Coubertin’s principle

The marathon race is the most awe inspiring event in sports. The first man who reportedly ran the whole 26 miles from Marathon to Athens, a messenger in ancient Greece, collapsed and died after announcing victory over the Persian army.

Modern races have been less deadly but no less grueling.  Torn between a desire for glory and their own physical or mental limitations, some runners have not hesitated to cut corners, literally.

The initial winner of the 1904 Olympic marathon was subsequently disqualified when it became known that he had ridden 11 miles in a car.  The original bronze medalist at the 1896 Olympics rode part of the way in a carriage.  More recently, some runners have taken advantage of the advent of newer modes of transportation: the female winner of the 1980 Boston Marathon was disqualified for having taken the metro, others took a bus.

Nowadays, runners are equipped with race timing devices which record when they reach successive stages in a race.  From this measurement, split times and speeds are calculated and published; in the case of the New York Marathon, times are recorded every mile after mile 8.  Yet human nature having changed little, individuals remain fascinated with this mythical race and will bend principle to be recognized as successful participants.

Yesterday, we were in Manhattan to watch one of our daughters race the 2013 NY Marathon.  Afterwards, we went online to check how some friends and acquaintances had fared.  My wife by accident typed a wrong name.  To better understand, I am adding the race date on another runner whom I will call Mr. Comp. 

This is what we got:

 

The above graph shows the progress of two runners.  The left vertical axis displays their pace per mile while the bottom horizontal axis displays the length of the race.  The pace is calculated for the overall distance covered. 

The black line of Mr. Comp has a typical profile: after averaging 9 minute/mile for the first 5 kilometers, the runner slowed gradually down; by mile 14, his average pace had dropped to 10.5 minute/mile and he then maintained a 12¼ minute/mile over the last 3 miles.  Throughout the race, Mr. Comp’s electronic tag registered his splits, as evidenced by the dots in the black line.

Mr. X is a different story altogether: through mile 18, his profile is also typical as he gradually slowed down.  From mile 18 to 24, his tag didn’t record any time split.  Yet he was so fast during that portion of the race that he raised his cumulative pace to its highest level of the day.  Indeed, his "recovery" was astounding: from the mile 17 to the mile 18 marker, his pace was about 14 minute/mile; since his tag recorded his times at miles 18 and 24, it is easy to calculate that he covered that 6 mile segment at a pace of a little over 5 minute/mile!  Probably exhausted by this massive acceleration, Mr. X covered mile 24 to 25 in 12 minutes and mile 25 to 26 in 15 minutes. 

What happened?

 

The above is a partial map of the course.  It shows that the course made a narrow loop in the Upper East Side.  Indeed, after passing the mile 18 checkpoint (see red arrow), Mr. X would only need to travel 6 blocks westward to rejoin the course on Fifth Avenue, pass through the mile 24 checkpoint (black arrow) and from then on reach the finish line.  No need for a car, carriage, bus or subway.  A leisurely walk sufficed.

Of course, results are so far unofficial, but why cheat?  Mr. X was not in contention for a medal, or money prize.  He was just one of over 50,000 men and women out there, testing their own mettle and enjoying a unique moment in the most vibrant city on earth.

I perused the results of 7 runners; of these, 2 appeared to be marred by some form of cheating.  That is a lot, although my sample is so small as to be statistically non-significant.  Still, given the severity of our macroeconomic and political problems, it got me thinking.  Will principles and attitudes change away from the marathon race?

After training hard for several months, my daughter finished her first marathon in 3 hours and 35 minutes.  We are very proud of her.