The 100-miler: Part 8 (1950-1960) Wally Hayward and Ron Hopcroft

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By Davy Crockett

100-mile attempts mostly ceased across the world during the 1940s due to World War II. By 1946 some isolated 100-mile attempts reemerged, including a walking event in England where seven athletes accomplished the distance in less than 24-hours. Rex Whitlock of Great Britain walked the 100-mile Bath Road course in an amazing 17:44:40 in 1952.

Ultrarunning, at other distances, also came to life again in South Africa when the Comrades Marathon (55 miles) was held again in 1946 and the Pieter Korkie 50 km was established in Germiston. In England, the London to Brighton running race (52 miles) was established in 1951, using the famed road used by walking and biking events for decades earlier. Ultrarunning was reawakening.

During the prewar decades, hundreds of successful 100-mile attempts and events were held. Would the 100-miler truly come back in the modern era of ultrarunning?

World War II formally concluded, but conflicts continued across the world. During the aftermath of the war, with evolving superpowers, the changing world map, and the resulting Cold War, it made it a difficult time for ultrarunning to emerge widely. But the running sport has always been resilient.

Korean War 100-mile Marches

During the Korean War, 100-mile death marches took place. In July 1950, Burdett Eggen, age 18 from North Hollywood, California experienced his first and only day of combat. He was with 1,800 men who were told to take three hills but were ambushed near Hadong. Only 125 survived including Eggen who played dead but discovered and captured.

After being held in a church that then was bombed and strafed, the surviving prisoners were taken to a prisoner of war camp in Seoul. But after a month, Eggen and others were forced to march 100 miles to Pyongyang to stay ahead of advancing U.S. troops. Eggen said, “During the march they fed us things like dog biscuits. We didn’t have much water, but the biscuits had to be soaked before you could eat them But pretty soon even the biscuits ran out, and we had nothing to eat except what we could steal along the way.”

They were divided up into groups of 50 and those in the last group, the weakest would get shot when they fell out. “Everybody tried to help his buddies, half carrying the weaker ones along.” At the finish of their 100-miler they were taken further by train and stopping near a tunnel. Most of Eggen’s group of 30 were massacred there and he was shot in the leg and again played dead. Six survived, went into the woods and later were found and rescued by American airborne troops.

Great Escape 100-miler

In 1950, at Monroe, Louisiana, two boys age 15 and 16, escaped from the Louisiana Training Institute and walked 100 miles in two days to Shreveport on railroad tracks. Both were eventually found at the home of one of their mothers and taken into custody by the police. “State troopers investigating the case said the boys had blisters as big as your fist on both feet.”

Cotton Picker 100

During November 1951, about 100 migrant Mexican workers quit their cotton-picking jobs in west Tennessee and started a 100-miler. The men had been brought from Mexico to work on a plantation owned by Terry Jamison. He said they just “walked out” of their contract. The Mexicans had quit their job because of bad food and pay.

As of November 22, 1951, forty-nine of them had finished the 100 miles, arriving in Memphis Tennessee, footsore and frightened, complaining bitterly their working conditions to Angel Cano, the Mexican consul. The feet of most of the finishers were badly blistered. They were given government-paid lodging and food in a local hotel. Fifty-one other men were still on the road walking. It was reported that others had been thrown in to jail when they tried to leave Tiptonville, Tennessee. A Sheriff admitted to jailing about 20 of the 100-miler entrants. The group was eventually provided transportation back to their homeland.

Paul Smith – Oregon’s Walking Man

Solo 100-mile attempts that were used to get public recognition and possible financial gain emerged again. Paul Arthur Smith (1884-1962) of Mill City Oregon was known locally as Oregon’s “walking man” known before and after the war. In 1911 at the age of 26, he claimed that he ran a very unlikely 130 miles from Bend to Burns, Oregon in 22:11:00. In 1926, when ultra-distance walking and running was still popular, Smith walked/ran 100 miles from Salem to Portland and back in a best known time of 16:26:10. (The distance probably was closer to 90 miles). His true fame came in 1928. Smith finished 21^st in C. C. Pyle’s race across America (The Bunion Derby).

After the war, in 1949, Smith still hoped to be a professional ultrarunner. He gained national fame when he raced a horse for 75 miles on a half-mile oval track. The horse won by 14 miles.

In 1951, Smith was 66 years old and he announced that he would try to break his own 100-mile “record,” this time walking from Bend, Oregon to Mill City. The route would involve a net descent of about 3,000 feet. Smith was a former miner, tall and weighed 190 pounds. He said he had trained for the event by walking a couple hundred miles. His attempt was sponsored by the Mill City Chamber of Commerce and attached to a big aviation day celebration.

Smith began his 100-miler. Walking during the night brought some excitement. Smith said, “Some fellow in a car apparently didn’t see me and zoomed by so close that the sandwich I was about to eat flew out of my hand and was lost. And later on, I thought I heard somebody walking behind me. When I looked back a few times I saw nothing, but still heard steps that weren’t mine. Then suddenly something nipped at my heel and when I kicked at it, I found that the thing was a porcupine. He ran away into the woods when I kicked at him, and lucky for me, I missed him.”

Walking for so long at about 4,000 feet altitude dried up Smith’s mouth. He tried to spit but instead, out came his false teeth. He said, “I was lucky again. Just as I spit ‘em out I made a grab and caught ‘em before they hit the pavement.”

Smith finished his 100-miler in 17:06:06, missing his record by 40 minutes. He said he walked 176,660 steps and wore out a quarter inch of this leather shoes. Smith was very proud of his walk and like many other professional ultrarunners through time seeking fame, overstated the feat He proclaimed that it was a world record beating a F. W. Baker of England who walked 100-miles in the time of 17:27:35 in 1926. It is extremely doubtful that Smith walked strict race-walking style as Baker did and the distance was never certified.

Smith proclaimed that he was the champion distance walker in all of Oregon and was open to any challenge, at any time, for a distance of between 50 and 150 miles. In 1952 he raced Harry Roisum from Salem to Portland and back, a distance said to be 94 miles. The heavy Labor Day holiday traffic made it a terrible experience walking mostly on the rocky road shoulders and both quit after 80 miles in 19:08:00.

Paul Smith died in 1962 at the age of 77 of a stroke and was called “Walking Smith” in his obituary.

Wally Hayward

South Africa continued to take the lead in producing the greatest 100-mile runners of the time. Wallace “Wally” Henry Hayward (1908-2006) was another elite runner following the running steps of Arthur Newman and Hardy Ballington. Hayward would become one of the greatest 100-mile runners ever. His father died when Wally was young and at age sixteen, he started working as an apprentice carpenter in South Africa.

A friend talked Hayward into taking a running job, to put in stakes for diamond mining claims. Hayward said, “I had never run before, but he said I would be fine as I was always running and walking everywhere.” They would represent prospectors and run to stake in square claims with pegs. One huge claim run involved about 6,000 runners from age 8 to 70. Prospectors gave the runners an idea where they wanted their claims and when the flag dropped for the start, it was a mass stampede to go stake the best claims.

Hayward described the chaos. “When I got to the spot that I was to peg, where was an argument going on between a man who pegged some valuable claims and two big bullies who pulled his pegs out and put their own in. There was a big dispute which resulted in the poor man who pegged first being beaten up and his leg broken.”

Formal Running Begins

In 1927 at the age of 19, he joined a Boy’s Club and was invited to go running. His first run ended up being for 10 miles which he thought was nuts. He said, “In those days there was no one to tell you how or when you should run. There were no books to advise you. I used to go out training every afternoon.” He ran in a few races and at the end of 1929 read about the Comrades Marathon. He wrote the race director Vic Clapham and was shocked in the reply to learn that the race was about 54-56 miles. His longest run up to that point was 37 miles. He decided to enter the 1930 race.

Hayward was clearly a rookie at the 1930 Comrades and went out fast. By the halfway point he surprised everyone and held a 29-minute lead. Clapham warned him that if he didn’t ease up he would hit the wall and that he did, going up Polly Shorts. But he generally held it together enough to win by 31 seconds with a time of 7:27:26. He would go on to win Comrades a total of five times.

In 1931 Hayward broke a bone in his foot while training for Comrades and the next year was told by a doctor that some chest pain he was feeling, was due to a strained heart. At age 23, he was told to never run again. He put running aside for a few years until a specialist told him the diagnosis was “rubbish” and told him to go home and put on his running shoes. By 1938 he was competing again.

Hayward would run many miles alone on the trails. He wrote, “Sometimes I would run anything from two to six hours cross-country just for the pleasure it gave me, jumping over bushes, running through forests and swamp lands, traversing rivers, anything for fun. By the time I reached home, I am sure many people used to say to themselves, ‘There’s a scruffy and dirty looking guy. I wonder if he ever has a bath or washes his clothes.’”

With the outbreak of World War II, Hayward was attached to the South African Engineer Corp working in railroad construction, building and fixing bridges. As he became stationed in Egypt, he was known to run at least five miles before breakfast. He also ran in Italy and Syria.

Post-war Runnng

Hayward returned from the war in 1945, worked as a building inspector, and decided to start training seriously. He would often run home from work, returning after dark at 10 p.m. After being away from Comrades for 20 years, he ran again in 1950 and won. The next year, 1951, he broke the “down record” in 6:14:08. That year he was recognized as being the top amateur athlete in Africa and was chosen to run on the 1952 Olympic marathon team. He finished tenth in the Helsinki games.

Hayward said that 1953, at age 45, was his greatest running year. First, he won Comrades in an astonishing record time of 5:52:30, the first to break six hours.

Next, he went to England to compete on the world stage. He got four-months’ leave from his job and mortgaged his home to raise money for expenses. He first went and ran the London to Brighton running race, formally in its third year. He boarded with Arthur Newton who passed on wonderful advice. The British running community was very curious how he would do knowing that he was unbeaten in ultra-distances.

It was evident shortly after the start that Hayward was out to win. Soon after 20 miles he went into the lead and was ahead of the course record pace set by Newton. At Crawley he couldn’t use the railway level crossing because of a train so he ran down the steps into the subway beneath the line. By 40 miles he was well ahead of the field and went on to win in 5:29:40, breaking the record time by 22 minutes. His time also beat the unofficial world 50-mile road record held by Hardy Barrington by about three minutes.

100-mile World Record

Hayward, Reynolds, and Mekler at the start

It finally was time for Hayward to attempt to run 100 miles. Hayward planned to try to break Hardy Ballington’s record time of 13:21:19. (See episode 60). Derek Reynolds of England and 20-year-old Jackie Mekler of South Africa also participated in this “time trial.” Newton gave advice to the rookie 100-mile runners about “hitting the wall” at about mile 70. Running legend, Peter Gavuzzi was Haywards crew chief that day.

Gavuzzi suggested that the runners receive enemas before going to bed the evening before in order to save time spent in the bushes during the race. They went to bed early for the early morning start.

Mekler wrote, “This was exciting stuff for the local inhabitants, many of whom stayed on in the bar at the hotel until the start of the race. A lively party was still going strong when we arrived for a light breakfast at 2:30 a.m. It was absolutely bizarre eating this early morning meal amidst the blaring music being thumped out of a piano. The party came to an abrupt end when we were called to the start. Apart from a pool of light from the hotel, it was pitch dark.” They were off and running at 3 a.m.

Hayward wrote, “I set off with a good measure of confidence and ran steadily for the whole race.” At 25 miles he was 10 minute behind record time but by 50 miles he was 16 minutes ahead. He added, “Fortunately I didn’t hit the wall as Newton predicted for which I was thankful. My time was 12:20:28. I broke Ballington’s record by 1 hour 53 minutes.” It was reported, “The South African finished with a sprint and was given a great ovation by the waiting crowd as he broke tape. His nearest rivals were more than an hour behind him.” It was believed to be a world record at the time although the course was never certified and thought to be quite a bit short of 100 miles.

24 hours World Record

With the 100-mile world record achieved, Arthur Newton encouraged Hayward to go after the 24-hour world record. Hayward wrote, “I was somewhat dumbfounded, bearing in mind 72 miles was my longest ever training run. 100 miles was bad enough, now he wanted me to tackle a world record that stood at over 152 miles. The man was nuts.”

The attempt was arranged at very short notice for judges, time-keepers, lap scorers and others. The venue selected was at Motspur Park in Surrey. The Motspur Park athletics stadium was built by the University of London in 1928 and achieved fame when the world mile record was set there in 1938. In 1952 Derek Reynolds ran a world record 50 miles on this track in 5:30:22, so it was a fast cinder 440 yard track surface.

Hayward was still suffering some leg pain from the 100-miler but was reasonably confident that he could compete well. Six runners competed, with his main competition coming from Derek Reynolds of the Blackheath Harriers, winner of London to Brighton in 1952 and the 50-mile world record holder.

Newton and Gavuzzi again assisted Hayward with pre-race preparation and race strategy. “They based Hayward’s schedule on the theory that one had to put in a lot of miles early on to make up for the final hours, when the pace was sure to drop.” They believe he could reach 170 miles.

The historic race began on November 20, 1953 at 11 a.m. in foggy weather. Hayward started out running comfortable seven-minute miles. He reached 50 miles in 6:06:34 with a 12-minute lead. “By 60 miles I was ahead of the existing world record for the intermediate distances and broke the 100-mile world record with a time of 12:46:34, the first to break 13 hours.”

After reaching 100 miles, he came off the track for his only long stop for a massage and a bowl of rice pudding. After a half-hour rest, cramping set in and he could hardly walk. Olympic marathoner, Tom Richards was there and observed, “I think wally made a big mistake when he came off the track. I remember him being laid out on the massage table in the changing rooms. He had stiffened up so much that it was as if rigor mortis had set in. We took it in turns trying to massage some life back into his legs. His huge calf muscles were solid, like oak.”

Eventually he managed to jog on in a painful, awkward-looking style. At dawn he was moving with about ten-minute-miles with four more hours to go. Reynolds was catching up and this helped motivate Hayward to push on.

Newton, age 70, and Gavuzzi kept him well-supplied with tea, soup, and custard. “all the hot drinks were prepared on a little stove. In the early hours I threw a major tantrum because my drinks were not hot, only to be told they had just come off the stove.”

At 22:41:21, Hayward broke Newton’s 152-mile 24-hour world record set in 1931, but in the last 80 minutes could only manage five miles an hour. He finished with 159 miles, 562 yards, a new 24-hour world record. Reynolds finished in second place. He reached 100 miles 13:35:27 and reached 154 miles in 24 hours. Hayward held the 24-hour record for the next 26 years.

Hayward wasn’t terribly pleased with this performance. He said the veins in the right calf of his leg gave him severe pains during the last ten hours. At the finish he said, “Thank God that’s over. Never again, it was awful.” It was reported, “He flopped exhausted on a dressing room bench and scarcely seemed interested as aides told him he had smashed every known record from eight hours up. During the monotonous jogging around the oval track he lost seven pounds.” He ate two pounds of sugar, drank a pint of tomato soup, and a pint of milk in which were six beaten eggs.

Later he reflected, “I really made a hash of it. Coming off that track at 100 miles was the biggest mistake I ever made. I just couldn’t get going again. For me, it was a wasted opportunity. I should have gone considerably further than I did. If anyone breaks my record, good luck to them.”

It was reported in England, “Records fell like autumn leaves and even the officials lost count of the number which Hayward broke, but all the known world figures from eight hours and 64 miles, most of which were established in the 1880’s both in England and America were bettered by Hayward.”

About the general experience he said, “This type of race eventually gets very boring. Like a pig with its snout to the ground, you circulate, lap after lap after lap.” At the airport to fly back to South Africa, Hayward said, “After the run I said I was finished, but fools always try these things again.” After a few months, he was ready to compete again. His trip to England cost 550 pounds, worth $20,500 in 2020.

1954 100-mile attempt

On July 17, 1954, at the age of 46, Hayward made another attempt to break the 100-mile world record, this time on a road in South Africa from Standerton to Germiston in mid-winter. The weather turned bad with a strong wind a few hours before the start. Hayward ate a pre-race meal of a huge steak, two eggs, and 12 slices of brown bread and jam. He was away running at 1 a.m. and said, “It was so bitter cold that I put my tracksuit top on, which was not much use as first the rain began, followed by sleet. On top of this I was running into a 40 mph headwind. The judges suggested I abort the run and try in better conditions but I refused. I was determined to carry on, come what may.”

His crew chief, Fred Morrison, kept him full of hot tea or coffee and would throw a heavy woolen blanket over his head and shoulders during his stops. Despite the challenging conditions, he made good progress and in the morning was joined by boys from a local orphanage. He reached 50 miles in 6:20:35.

With just a few miles to go in the afternoon, he still had hopes of breaking the record. However, a steep hill took its toll on him. “Hundreds of people, including my wife, and daughter, congregated at Germiston Lake to welcome me at the finish. The crowd gave me a great cheer as I completed the final mile lap and breasted the tape in 13:08:08. This was a new South African record, but well outside my world record time of 12:20:28.”

A local reporter wrote, “He missed the word record for the simple reason that he had mistimed, not his run, but the season. He should have tried in summer. At one time the temperature was below zero.”

Sadly, Hayward’s amateur career came to end later that year when the South Africa Amateur and Cycling Association declared him as a professional, claiming he broke rules for accepting funds directly from donors for his record attempts in England. The declaration was highly controversial and condemned throughout the country. He said, “The whole episode was very, very distressing. It was grossly unfair and left me a bitter man. I had done my best for South Africa and this had to happened.” His 100-mile running career came to an end.

The ban from competition remained until 1974. At the age of 70 in 1978 he finished a marathon in an impressive 3:06:24. In 1988 at the age of 79, he finished Comrades in under 10 hours, beating half of the field. He finished again the next year at the age of 80. It was reported, “Shortly before the start, Hayward, a few weeks short of his 81st birthday, fell awkwardly as he stepped off a pavement in Pietermaritzburg. Many of us have witnessed the consequences of a fall for an octogenarian. Often it is what concerned family members tend to call ‘the beginning of the end’. Hayward’s response was somewhat different. He got up, dusted himself off and proceeded to complete the Comrades Marathon. It wasn’t his most impressive run. He only just beat the time limit and was hospitalized for a few days. But he made it!”

Wally Hayward passed away at the age of 97 in 2006.

Padre Island, Texas 110-miler

Padre Island, about 113 miles long, is the longest barrier island in the world. This long, skinny, sandy island is the second largest island by area in the lower-48 states. In the 1950s, the island was undeveloped and used almost exclusively by ranchers.

In 1951, Cash Asher (1891-1981), a journalist and author, was the publicity man for the Padre Island Park Board. He came up with the idea of holding a 110-mile walking race the length of the island end-to-end. This would be a way to get more publicity for the island and thus attract tourists

Asher named the race “Padre Island Walkathon.” Word of the race was publicized, and registration opened in early 1953. The format for the event was as a three-day staged race from the southern tip of the island to the northern end. The contestants would walk on no roads, just beach and sandy tracks pounded down by vehicles. This likely was the first post-war trail ultramarathon event in America.

The rules were pretty simple. Running was prohibited. The published rules said, “anyone caught running will be thrown out of the race.” The walkers would cover 25 miles the first day, 42 miles the second day, and 43 miles the final day. They would all camp each night on the beach. A large support caravan of vehicles would go along with the walkers, supplying food, medical treatment, news coverage, and transportation for those who dropped out. Small airplanes were used to fly news copy, photos, and radio recordings to the mainland at Corpus Christi, and would come back with supplies.

The event started on March 27, 1953. The race filled up with 70 daring starters. None of them had any true experience with this kind of event. The oldest walker was 67 years old and the youngest starter was fifteen. An unusual contestant was Tiny Thompson, a 417-pound taxicab driver from Brownsville, Texas. He was confident and said, “If my ‘dogs’ hold out, I’ll finish right up front.”

The race was started at 8:30 a.m. Sunburn was avoided by most of the walkers who wore long sleeves, long pants, sun “helmets” or caps, “and smeared protective oils on their hands and faces.” More than half the field, 40 of 70, didn’t make it to the Day 1 camp. Day 2 took a heavy toll as 20 walkers didn’t make it all the way to camp and dropped out. Only six contestants started Day 3 for the final 43-mile segment. Three finished. In first place was Jess Shamblin, age 42, of McAllen, Texas, with a total walking time of 28:48 for the 110 miles.

The Padre Island Walkathon created quite a stir in Texas, opening minds to what truly was possible. Covering ultra-distances could be accomplished by non-professionals. The race continued to be held in various forms until 1969. See episode 1 for more details.

March of Dimes 100-miler

In January, 1955, Dick Mitchell, a Marine Corp recruiting sergeant in Carbondale, Illinois went on a 100-mile hike to raise $5,000 for the March of Dimes. Mitchell, a Purple Heart veteran of the Korean War gave himself a week to travel a highway route to 14 cities for 100 miles. “The recruiter said before his long march he was doing it to help young polio victims whose parents couldn’t afford the costly treatment.” He said, “I never thought this would be this big.”

Mitchell walked in a combat uniform with a rifle slung on his shoulder. He was with donned a pair of well-broken-in GI shoes and was equipped with three pair of wool socks. He said, “I can afford a blister or two to help buy crutches for the polio kids.” He returned home each night after hiking from 12-20 miles between cities. He went back each morning to the point where he stopped the previous night.

Counting side-stops, foot races, and exhibitions, he thought he actually covered 200 miles. A one point he reached an intersection and vowed he would not move another step until $100 was collected. Mitchell’s idea eventually caught on for group walks. The first March of Dimes Walkathon was held in 1958, in Tennessee.

Punishment 100-miler

In 1957, in Germany, eight U.S. paratroopers became lost or went AWOL for three days while on maneuvers. To make up for the lost training and proficiency points lost to their unit, they were ordered to march 100 miles back to their barracks in Munich. Two sergeants and a chaplain marched with them. Six of them made it back in 46 hours with normal rest and sleep in field conditions. Only one man thought it was a rotten deal. The rest seemed to enjoy it and thought the work was justified.

Man vs. Horse

Two naïve college track stars from Brigham Young University in Utah, believed they could race two horses for more than 100 miles and beat them. They were Albert Ray (age 24) of St. Albans, New York, and Terry Jensen (age 18) of Idaho Falls, Idaho. Ray was confident. “I think we’ll beat them. The asphalt will be murder on the horses’ feet.”

The race started in downtown Salt Lake City on November 15, 1957 and was scheduled to go to the rural town of Roosevelt. BYU track coach Clarence Robison (1923-2006) drove along with the runners crewing them. That night, runner Jensen dropped out about the 55-mile mark along the Deer Creek reservoir up Provo Canyon due to a tight leg tendon. The other runner, Ray slept for about 2.5 hours during the early morning at about the 70-mile mark in Heber City and was in excellent condition.

Ray reached the 100-mile mark in about 35 hours. Coach Robison ran along pacing him at times during the second night. At about mile 110, with about 48 miles to go, Ray rested for 90 minutes at Current Creek, but shortly thereafter gave up the race because he was hobbling on swollen ankles. He was clearly under-trained for ultradistances. He said, “I caught up with the horses at Current Creek and felt fine except for my feet and ankles. I was forced to quit because the doctors were afraid that blood poisoning was starting to develop in the legs.” The two horse won reaching 157 miles.

The race was held again in 1958 with three professional runners competing. The horses won again but Edo Romagnoli (age 37), a New York City policeman who had won multiple marathons went the furthest. He reached the 100-mile mark in 21:22 which was the fastest known 100-mile time for an American in the post-war period up to that time. He dropped out at mile 118. Later he appeared on the TV show, To Tell the Truth. For more details, see Episode 2.

100-mile Walk for Peace

In April 1958, protesters got into the 100-mile journey effort. At Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, 60 people set off on a 100-mile walk to the United Nations headquarters in New York City to protest nuclear bomb tests that were taking place. They wanted tests to stop because of the danger of radioactive fallout. Many of the walkers brought their children along. They carried signs that read “stop atom tests” and “Start to disarm.” After the second day of 20 miles, half of them had to drop out because of jobs or schools but 30 continued in the rain from Trenton, New Jersey. Motorists along the way were mostly encouraging and accepted pamphlets. Many with very sore feet made it and joined a group of 500 peace walkers from six states who paraded through midtown Manhattan. Four months later, the United States detonated the first nuclear weapon in outer space.

The Dutch 100-miler

1958 marked the 50^th year that a 100-mile hike was held as part of a Dutch foot festival. The event was organized in 1909 with 45 hikers who made a trek around the Nijmegen countryside. For the 50^th anniversary of the event, 14,000 soldiers from 12 countries and civilians made the hike under the sponsorship of the Royal Netherlands League for Physical Culture. The group hiked 25 miles for four consecutive days to reach 100 miles. Those who finished were presented with a small gilt cross.

“The network of secondary roads spreading out from Nijmegen provides a different 25-mile route for each day’s march. Motorcycle squads and Dutch highway police direct the marchers, who begin and end each hike from a central point in the heart of the city. On the final day of this year’s festival, 500,000 men, women and children lined the last three miles of the route to cheer on the 12,682 bone-weary finishers.”

The Four Day march continues to present-day, and has been held for more than 100 years. In 2017, nearly 49,000 hikers participated.

Ron Hopcroft – 100 mile world record

Ronald Frederick Hopcroft (1918-2016) was born in Cheswick, England and was active in many sports as a schoolboy. He competed in cross-country and track races before being called into the service during World War II. After returning, he started running long-distance on roads in 1949 at the age of 31. In the early 1950 he started running in ultra-distance races in England including London to Brighton where he won in 1956 in 5:36:25.

Hopcroft, like the ultrarunners before him, wanted to go after to world-best 100-mile time on Bath Road from Box to London. He knew that Wally Hayward set the record in 1953 of 12:20:28. On October 25, 1958, Hopcroft, of Ealing and a member of Thames Valley Harriers, decided to run from London to Box and set off from Hyde Park Corner at 5 a.m.

Hopcroft wrote, “I had always regarded 5 a.m. as the most unearthly hour and swore that, once I left the army, nothing would ever get me up at this time, but there I was at Hyde Park Corner, all ready to run 100 miles to the little village of Box. A foggy morning, but not too cold, and at 5 a.m. precisely we were way. We being three, John Legge, Bill Wortley and myself.”

At mile five, Hopcroft parted company with the other runners and went on ahead for the rest of the journey alone, battling the clock. He reached the marathon mark in 3:02. Near Maidenhead he was chased by a dog for a couple hundred yards with no one in sight to help.

He reached 30 miles at Reading in under three and a half hours before the hills started. Crowds cheered him on and he reached 50 miles in 5:46:37. “Between 60 and 70 miles I had my first feed, a cup of tomato soup and a very thin savoury sandwich of whole-meal bread dipped in soup. I gobbled it down as quickly as possible while half trotting. At 80 miles (9:36:26) I was really in trouble. For the first time I had two or three little walks, 20 yards or so. Another wash, with my attendants pulling the bucket away from me just as I was enjoying it. Another meal as before and I was away to a really good spell of eight miles at a speed just inside seven-minute miles.”

At mile 95 he was told by a young local cyclist that he was going up his last hill. He had exactly 48 minutes left to beat the record. He said, “By now we had a terrific following of motorists, motor and pedal cyclists and pedestrians running.” Large groups of spectators cheered as they were told that a world record was being broken.

“Only three miles left now. But what is this? Another hill and this proved to be the last straw. I just couldn’t run up it. Pleadings and exhortations almost turned to threats in an effort to keep me running.” His crew chief drove to the finish and then ran toward him bringing their last bottle of pop which he quickly drank. He also received the welcome news that after then next group of trees that it was all downhill.

“It was dusk now and what a joy to see the lights in the village of Box, but where was the Bear Inn? Just around the corner, just around the corner. To my relief I saw a big banner across the road with the wonder word ‘finish.’” He finished in a new world record on the course of 12:18:16 and said, “What a reception there was. Almost the whole village had turned out. A garland of flowers round my neck and females queuing to congratulate me in the traditional manner.”

Hopcroft continued to compete at ultra distances until 1961 after being stopped by an ankle injury and the pressure of business and family commitments. But he served many years as president of running clubs and died at the age of 98 in 2016.

1959 100-mile race in Surrey, England

A 100-mile race was organized in 1959 by the Road Runners Club with the hope to beat Hopcoft’s 1958 100-mile record.

On October 24, 1959 at 4 a.m., twelve men set out to run twenty times around a five-mile circuit at Walton-on-Thames, Surrey. Race Director Ernest Neville said, “The ambition of a lot of athletes is to say they have run 100 miles, and this is their chance to do it.”

“Good progress was made in the calm conditions and at 30 miles. there were five runners bunched together in the lead. They were all running steadily and keeping within scheduled time, two minutes ahead of Hopcroft’s record pace.”

Arthur Mail, age 37, of Derby, won in 13:17:39 and Don Turner finished second with 13:33:54. The four others did not finish including Hopcroft. Mail said, “I must be crazy to run 100 miles.”

100-mile Love Race

In Bangor, Wales in 1960, two identical twins, Howard and Vaughan Clarke, age 19, staged a 100-mile walking race for the hand of a 19-year-old coed they both loved. Jean Gowan just could not make up her mind which one to marry. Jean finally decided the two electronics engineering students should hold a gentlemanly contest of some kind to settle her indecision once and for all.

She met the two at a university dance. “From then on, she’d date first one and then the other and sometimes couldn’t be sure which one had showed up to take her out. When the dating blossomed into love, well, things got more confusing by the moment.

Jean said, “I love them both. We have thought carefully about who my future husband might be but we think this is the best way. The winner can take me to the school ball on Saturday, then we’ll get the engagement ring.”

All three insisted that the contest was not a publicity stunt and that they were doing it for love, not money. They said if they ended up tied that they would try something else, perhaps a boxing match. The course was from Bangor to Flint and back.

The race began on February 19, 1960. After waving a scarf at the town clock and murmuring, “May the best man win”, Jean jumped into an automobile and followed for a short distance. But she returned to Bangor, expecting to greet the winner when they returned some time the next day.

The twins were allowed to walk or run. After they reached Colwyn Bay, at about the 20-mile mark, Vaughan Clarke was grabbed by students packed into a waiting car who kidnapped him. Howard then quit the race and said, “This has wrecked all our plans.” It was believed that Vaughan was taken to the Liverpool Campus by students who opposed the gamble for a lady. Jean was in a quandary and said, “All this does is increase the suspense and frustrate us all. I do hope Vaughan will be returned so he can continue the race. I do hope Vaughan’s safe. I love them both.”

It was reported that Local Welsh folk hinted the whole thing might have been a hoax and connected to “Rag Week” when students perform stunts to raise money for charity. Vaughn was released and an abbreviated version of the race was then scheduled but stopped when parents of the three stepped in. They said no engagement would take place. The three soon admitted that the “love race” was a hoax and that they did it as a publicity stunt to put Bangor on the map.

100 miles on a bet

In September 1960, a Bart Barror, 28 of Assumption, Illinois, a former high school football hero, boasted to friends that it would be easy to walk 100 miles in 40 hours. His friends were sure he couldn’t and put up $250 against his success. Barror measured out a two-mile course and start at 6 a.m. one morning.

After eleven and a half hours, he had covered 36 miles and was still on schedule. His wife wanted him to stop and said, “he’s getting awfully tired. I didn’t want him to take the bet, but I thought he could do it. He doesn’t care too much about the money, he just wanted show his friends that he could win.” Barror quit just a half hour later at 12 hours. He said, “The first twenty miles were a breeze, but after that, the going was rough.” He thought a younger man could do it.

Jackie Mekler of South Africa

Jack “Jackie Mekler” (1932-2019) was yet another amazing ultrarunner from South Africa who also was a five-time winner of the Comrades Marathon. His first Comrades attempt was in 1952. In 1953 he ran in Hayward’s Box to London 100 miler at the ripe age of 21. Mekler finished second to Hayward (12:20:28) with a time of 13:08:06, which also beat the old world record. In 1954 he broke the 50-mile world record with 5:24:27.

Mekler’s 1953 100-mile finish, second to Hayward

In 1958, Mekler decided to try to beat Hayward’s road 100-mile world record. Hayward felt that Mekler could do some comfortably. Mekler did not want to do it in a solo attempt and asked that a race be organized. A sea-level course was found but due to lack of support and Mekler’s poor condition at the time, the idea was dropped and soon Hopcroft broke the 100-mile record that year.

After winning London to Brighton in 1960 with a course record of 5:25:56, just three weeks later Mekler decided to attempt Hopcroft’s 100-mile record on Bath Road going from Hyde Park Corner to Box. He knew that going after records in England was better than in South Africa because of the lower altitude.

The solo run organized by the Orad Runners’ Club started at 4 a.m. on October 16, 1960. The unconventional reverse direction from London was necessary to avoid heavy London traffic in the late afternoon. Ultrarunning legend, Peter Gavuzzi gave him a pre-race massage and Hopcroft, paced him for the first 10 miles out of London. Mekler said, “I appreciated this sporting, kind and encouraging gesture from the record holder.”

A cold wind blew an icy blast on his exposed legs and it seemed impossible for him to warm up. At 17 miles he was only two minutes behind record pace. “I knew I was not running as freely or as easily as I had hoped.” He had his first drink there, bottled lemon squash with glucose and salt. He went on and hit the marathon mark in 3:04 still just two minutes behind the record pace.

“The wind and weather remained cruel. As the darkness of night gave way to the cold, the first hind of trouble occurred in a pain behind my right knee. I continued to run into a strong and icy headwind and my running lacked ease and confidence.” By mile 40 he realized that his chance of event finishing were slipping away, ten minutes behind Hopcroft’s pace. He reached 50 miles in 6:08:06 with a painful knee and swollen Achilles tendon. At that point he quit in great disappointment. “I felt that I had been cheated as I was still full of pent-up energy and enthusiasm, but once again disaster had struck.”

His Achilles injury was serious and in those days was regarded as untreatable and career ending. But in 1961 a successful surgery was performed and in 1962 he had completely healed and was winning races again. Jackie Mekler never raced 100 miles again but went on to complete an impressive running and died in Cape Town, South Africa on July 1, 2019 at the age of 87.

The parts of this 100-mile series:

Sources:

M. Jamieson, Wally Hayward, Just Call me Wally
Jackie Mekler, Running Alone: The autobiography of long-distance runner Jackie Mekler
John Cameron-Dow, Comrades Marathon – The Ultimate Human Race
“Ron Hopcoft” Thames Valley Harriers
Ron Hopcoft 100-mile race report
The Times (Shreveport, Louisiana), Jun 27, 1950
Valley Times (North Hollywood, California), Jan 20, 1951
Statesman Journal (Salem, Oregon), Jun21, Jull 3, Aug 2, 1951, Sep 1, 1952, Jul 12, 1961, Apr 30, 1962
Greater Oregon (Albany, Oregon), Jul 20, 1951
Albany Democrat-Herald (Albany, Oregon), Jul 19, 1951
Alabama Journal (Montgomery, Alabama), Nov 23, 1951
The Vancouver News-Herald (Canada), Nov 23, 1953
The Miami News (Florida), Nov 21, 1953
The San Francisco Examiner (California), Nov 23, 1951, Nov 22, 1953
Coventry Evening Telegraph (England), Sept, 26, Oct 24, Nov 21, 1953, Jan 27, 1954, Oct 17, 24 1959
Shields Daily News (England), Nov 23, 1953
Aberdeen Evening Express (England), Nov 23, 1953, Oct 15, 1960
The Daily Chronicle (De Kalb, Illinois), Jan 31, 1955
The Daily Register (Harrisburg, Illinois), Jan 24, 1955
Sunday News (Lancaster, Pennsylvania), Feb 20, 1955
The Morning News (Wilmington, Delaware), Aug 15, 1957
The Observer (London, England), Jul 7, 1957, Oct 25, 1959
The Courier-News (Bridgewater, New Jersey), Mar 31, 1958
The Ottawa Citizen (Canada), Oct 4, 1958
Hammersmith & Shepherds Bush Gazette (England), Oct 31, 1958
Rutland Daily Herald (Vermont), Oct 2, 1959
The Daily Oklahoman (Oklahoma City, Oklahoma), Oct 25, 1959
The People (England), Oct 25, 1959
The Hanford Sentinel (California), Feb 19, 1960
The Monitor (McAllen, Texas), Feb 19, 1960
Press and Sun Bulletin (Binghamton, New York), Feb 19, 1960
The Logansport Press (Indiana), Feb 20, 1960
The Spokesman-Review (Spokane, Washington), Feb 20, 1960
The Morning News (Wilmington, Delaware), Feb 20, 1960
The Press Democrat (Santa Rosa, California), Feb 21, 1960
Great Falls Tribune (Montana), Feb 21, 1960
Herald and Review (Decatur, Illinois), Sep 24, 1960
The Decatur Daily Reivew (Illinois), Sep 25, 1960

61: The 100-miler: Part 8 (1950-1960) Wally Hayward and Ron Hopcroft

By Davy Crockett

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