wheelchairs are an accepted part of the marathon scene. Over here, despite the fact that they have successfully participated in 20 events, they are seen by the organisers of the London Marathon as a nuisance, and wheelchair athletes are refused admittance. ‘We’re organising a foot-race, not one on wheels’ argues course organiser John Disley, ‘and all our talents are going into that. We’ve already stretched our resources to put on the biggest marathon in the world, and we don’t want to jeopardise what we’ve got.’
Disley’s objections to the best 20 wheelchair marathoners competing in conjunction [with the footrace] include the possibility of their disturbing the Changing of the Guard (if they arrive too early) or disrupting the opening to tourists of the Tower of London (if they arrive too late). He also cites safety factors: cobblestones, narrow streets, and the necessity of coping with traffic if the wheelchairs are too slow.
All these arguments are dismissed as specious by Tim Marshall, himself a wheelchair Marathoner and a coordinator for
the British Sports Association for the Disabled. ‘They used to argue that it was against international regulations for wheelchairs to participate. That wasn’t true. This year’s excuse is the Changing of the Guard.
‘None of the problems couldn’t easily be overcome. The wheelchair athletes normally start about 10 minutes before the rest, and within a few miles they are spread out over about a hundred yards, so overtaking for the runners is easy. We’ve coped with traffic and different terrains at all the other marathons we’ve entered – in fact, none of the others have the roads closed except for the start and finish. And there’s no danger of arriving too early because we’ve not reached the standards of the Americans.’
The last word could well be with the Greater London Council, who sponsor the London Marathon to the tune of £100,000, and provide the course. “You mustn’t separate the able from the disabled” says GLC deputy leader Illtyd Harrington, “and we very firmly want these people to enter. The organisers’ arguments just do not stand up.””
The race was exactly five weeks away.
Letters began to flow in from MPs. The first arrived from Alf Morris, a well-known campaigner on behalf of disabled people. “I shall be making urgent and personal enquiries to see if there is any way in which I can be of help…” Gary Waller wrote the same day, disagreeing with my basic premise; but at least he had the courtesy to reply. My own MP, Jill Knight, replied the following day saying she didn’t really know what she could do, practically, but she would certainly write to the Minister for Sport. And so on. There were eventually replies from Jack Ashley, John Watson, Matthew Paris, Lewis Carter-Jones and Sir Anthony Jolliffe (Lord Mayor of London). A few more trickled in after the race. Much later, I was told that some of the MPs had decided to find out for themselves what the “official” view was, and had trotted across Westminster Bridge to County Hall where the headquarters were. The same person also told me that Brasher and Disley were getting increasingly irritated by having to respond to a succession of MPs pursuing an enquiry which they considered had been put to bed long ago.
Things were on the move in London. Julia wrote to me on March 21st:
“Just a hasty note. Saw your piece in the [Sunday] Times – well done. I’m still waiting for map and start details but will send them on as soon as I get them. I understand Geoff Baxter [I had no idea who he was] has arranged a half-marathon – believe it to be next week in Romford. So far only 2 places have shown interest in displaying banners and 2 individuals. Rumour hath it the cameras will be on feeding stations on I O Dogs. My contact at that station does not wish to be involved but is chatting up publican and fire station across the road. I’ll keep you posted.”
It sounded interesting, even if specific details were lacking. But finding out more about the start seemed to be exactly what we were looking for.
Does He Take Sugar?
The BBC had a radio programme “of interest to disabled listeners and their families” which was broadcast on Tuesday evenings. The title came from a well-known cartoon depicting a couple in a café, he in a wheelchair. A waitress stands beside the table and asks the woman “Does he take sugar?” – the implication being that he is not capable of answering the question himself; or that the waitress is uncomfortable about talking directly to a disabled person; or both of these; or any other angle reflecting stereotypical relationships between disabled and able-bodied people.
Some time in the second half of March – after the article had appeared in “The Sunday Times” – I was rung at home and asked if I could go along to the Pebble Mill studios to take part in a discussion on the “Sugar” programme about wheelchairs and marathons, and in particular about the controversy that had recently arisen regarding the London Marathon. I asked if it was going to be live. “Yes,” they said. I gulped, and said I would turn up. The programme must have been on either 15th or 22nd March.
At the start of the live interview, they played me a recording of Chris Brasher’s criticisms of what I’d been up to, and asked for my response. (Obviously, giving me no advance warning of the questions was the fairest and most objective way of doing things). I went over how it had all started; how far we had got in this country; playing up those races which had welcomed wheelchairs; lauding to the skies the Great North Run (20,000 runners and 61 wheelchairs – no problems); and addressing head-on those problems about London Brasher had raised in his interview. We finished, I think, about five to nine, so there was a bit more of the programme still to go. The studio seemed very happy with proceedings, and there was no re-cap or review to be done, so I went straight home. There, to be greeted by a message asking me to ring Mitch – Ivor Mitchell, the retired special school headmaster who was now a BSAD vice-president.
“You did very well, Tim,” he said. “You heard it then?”
“Of course. Didn’t they tell you?”
“What? Who?”
“They got on to me through BSAD, and started grilling me about you.”
“What?”
“Yes, they wanted to know if you were a madman, a trouble-maker or someone with a genuine case to make over London. I told them the latter, of course. No, I think you put the case very well. Whether it’ll make any difference is another matter altogether, of course, but we can always hope.”
On March 22nd The New Statesman, a left-wing weekly journal, published an article about the financial arrangements behind the London Marathon. To say the least it was uncomplimentary, containing as it did suggestions of dodgy dealings redounding to the financial benefit of Brasher and Disley. The article was widely reported, but ended up as the subject of a libel suit which, many months down the line, The New Statesman comprehensively lost. Along with all the wheelchair stuff that was beginning to boil up, this article must have been particularly unwelcome as yet something else Brasher and Disley had to deal with.
On Thursday March 24th Jenny sent a long letter to all the people who had been in the Isle of Dogs Half-Marathon. She began thus: “I am writing to explain some of the events which have led up to the unsuccessful attempt to get wheelchair entrants accepted in the London Marathon.” She reviewed the chronology of what had gone on, though only as far back as mid-1982, when BSAD first became involved officially. As we have seen, she approached Brasher in person after the GLC sports conference on December 16th, and wrote to him too. Part of his reply, included in Jenny’s letter, reads:
“… we are prepared to talk to you about the future – but not until May – but I do urge you to impress upon all your members that they will be putting the event in jeopardy for the future if they try to take part unofficially this year.” Another offer of jam tomorrow, with a barely veiled threat if anyone tried to barge in this year.
Wolverhampton Marathon
This was held on Sunday 27th March. Since it was local to me, it was easy to trot along on the Saturday to register, using any opportunity to bring up the London issue again. The local paper, the “Express & Star”, duly had a picture of me registering, though in the report of my registration there was no mention of London at all; probably, the chance never arose. Unlike afterwards. The course profile was roughly this: a fast start, gradually downhill for 2 miles or so, with the main concern being to avoid hitting manhole covers and patches of repaired road, which, at high speed, might have pitched me out of the chair. The 15 minute headstart was soon swallowed up after the descent finished, because the course turned back on itself with a short, steep climb up Windmill Hill, where the runners caught me up.
The rest of the race became a bit of a blur, though manoeuvring around the roadworks which were the consequence of building a new urban tram system between Wolverhampton and Birmingham was an unusual hazard not met anywhere else. The local paper, though, did the cause proud when reporting on the race. It noted I’d managed a personal best in under 3½ hours, and then: “… he had harsh words for organisers of the London Marathon who have put a total ban on all wheelchair entries in the capital event in three weeks time. And he had pledg
ed to join 30 other wheelchair competitors at the London event to mount a demonstration against the organisers’ decision. … Wolverhampton has shown that if a marathon is organised properly there can be room for such entries.” And so on.
Breakthrough
Two days later, Tuesday 29th, the following appeared in “The Guardian”:
“A certain amount of friction is being engendered in the world of marathon runners over attempts by disabled people to enter and wheel their way around the coming London Marathon.
In the past week Mr Chris Brasher, organiser of the April 7th event [a mistype – it was on April 17th] has been provoked to fire off a couple of heated letters on the subject. Here is a taster from his letter to the wheelchair-bound Mr Philip Lewis, chairman of the British Sports Association for the Disabled: ‘We in this office are getting thoroughly fed up with Mr Tim Marshall (the BSAD negotiator on marathons) who will not accept a straight No, which is given for very good reasons. Instead he is trying to circumvent us by going to the GLC, the newspapers, members of parliament, Uncle Tom Cobley and all. Once upon a time I had a lot of sympathy for the cause of sport for the disabled … but my goodwill is rapidly evaporating.’
Another strong letter went to Mr Alyn Claremont Davies, a 26-year-old former merchant seaman suffering from multiple sclerosis who had entered and proved his fitness with a 22-mile sponsored trip round Deptford. Mr Brasher argues that it would be dangerous for a marathon with more than 10,000 entrants to allow wheelchairs, but he is prepared to consider some arrangement involving later starting times another year. Full discussions with the GLC are taking place today.”