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. 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 they had done so.”
The stopwatches held the answer.
The announcement came, “Ladies and
gentlemen, here is the result of event
nine, the one mile: first, number forty one, R. G. Bannister, Amateur Athletic
Association and formerly of Exeter and
Merton Colleges, Oxford, with a time which
is a new meeting and track record, and
which – subject to ratification – will be a
new English Native, British National, All-
Comers, European, British Empire and
World Record. The time was three…”.
The roar of the crowd drowned out the
rest of the announcement. Bannister’s time
was 3 min 59.4 sec. The unbreakable
record had been broken. At age 25, Roger
Bannister had etched his name in history.
Act II – Running and competing, after
May 6th 1954, in which a racing career
concludes.
The ‘floodgates’ didn’t open for sub-4
minute miles, as predicted, after that day
at Iffley Road but within a month, the
Australian runner John Landy had broken
Roger Bannister’s record, running 3:57.9 in Turku, Finland. Global interest was
focused on the mile distance and this set
the scene for an epic meeting, ‘The Mile of
the Century’, to be conducted in July in the
1954 British Empire and Commonwealth
Games in Vancouver, Canada. The mile final
would be a showdown between the world’s
two fastest milers, Landy the front-runner
against Bannister the fast finisher and it was
as publicised and anticipated as Mo Farah’s 2012 Olympic appearances. In execution it
did not disappoint.
Following Landy’s front-runnning, Roger
Bannister recalls his thinking with 200m
remaining, “If Landy did not slacken soon I
would be finished. As we entered the last
bend I tried to convince myself that he was
tiring. With each stride now I attempted to
husband a little strength for the moment at the end of the bend when I had decided
to pounce. I knew this would be the point
where Landy would least expect me, and if I
failed to overtake him the race would be his.
When the moment came my mind would
galvanise my body to the greatest effort it
had ever known. I knew I was tired. There
might be no response, but it was my only
chance.”
What happened next sealed the legendary
status of this race. By pure coincidence,
Bannister launched his attack right at the
exact moment that Landy looked back
inside and to his left. The Englishman
passed by unseen and gained the vital few
metres to go for victory.
The final result saw both runners go
under four minutes but Bannister came in
first at 3:58.8 to Landy’s 3:59.6. Laterthat year, Roger Bannister was awarded
the Silver Pears Trophy, bestowed annually
for the outstanding British achievement in
any field. He also secured the European title in the 1500 metres before retiring from
competition, aged 25.
Act III – In which our hero, now retired
from athletics’ competition, fulfills his
professional and personal goals, out of
sight of an adoring and respectful public.
On stage, the lights dim to almost darkness
but the action has continuity and is
purposeful for society.
It is perhaps fitting that the third Act
be the shortest of all, in script, despite
it covering the longest temporal period,
60 years. This brevity can be regarded as
the antithesis of what Sir Roger Bannister
perhaps would wish for his own story.
At the end of 1954, Bannister retired from athletics’ competition but not running,
to pursue his medical studies full-time,
becoming a consultant neurologist. He gained
closure on his racing career in the well expressed and, at times, lyrical prose of his
autobiography, First Four Minutes, published
in 1955. It has since been reprinted as, Four
Minute Mile and Frank Horwill would always
insist that this autobiography should be
required reading for all BMC boys and girls
and women and men.
After completing his medical studies, he
combined a career of clinical practice and
research as a neurologist. He continued to run for enjoyment and fitness until
1975, when he suffered a serious car
accident that, among other injuries, broke
his ankle. 1975 was also the year that he
gained recognition from the realm for his
combined achievements, being knighted.
He has maintained a life-long enthusiasm
for Athletics that is evidenced by his
appearance and interest in previous and
current events.
Recently, “The Bannister Effect’ has
gained increasing media coverage and is
used by many in motivational business, life
and sport settings. The argument goes that
we humans are subject to believing that all
sorts of things that are really only difficult
are actually impossible, until it is proven
otherwise. Bannister’s achievement of the
seemingly ‘impossible’ sub-4 minute mile
is the prime example that unless you can
believe that something is possible, it is likely
to remain improbable.
Our play concludes with the curtain
remaining raised, as the lights once again
brighten to reveal our hero, central stage.
Roger Bannister has refused steadfastly to
be defined or constrained by his ‘3 minutes,
59.4 seconds of fame’. Instead the eminent
neurologist, Knight of this realm, author of a classic medical textbook and former
Master of Pembroke College, Oxford, has
insisted that his achievements on the Iffley
Road’ cinders on May 6th, 1954 pale in his comparison to the other achievements
in his life. But, for the rest of the world, he exists primarily as a snapshot, an
image of supreme determination, relief and
achievement frozen forever in, and of, time.
Roger Bannister was the first to successfully
summit athletics’ ‘Everest’ and shall be
always remembered and revered for this
achievement.
by Larry Eder
