The First Four Minutes

My four-minute mile was secure, but it was only a question of time before John Landy from Australia or Wes Santee from America broke the barrier too, perhaps lowering my record as well. We had proved in Oxford that the four-minute mile was possible, and now the progress would continue. Landy, in search of ideal record-breaking conditions, arrived in Finland just before my Oxford run. His first attempt took 4 minutes 1.6 seconds, and I waited expectantly for even better time.

Then one day Chris Chataway surprised me by saying he had decided to go to Finland to race against Landy. I said I felt certain that this would provide Landy with the stimulus he was so obviously needing. In Finland he had already run four races close to the four-minute mile, but he still seemed unable to cut down the last two seconds. Chris thought there must be something wrong with a runner who could break 4 minutes 3 seconds so many times and yet not get below four minutes, even under Scandinavian conditions. He thought he might beat Landy, who was believed to have no finishing burst, by hanging on and sprinting past him in the final straight. At the time, quite humanly I think, I was a little upset at the thought that in the process Landy might break my own record.

So, after having pulled me from in front at Oxford, Chris went to Finland and pushed Landy from behind at Turku. They raced on June 21, and weather conditions were ideal. Landy led after the first lap. He glanced behind him at the bell and, seeing Chris on his heels, took fright as he had never done during his solo runs. Almost for the first time, under the stimulus of real competition, he unleashed a tremendous finish, which at last brought him below four minutes. He set up a magnificent new world record of 3 minutes 58 seconds.

I was waiting for the news at home and heard the first announcement. For a few minutes I was stunned. The margin of 1.4 seconds by which he had broken my record was even greater than anything I had feared.

The real struggle between Landy and myself now began. In six weeks we were to race against each other in the Empire Games in Vancouver. The four-minute mile, however final and perfect it had seemed at Oxford, now meant nothing unless I could defeat John Landy.

My plans were extremely simple. I had to force Landy to set the pace of a four-minute mile for me, rather as Arne Andersson had done for Gunder H�gg in 1945. I must reserve my effort of will power for the moment when I would fling myself past him near the finish. Until then I would be entirely passive, thinking of nothing else throughout the whole race.

Landy had always run his best races from the front. My only worry was that at the last minute he might try to run a waiting race. If he did this, then either of us might win, and the final time would be slow. The race would give no satisfaction either to us or to the spectators. To dissuade him from running this kind of race I tried to demonstrate in the AAA Championships on July 10, 1954, only three weeks before the Empire Games, what might happen if he failed to set a fast enough pace.

I waited behind the field until the beginning of the back straight, 300 yards from the tape. Then I tore home with the fastest sprint I could produce. My time was 4 minutes 7.6 seconds, and I ran the last lap in 53.8 seconds, almost as fast as I can run a flat 440 yards. I had some added verve for the race because I had qualified as a doctor the day before. Including my research in Oxford, I had been studying and running for nearly eight years.

I knew that the only weak spot in John Landy's racing armor was his finish, and I now hoped I had convinced him that he must lead.

On the day of the final, Saturday, August 7, the stadium was filled with one of the most enthusiastic crowds I have ever seen. The setting was perfect. The newly built stadium lay there in the sunshine, the flags of the competing countries silhouetted against the mountains of Vancouver Island.