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Sports Personalities |
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March 23, 1939 - |
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| Banister at Empire
Stadium |
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The Four
Minute Mile - Could a man break that barrier. On May 6th,
1954, Roger Banister and his fellow
racers made the attempt. (Roger Banister) - "There
was complete silence on the ground ... a false start ... I
felt angry that precious moments during the lull in the wind
might be slipping by. The gun fired a second time ...
Brasher went into the lead and I slipped in effortlessly
behind him, feeling tremendously full of running. My legs
seemed to meet no resistance at all, as if propelled by some
unknown force. We seemed to be going so slowly! Impatiently
I shouted 'Faster!' But Brasher kept his head and did not
change the pace. I went on worrying until I heard the first
lap time, 57.5 sec. In the excitement my knowledge of pace
had deserted me. Brasher could have run the first quarter in
55 seconds without my realising it, because I felt so full
of running, but I should have had to pay for it later.
Instead, he made success possible. At one and a half laps I
was still worrying about the pace. A voice shouting 'relax'
penetrated to me above the noise of the crowd. I learnt
afterwards it was Stampf's. Unconsciously I obeyed. If the
speed was wrong it was too late to do anything about it, so
why worry? I was relaxing so much that my mind seemed almost
detached from my body. There was no strain. I barely noticed
the half-mile, passed in 1 min. 58 sec., nor when, round the
next bend, Chataway went into the lead. At three quarters of
a mile the effort was still barely perceptible; the time was
3 min 0.7 sec., and by now the crowd was roaring. Somehow I
had to run that last lap in 59 seconds. Chataway led round
the next bend and then I pounced past him at the beginning
of the back straight, three hundred yards from the finish.
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The 3 pushing each
other |
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I had a
moment of mixed joy and anguish, when my mind took over. It
raced well ahead of my body and drew my body compellingly
forward. I felt that the moment of a lifetime had come.
There was no pain, only a great unity of movement and aim.
The world seemed to stand still, or did not exist. The only
reality was the next two hundred yards of track under my
feet. The tape meant finality - extinction perhaps. |
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I felt
at that moment that it was my chance to do one thing
supremely well. I drove on, impelled by a combination of
fear and pride. The air I breathed filled me with the spirit
of the track where I had run my first race. The noise in my
ears was that of the faithful Oxford crowd. Their hope and
encouragement gave me greater strength. I had now turned the
last bend and there were only fifty yards more. |
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The Start of the
Oxford Race |
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My body
had long since exhausted all its energy, but it went on
running just the same. The physical overdraft came only from
greater willpower. This was the crucial moment when my legs
were strong enough to carry me over the last few yards as
they could never have done in previous years. With five
yards to go the tape seemed almost to recede. Would I ever
reach it? Those last few seconds seemed never-ending. The
faint line of the finishing tape stood ahead as a haven of
peace, after the struggle. The arms of the world were
waiting to receive me if only I reached the tape without
slackening my speed. If I faltered, there would be no arms
to hold me and the world would be a cold, forbidding place,
because I had been so close. I leapt at the tape like a man
taking his last spring to save himself from the chasm that
threatens to engulf him. My effort was over and I collapsed
almost unconscious, with an arm on either side of me. |
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It
was only then that real pain overtook me. I felt like an
exploded flashlight with no will to live; I just went on
existing in the most passive physical state without being
quite unconscious. Blood surged from my muscles and seemed
to fell me. It was as if all my limbs were caught in an
ever-tightening vice. I knew that I had done it before I
even heard the time. I was too close to have failed, unless
my legs had played strange tricks at the finish by slowing
me down and not telling my tiring brain that they had done
so. |
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They had done it |
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The
stop-watches held the answer. The announcement came -
'Result of one mile .. time, 3 minutes.... ' - the
rest was lost in the roar of excitement. I grabbed Brasher
and Chataway, and together we scampered round the track in a
burst of spontaneous joy. We had done it - the three of us!"
The actual time was 3 minutes 59.4 seconds |
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History Travel |
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Era Books |
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History-store |
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