Not a bad view from my office window in Fairford (picture courtesy of my colleague Sue). Certainly beats working in the centre of London. Admittedly a strange choice given the theme this week but it is topical for any UK readers. I can think of a few Australians who would love these conditions right now: apparently Melbourne experienced the hottest night for 100 years this week ... 34ºC in the middle of the night!Australians in their 20's have traditionally spent a couple of years in Europe with London as their base: work for a few months then buy a VW Combi and drive all over the continent taking in the sights, festivals etc. I always referred to it as their National Service. The girls who used to come through Queensland House, where I worked for many years, always had a wild time before going home and settling down. I'm still in touch with quite a few old friends (Linda, Majella, Donna, Kaye et al). For good runners the opportunities were fantastic: it was a chance to live the life of a professional athlete. Three such runners came over and did just that. They rented a house in Croydon and raced all over Europe. The house became a precursor to the now famous abodes in Teddington where the top Africans, Australians and Americans now live and train, basically a mecca for running with kit strewn around the place, itinerant runners sleeping on floors and always a big pot of food on the boil. I remember one Christmas the three had Italian runners staying with them. The Aussies prepared Christmas dinner with all the trimmings which went down well. By mid-afternoon they were all hungry again so the Italians cooked mounds of pasta! Italy was the favourite location for the guys, a combination of perfect running food and lots of it, plus the best money on offer at races. This was before the African domination so it was quite lucrative. Race organisers liked the publicity of antipodean runners in the field. So who were these three guys?
Max Little aka The Bear or The Tasmanian Devil, was the best runner. Another Tasmanian obviously - see my last blog - he ran in the World XC, later becoming Australia's team manager many times, won races all over Europe and had track pb's of 13:55 and 28:36, finishing 4th in the AAA 10,000 behind Brendan Foster at Crystal Palace. In his formative years as a runner he once completed 20 consecutive weeks of training between 100 and 141 miles. This workload couldn't be sustained but created a fantastic base for his future success and can be learned from - get the hard work done early and then your career is set up. The Americans are doing that right now and look at the results they are getting. Max was tall and looked like a stick insect but I've never known anyone eat as much as he did. He also had the wickedest sense of humour and was a real pleasure to be around. Like fellow international Jim Langford (last blog), Max was always happy to turn out for Ranelagh in Surrey League or Mob matches and loved the social element of the club. I remember persuading him to do the Newport to Tredegar 22 miler one December. This was the day after a Surrey League, which Max had won, and we drove down to S Wales in my old Ford Anglia. The rain never stopped, it was torrential, and my windscreen wipers failed! The race winds its way uphill all the way through some dire mining villages - goodness knows why we did it - with lashing rain throughout. For Max it was just another way to get a long Sunday run done - he was virtually last after a mile and just ran easily throughout - as well as to experience another part of the world. Similarly when training with the club on a Wednesday he was nearly always dropped in the first couple of miles because it was an easy run. His self-control and determination to do the training that was right for him was a lesson that today's runners can learn from.
Geoff Nicholson, known as Nicko, was also a top runner, albeit not in Max's class. He had some fine track pb's (8:14 whilst hitch-hiking through Sweden, 14:05, 29:30) and also loved cross country. He was good enough to make some decent money on the European circuit. I'll never forget the first time I met him, which would have been in the late 1970's. He sported a particularly hirsute look: long ginger hair and a fiery beard that hadn't been trimmed for many months - he looked like a heavy metal rock musician (I've seen a similar picture of Rob deCastella before he, like Nicko, became respectable). We still see a lot of Geoff as he comes to the UK regularly on business. He still runs regularly - despite rising to the very top in the business world he insists on getting out every day for his lunchtime run in Melbourne - and turns out most years in the famous City to Surf race in Sydney (being, I think, the only person to have run a time under his age for the tough 14km course that attracts some 75,000 participants). He's just bought a property with 27 acres of land so perhaps he might build a running track and we can all go warm weather training there.
The third of this triumvirate was George Thomas, who was without doubt the most influential person in my running career. George wasn't in the same class as the other two but loved his running and was a qualified and commited coach. He also loved fine wines which definitely endeared him to me. He stayed on in Europe for a number of years and became a very close friend. In the late 70's, when cricket was still my main sport and I only ran in winter for socialising purposes, George said to me that with a bit of application I could end up with an international vest. I put this ridiculous comment down to too much port, he and the others regularly downed great dollops of the stuff, but it sowed a seed in my mind and I started to apply myself to my running. He was a great mentor to me in subsequent years and the two of us used to race a lot in Holland where he ended up working. Even after he returned to Austrtalia he took a great interest (and pride perhaps) in my progress and even though I didn't ever get that elusive vest, I got a lot closer than would otherwise have been the case thanks to George and had a wonderful time trying. Tragically George had a heart attack and died aged 43 whilst driving home from a 10km race. A great man and a true friend.
