By 1880, “Old Sport” Peter Napoleon Campana (1836-1906), a fruit and nut peddler from Bridgeport, Connecticut, had established himself as an odd anomaly in the very popular spectator sport of six-day indoor races held in arenas in northeastern America. He had not yet won a race but would almost always stick it out to the end of the six days when usually 75% of the other runners would quit before the end. People would pay to come watch the races he was in, specifically to watch him run. Race directors would promise him a salary just to be in their races. No one ever could predict what unusual and amusing antics he would perform during a race. He seemed to never be formally training, but perhaps with all the miles he put in pushing his cart, he was able to regularly run more than 300 miles in a six-day race. Campana was unusually “unbalanced.” When some spectators mocked him, he would punch them in the face and then continue running. The crowds would roar with approval and the race management would do nothing. The New York Times wrote, “Napoleon Campana, better known to the world as ‘Old Sport,’ is called the clown of the walking matches, and a race without ‘Old Sport’ in it would be a novelty.” His eccentric nature was also seen in his personal life as a peddler in Bridgeport. His hot-headed nature would frequently end him up in jail. By 1880, his wife Jennie (Dalton) Campana had apparently left him again. He still loved her deeply and had her name tattooed on his leg. Even with the money he received at races, and with his national popularity, he appeared to be nearly destitute because he spent his earnings so quickly, likely on a lot of alcohol. O’Leary International Belt After being away from the sport for seven months, Campana, age 44, came back in January 1881 to compete in the O’Leary International Belt held in the American Institute Building, in New York City. The track was eight laps to the mile and 8.5 feet wide. It was constructed on top of the concrete floor. The track base was composed of three inches of clay and tan bark, laid over with sawdust, and surrounded by a sturdy picket fence to keep spectators off the track. Wooden huts of 10x5 feet were put up for each runner, furnished with a bed, washstand, small mirror, chair, and a gas stove. A large blackboard would be used to display the standings. Every seat within the building was filled by 10 p.m., two hours before the start, with about 5,000 people. A “sacred concert” was put on, with soothing music appropriate for Sunday. “Between the pieces of music, the sound of the busy hammers finishing the improvements in the building, the voices of sellers of programs about of the walkers, lager beer, peanuts, cakes, candies, cigars, and shooting galleries, try your weight, electric batteries, and a confused babel of thousands of voices filled the structure.” The building was lit with gas lights and warmed by steam and large stoves. The Start American Institute Hall When Campana came out to the start line on January 24, 1881, he received huge cheers as spectators recognized him. At 12:05 a.m., thirty-one starters, arranged in ten rows, were sent on their way with the word “Go” by Referee William Buckingham Curtis (1837-1900), of Wilkes’ Spirit of Times. “With a bound, the men darted around the track, the new men mostly at the top of their speed, the more experienced and knowing ones at a steady jog.” Early on, Campana kept up with the frontrunners.  After twelve hours, he reached 56 miles, eight miles behind the leader. On the next day, a cheer went up from all over the building and then changed quickly to laughter. “Campana was seen wildly flourishing his arms over and around his head, He dashed forward at the top of his speed, passed John “Lepper” Hughes (1850-1921), the leader, and then subsided into a slow and limping crawl. Bald-head Campana, with his punch-like face turned more to one side than ever, kept up the struggle gamely.

By Davy Crockett In part one, “Old Sport” Peter Napoleon Campana (1836-1906), of Bridgeport, Connecticut, a poor street vendor, and talented runner, wanted to become a professional pedestrian/ultrarunner. At age 42, he was viewed as very elderly, a strange anomaly on the track. It was said that it looked like he had been run through a threshing machine. “He looks like a physical wreck and every stranger expects to see him collapse momentarily. His shriveled, shrunken, crooked figure is one of the marvels of pedestrianism.” In early 1879, he had a poor reputation, and his integrity was questioned. But during the coming 15 months, as he ran more miles in races than anyone in the world, he would win over the hearts of the public. He would be called “perhaps one of the best-known athletes in the country.” He became a crowd favorite to watch in 1879 when the six-day race was the most popular spectator sporting event to watch in America. Learn about the rich and long history of ultrarunning. There are now twelve books available in the Ultrarunning History series on Amazon, compiling podcast content and much more. Learn More. Despite the six-day race loss to Daniel O’Leary, in December 1878, Campana, now wealthy and newly married, sought to further profit from his newfound notoriety. He was now mentioned in newspapers every week across the country. Some of the press was negative, as word spread that his Bridgeport six-day world record run of 521 miles in November 1878 was a fraud. He stated that the accusations came from disgruntled men who wanted more money from him. The New York Sun looked deeply into the matter and concluded that “the fraud was inspired by a wish to make a big record, arouse public interest, and thereby bring in gate money.” The scheme had succeeded. What was the reaction to the bombshell news in Campana’s hometown? “Bridgeport had freely given Campana their confidence and their backing. Now there is surprise that the community could have been sold so cheaply and completely. As a pedestrian, Campana is looked upon as a dead duck.”  Still, there were those who believed his effort was legitimate. A reporter from another newspaper, who witnessed the last day of that event and interviewed witnesses stated, “I gained a firm impression that the walk had been honestly conducted, and that Campana had really passed over the number of miles with which he was credited. No one whom I met in Bridgeport appeared to have any doubt about the matter.” He believed there was a conspiracy against Campana. (Author’s note: Given that Campana never exceeded 521 miles in all his future 40+ six-day races that he competed in, I believe that the effort involved fraud and should be discounted. It is likely that Campana was naïve and wasn’t involved in the fraud that was conducted by his backers.) Campana had a trial in late January for physically abusing his new young wife, Jennie A. (Dalton) Campana (1853-). She returned to her father’s home and took her new wardrobe and $100. “In court he showed a big roll of bills and said that he was in the hands of men who had hired him for a year, and he couldn’t walk anywhere without their permission.” He had argued with his wife when two other women came into their new house in Waterbury, Connecticut, who he didn’t want there. He suspected that she had him arrested so she could strip the house of costly things while he was in jail. Despite this terrible incident, the two were reconciled and Jennie moved back to their home. On the Road Campana was not a “pedestrian dead duck.” His career was just beginning, with the help of his dominating backers. At that time, professional pedestrians were not kicked out of the sport for perceived fraud or misbehavior. First, he tried to issue challenges against other runners for large amounts of money. Those went without responses. Next, he went on the road to give running exhibitions. Boston Music Hall

By Davy Crockett Peter Napoleon Campana (1836-1906), of Bridgeport, Connecticut, known as "Old Sport," was recognized as the most popular and entertaining “clown” of ultrarunning. It was said of him, "Campana kicks up his heels and creates a laugh every few minutes." He was one of the most prolific six-day runners during the pedestrian era of the sport. All of his amazing ultrarunning accomplishments were made after he was 42 years old, and into his 60s. He competed in at least 40 six-day races and many other ultra-distance races, compiling more than 15,000 miles during races on small indoor, smokey tracks. He never won a six-day race, but because he was so popular, race directors would pay him just to last six days in their races. Admiring spectators would throw dollar bills down to him on the tracks during races. He didn’t age well, lost his hair, had wrinkled skin from being outdoor so much, and people thought he was 10-15 years older than he really was. He never corrected them in their false assumption and wanted people to believe he was very old. While he was well-loved by the public, he wasn’t a nice person. During races, when he would become annoyed, he would frequently punch competitors or spectators in the face. In his private life, he was arrested for assault and battery multiple times, including abusing his wife, and spent time in jails for being drunk. Read about the fascinating history of the more than 500 six-day races held from 1875 to 1909 in Davy Crockett's new definitive history in 1,200 pages. Get them on Amazon. Campana’s Youth Campana was born in Petersburg, Virginia in 1836. His family came from France. When four years of age, he moved to New York City with his mother, his father having died in North Carolina of yellow fever. Shortly after his arrival in New York, his mother died, and he was cared for by the Metropolitan Fire Brigade. He first worked as a messenger boy, the first delivery boy for the New York Clipper in 1853, then became a hose-cart attaché, and finally a full-blown fireman, one of the “Fulton Market Boys.” On his left arm he had tattooed “Clinton Engine Co. 41, Old Stag.” He said he learned to run in the fire department and saved a great number of lives. “Like a young partridge, he tried to run as soon as he was hatched and has been running ever since.” He became very involved in athletics and received the nickname of “Young Sport.” His first race was with a man named Lee, in New York City for $10, for a half mile. He next raced the champion of New England, Amos Saunders, of Brooklyn, in a five-mile race. "The day of the race arrived and found him in prime condition for the test of endurance and speed. He won the race in a canter." As a young man of about twenty years old, in 1856, Campana moved to Bridgeport, Connecticut. He became a peddler of nuts and fruit, and at other times operated a corner peanut stand. “He soon became known in Bridgeport as an expert and fearless volunteer fireman and did good service at several large fires. He was always a fast runner and was noted for his courage and promptness of action in time of danger.” He made a challenge to all New England runners in a five-mile race to win a belt. He won the race that took place in Providence, Rhode Island. Life Before an Ultrarunner In 1860, he lived in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, again working as a fireman. He once challenged the entire fire department of the city to a half-mile race. The challenge was accepted, and he won in 2:30. He competed in several races up to ten miles and won many. He beat a noted runner, “Indian Smith” at ten miles, in 57:26. That year, he married Mary (1840-) and had a son Napoleon Campana (1861-1862) who died as a young child. They later had another child that died young. In 1862, Campana enlisted in the Civil War, with the 114th Pennsylvania Infantry. He said, "At Gettysburg, I met my first defeat as a runner.

By Davy Crockett Connie Gardner, from Akron Ohio, is the 25th person inducted into the American Ultrarunning Hall of Fame, joining the Hall in 2024. From 2002 to 2012, she was a national champion twelve times at 50 miles, 100 kilometers, 100 miles, and 24 hours. She has finished at least 180 ultras, with more than 80% of them on trails, with nearly 100 wins, including three wins at the prestigious JFK 50 in Maryland. During her ultra career, she established 37 course or event records. She was a member of the U.S. National 100K Team and the U.S. National 24-Hour Team for many years, competing in many World Championships. With a busy family life and children, she didn't start running ultras until her late 30s, but dominated into her 50s. She was named the USA Track and Field (USATF) Ultrarunner of the Year in 2003 and 2012, and the USATF Masters Ultrarunner of the year in 2011. Learn about the rich and long history of ultrarunning. There are now eleven books available in the Ultrarunning History series on Amazon, compiling podcast content and much more. Learn More. If you would like to order multiple books with a 30% discount, send me a message here. Constance “Connie” Margaret (John) Gardner (1963-), of Akron, Ohio, was born in Washington D.C. to Dr. James Edward A John (1933-2010) and Constance Brandon (Maxwell) John (1932-1999). Her father was an electrical engineer and president of Kettering University in Flint, Michigan. He worked with the National Academy of Sciences in Washington D.C. where Connie went to elementary school. Her ancestry on her father's side was from Cornwall, England, by way of Belgium and Canada. Her ancestry on her mother's side was Irish. Even as a child, she was always competitive, trying to reach for lofty goals. She explained, “My brothers and I were always trying to get into the Guinness Book of World Records, flying a kite, for three days, playing War for as many days as we could.” Each year, a field day was scheduled at her school. “I was terrible. They wouldn’t put me in anything because I wasn’t very fast. If you weren’t good at anything else, they threw you into the distance run because nobody wanted to do it. So the first year I failed and then I started to train for it. I wanted to do it. I’ve always wanted to see that I could do.” She believed she was a good kid, but got in trouble often with her teachers and sometimes experienced the paddle. She would often run before school to help her focus. “All I needed to do was to run down to the river, watch the sun come up, run home, and go to school.” High School and College Years In high school, Connie competed on the girls’ cross-country and track teams at Olentangy High School, in Lewis Center, Ohio. She won all-conference honors, running on the 4X800-meter relay. Her team finished runner-up at the state finals in 1980 and 1981. She said, "I was so focused on running, that my crowd in high school was just my cross country team, so I didn't get in any trouble.  I made sure we wouldn't botch up our chance to win state. At a young age, that kept me on a nice path." Connie attended Ohio State University and then The University of Massachusetts where she received a Bachelor of Science degree in sports management. While a freshman at age 17, she ran her first marathon at the 1981 Columbus Marathon and finished in 4:11:00. At UMass, she was on the eight-person rowing team for three years but continued running. She would run six miles to and from the boathouse. She ran a lot of 5Ks and 10Ks during the 1980s and a marathon in the fall and in the spring. In 1987, she married Robert Charles Gardner in Massachusetts. They would have two daughters, Abby and Gwen. Busy Life as a Mom Connie moved to Portland, Oregon, to attend graduate school. To earn money, she became a bicycle messenger. That unique job helped get her into top physical shape, and she started to run with running groups.

By Davy Crockett Stu Mittleman was the sixth person to be inducted into the American Ultrarunning Hall of Fame. During the 1980s, while a college professor from New York, he became the greatest multi-day runner in the country who won national championships running 100 miles, but ran much further than that in other races. During that period, no other American ultrarunner, male for female, exhibited national class excellence at such a wide range of ultra racing distances. He brought ultrarunning into the national spotlight as he appeared on national television shows and became the national spokesman for Gatorade. Learn about the rich and long history of ultrarunning. There are now eleven books available in the Ultrarunning History series on Amazon, compiling podcast content and much more. Learn More. If you would like to order multiple books with a 30% discount, send me a message here. Stuart “Stu” M Mittleman was born in New York City in 1951 to Irving Jacob Mittleman (1924-2009) and Selma R (Mitzner) Mittleman (1929-2023). His Mittleman grandparents were Jewish Russian immigrants who came to America in 1913. When he was in high school in Dumont, New Jersey in the late 1960s, he was on the track team and ran the mile in 4:39 mile, the half mile in 2:01. He was better at wrestling in which he lettered and was a district champion. At the University of Connecticut, he continued wrestling for one season but switched to long-distance swimming and weightlifting. At Colgate University, he was on the dean’s list and earned his bachelor’s degree in liberal arts. He earned his master's degree at the University of Connecticut. He was a heavy smoker during school, going through two packs of cigarettes per day. During the early ‘70s, he became disillusioned with the state of the country during the Vietnam War era and spent time on the West Coast, where he took up running again “for his head.” But while skiing in 1975, he had a terrible fall, tore his ACL and damaged cartilage. He had knee surgery and could not run for five months. When he could run again, he did it for relaxation and to find a quiet time for himself. Becomes a Marathon Runner In 1977, he ran up Flagstaff Mountain in Boulder, Colorado and fell in love with running. He went into a running store and asked how he could sign up for the Boston Marathon, three months away. They told him he needed to qualify, so he ran Mission Bay Marathon in San Diego with a qualifying time of 2:46. Early into his dream race at Boston, he was running in a drainage ditch in efforts to pass runners and twisted his ankle terribly. Disappointed, but determined, he tied ice around his swollen ankle and vowed not to drop out of the race. He finished in 4:03. He returned to Boston the next year and finished in 2:31:11. After finishing the New York City marathon six months later in 2:33:00, he couldn’t understand why he couldn’t run any faster, even though he was never tired at the end of his races. “I just started thinking, why did I have to stop? I wondered how much longer I could have run." This thought made him turn to “the longer stuff. First Ultramarathon Mittleman was 5’ 8” and about 140 pounds. As a graduate student in sports psychology at Columbia University, Mittleman ran his first ultra in 1978, running 6:11 in the Metropolitan 50 in Central Park, New York. That year the race was poorly organized, and the front-runner went off course, but he placed 8th with 6:13. “I ended up sprinting the last 10 miles and I was hooked.” He liked ultras better than marathons because they were less competitive and they had a friendlier atmosphere. The 1979 Unisphere 100 With that elite performance, he qualified to enter the 1979 Unisphere 100, held at Flushing Meadows in Queens, New York, on a 2.27-mile loop road course around Meadow Lake. This 100-miler was first held in 1978, won by Park Barner in 13:57:36. In 1979,

By Davy Crockett  During the first half of the 1980s, Bernd Heinrich, of Vermont, was the fastest ultrarunner in America. In 2007, he was the fifth person to be inducted into the American Ultrarunning Hall of Fame. Today, few know of him and his amazing running records and accomplishments. He was unique from most other ultrarunners of his time in that rather than competing in many races, he was very selective in his race choices. When he ran, he had specific goals to win or set records, with laser focused training for these few specific events. Using this approach, he was able to win and set several American records. Heinrich appeared suddenly on the ultrarunning scene, setting a record in his very first ultra, and he quickly rose to the top of the sport. He was named “Ultrarunner of the Year” three of the first four years of Ultrarunning Magazine's existence. He had a quiet nature and never sought for the running spotlight, but eventually was one of the few to be inducted in the American Ultrarunning Hall of Fame. As a boy, Heinrich grew up living deep in a forest in war-torn Germany. In his life priorities, running was secondary to his true love, observing, researching, teaching and writing about nature. During his intense running years, he was able to find a balance to become a world-renowned expert in his professional naturalist career, studying birds, bees, and other animals and insects. Ultrarunning historian, Nick Marshall wrote about Heinrich in 1984, “Often runners don’t know much about the backgrounds of individuals whose athletic accomplishments may be very familiar to them, so it is quite nice to see one of our sport’s star gain recognition as a successful pioneer in a totally unrelated field.” Learn about the rich and long history of ultrarunning. There are now eleven books available in the Ultrarunning History series on Amazon, compiling podcast content and much more. Learn More. If you would like to order multiple books with a 30% discount, send me a message here. Childhood in Germany Forest in The Hahnheide Bernd Heinrich was born in Bad Polzin, Poland in 1940 to Gerd Heinrich (1898-1984) and Hildegarde Maria (Burovna) Heinrich (1917-2012). His father became an internationally known research biologist and a German pilot during World War I. Near the end of World War II, he and his family fled their large farm near Gdansk to escape advancing Russian troops in 1944 and crossed what would be the future border for East Germany. Henrich recalled, “The times were not easy. The biggest problem was filling our bellies. Papa decided that the best chance of finding food would be in the forest. We came across a large reserve called “the Hahnheide,” and within it a small empty hut used before the war by a nature club from Hamburg. The forester in charge gave us permission to move in. We lived deep in the forest for five years. We had no work and hardly ever any money.” They survived by foraging for nuts, berries, mushrooms, and hunting small rodents and ducks. This experience began his love for nature and was “a rare mix of survival and enchantment.” Mushrooms in The Hahnheide Heinrich recalled, “We were totally immersed in nature. Like most animals, our major concern was finding food. I didn’t like picking berries because I had to move so slowly, from bush to bush. I much preferred picking mushrooms when I could run at will through the damp forest, feeling the soft green moss under my bare feet.” Young Heinrich collected beetles and birds’ eggs for his family’s food supply. He became obsessed with the creatures around him. “I had no playmates and never owned a toy. Yet I didn’t feel deprived. Who needs toys after having seen caterpillars from up close and knowing they can turn into moths?” Heinrich became fascinated with bugs and insects. When he was nine, he drew a birthday card for his father and on the back; he wrote that he had collected 447 beetles of 135 species.

By Davy Crockett Sue Ellen Trapp was one of the elite women pioneer ultrarunners who burst into the sport in the 1970s. She was the fourth person to be inducted into The American Ultrarunning Hall of Fame. She quickly achieved world and American records and showed how fast and how far women could run. With a busy life including her dental practice and family, she rose to the top of the sport twice, after an eight-year ultrarunning retirement, setting world and American records in her 40s and 50s. Learn about the rich and long history of ultrarunning. There are now eleven books available in the Ultrarunning History series on Amazon, compiling podcast content and much more. Learn More. If you would like to order multiple books with a 30% discount, send me a message here. Sue Ellen (Hamilton) Trapp (1946-), of Fort Myers, Florida was born and raised in Chicago, Illinois. Her parents were Robert Roy Hamilton (1908-1971), a tool and die maker, and Marie Blanche (Festner) Hamilton (1910-1999). She had a brother, Ross Hamilton (1942-2014) of Chicago. Her ancestors were from Pennsylvania, Germany, Austria, and Denmark. Sue Ellen and Kristina In the late 1960s, Sue Ellen went to dental school and married Ronald Edward Trapp (1943-), of Minnesota, who was also a dentist and entered the navy in 1969. He had been a cross-country runner in college. In 1971, Ron was stationed in San Francisco, California, as Sue Ellen was finishing dental school at the University of Illinois Dental School in Chicago. She gave birth to her daughter Kristina Trapp (1971-)  in April while in California, and then graduated from dental school in June. Ron and Sue Ellen training in 1975 Trapp said that she thought the baby weight would melt off, but it never did, so she took up competitive tennis and swimming, with some running to help her get into shape. Her first road race came in 1971, San Francisco’s 12 km Bay to Breakers. She said, “I thought I’d just try it, and it was awful.” Later that year, the family moved to Lehigh Acres, Florida, a suburb of Fort Myers. She and Ron set up a dental practice together and Ron took up running and tennis, too. Results of her tennis tournaments would appear in the paper and starting in 1975, she was doing well in running races, too. In 1975, Sue Ellen ran her first marathon at Gainesville, Florida, with 4:04, but gained speed quickly. She placed second in the 1976 AAU Marathon Championships in Crowley, Louisiana, with 3:10:32. The two of them won husband/wife division of that championship. That marathon finish qualified her to run the Boston Marathon by 20 minutes. Trapp won the 1975 and 1976 Melbourne Marathon, in a course record with 3:40:18 and 3:09:46. In 1976, the Trapps started the Rotary 5-miler for Lehigh Acres runners before there was even the Fort Myers Track Club. That race became a 5K and lasted for more than 40 years. Trapp was one of the very early women to run the Boston Marathon. She finished in 1977 with 3:52:33. She would run that prestigious marathon for several years and brought her time down to 3:00:42 in 1979. First Ultra Florida Space Coast 50 km After stacking up many wins during 1978 of distances from 5 miles to the half marathon, it was time for Trapp to try an ultramarathon. Her first ultra, held on December 30, 1978, was an unusual one. She ran with a field of 54 runners in the Florida Space Coast 50 km, thought to be the world’s longest beach run. At age 32, she was the first woman finisher and the tenth overall, with a time of 4:09:42. That impressive time on such a rough surface, ranked her 5th in the world for the 50 km distance. 1979-1981 – World and American Records Lydi Pallares running the 100K In February 1979, Trapp went to run a road 100K in Miami, Florida, with a massive field of 88 runners. It was also the Road Runners Club of America (RRCA) National Championship. They ran a 3.3-mile loop in a park 19 times. She was paced by two male members of the Fort My...

By Davy Crockett  Marcy Schwam (1953-) from Massachusetts, was an ultrarunning pioneer in the 1970s and early 1980s, during an era when some people still believed long-distance running was harmful to women. She won about 30 ultramarathons and set at least six world records at all ultra-distances from 50 km to six-days. She was the third person inducted into the American Ultrarunning Hall of Fame. She was bold, brazen, with an impressive “get-out-of-my-way” attitude and racing style. She would take command of a race and preferred to lead rather than follow. This courageous attitude also helped to break through the stigma held against women runners of the time. She dared to be the only woman in a race. She inspired many other women to get into the sport and reach high. Schwam trained hard and raced hard. She always knew what she was doing. Ultrarunning historian, Nick Marshall, observed, “She set lofty goals for herself and she was gutsy enough to go after them with wild abandon. She might soar, or she might crash, but either way it was going to be a maximum effort.”  She thoroughly enjoyed competitive racing, where limits were explored and tested often. Bronx, New York Marcy Schwam was born in 1953, in New York City. Her parents, Stanley Schwam (1924-) and Irma (Weisberg) Schwam (1928), were both long-time residents of the City. Stanley worked in the women’s undergarment industry for 57 years. During the 1950s, the family lived in the Bronx but later moved to Valhalla in the suburbs. Schwam's ancestry was Polish. Her grandparents and her father were Jewish immigrants who came to the United States from Poland during the early 1900s before World War II. They worked hard and successfully supported and raised their families in the big city. Early Years At the early age of five, Schwam started to take up tennis and dreamed of becoming a professional tennis player. Her father commented, “Marcy never walked anywhere. She was in constant motion all the time. She was also very competitive. If she lost at Monopoly as a kid, she wouldn’t talk to you for a week.” In high school, she was very athletic and played basketball, softball, volleyball, field hockey and even lacrosse. She did some running, but it was just a way to stay fit for tennis. To her, there was nothing else in the world that counted except playing tennis. From 1971 to 1975, Schwam attended Indiana University of Pennsylvania (IUP) where she eventually received a bachelor's degree in Health and Physical Education. (Later she also worked on a master’s degree in Exercise Physiology at Adelphi University and San Francisco State).  At IUP, She became a member of the tennis team, excelled, and became ranked number one in the state. First Running Races Schwam started running some races in 1972 at the age of 21. She explained, “As a sophomore in college in 1972, I ran a 3-mile race in Pittsburgh. I was on the tennis team and a friend on the cross-country team talked me into it. I was running to and from tennis practice and someone dared me to run the Boston Marathon.” Start of 1973 Boston Marathon In 1972, the Boston Marathon opened their race to women for the first time. Schwam entered the next year in 1973, a true pioneer women’s distance runner. The Boston Athletic Association sent entrants blue or pink entrant postcards depending on their gender and sent her a blue card with the name Marc. Apparently, they just couldn’t get used to the fact that women were running marathons. It took effort getting that corrected at check-in. She was one of only 12 women to run, finished in 4:50, and said, “I really wanted to prove that women could do these types of things. There was such a stigma about women and long-distance running that needed to be proven false and I took that upon myself to do.” Competitive Tennis 1973 Tennis Team. Marcy Schwam center kneeling But tennis was still Schwam's main sport. In college,

By Davy Crockett Sandra "Sandy" Jean (Mackey) Kiddy (1936-2018) of Rancho Mirage, California was the first woman to be inducted into the American Ultrarunning Hall of Fame. She paved the way for women in ultrarunning setting many of the early world and American ultrarunning records. She was born in Grand Rapids Michigan to Robert B. Mackey (1909-1983) and Marjorie Rosita Montez (1911-1993), Her father's ancestry was from Ireland, and her mother's ancestry was from Mexico. Sandy and went to Ottawa Hills High School, in Grand Rapids, Michigan, where she was a member of the Girls' Athletic Association. She had never been very athletic in her youth. She then went to Valparaiso University, where she earned a Bachelor of Science degree in Biology and Zoology. In 1962, she married Frederick "Fred" Kiddy, born in Sheffield, England, who became a bank manager. They married in Las Vegas, Nevada, while driving across the country to California. Once in Los Angeles, Sandy worked first at Caltech and then for Microbics at Beckman Instruments, where she patented a number of reagent laboratory tests. Learn about the rich and long history of ultrarunning. There are now eleven books available in the Ultrarunning History series on Amazon Learn More Early Running In 1970, Kiddy at age 30, and Fred, age 34, started to jog to lose weight, running about two miles a day. Fred used to run in his young days while in the service in Germany. After moving to Palm Springs in 1974, she started running with a more serious group of runners who ran 15 mile-runs. She recalled, "I don't remember how long it took us, but we were very excited to have done it. We just sat on the sofa looking at each other, because we were too stiff and sore to move. From that point on, we knew that, that was what we wanted to do." Eventually, her group got her interested in road racing. Her first race was in 1976 at the age of 40. She ran a couple short races where she broke course records. She next tackled the marathon because the shorter races seemed like a sprint. In her race registrations, she went by "Sandra" because people kept mistaking her name, "Sandy" as belonging to a man. "Three months after that first long run, I tried a marathon. I broke 3:30, which was quite thrilling. I found I didn't like the shorter races much, too much like a sprint, so we stuck primarily to the marathons, doing five or six a year." Kiddy almost always won among the runners age 40 and over, even including the men. In March 1978, she and Fred wrote into their local newspaper about a 10K with 700 runners that ran down Main Street in Palm Springs. "That your paper gave this event no coverage whatsoever is unforgivable and prompts the question as to what you consider newsworthy. May the curse of Pheidippides be on your circulation." Marathon Domination Fred Kiddy, in 1978 Kiddy started running multiple marathons a year. Her first of many wins came in 1978 at Lompro Record-Valley of Flowers Marathon with 3:02:36, running with Fred.  She and Fred trained together and frequently ran together in the races. In 1978, she won the National Masters Marathon with 2:56:45. Fred finished in 2:47. In 1979, she won the Orange County Marathon in 2:58, a new course record. She said, "The course went along a bike path along the Santa Ana River. There were 20-plus bridges you had to go up and under. I was in pretty good shape, but the bridges took their toll." In June 1979, Sandy got her picture in Sports Illustrated, in Faces in the Crowd. Not only was she winning marathons, but her competitive nature was also in the cards. Her name was in the newspaper many times doing well in Bridge tournaments. First Ultra Sandy Kiddy in 1979, after winning a 10.4 mile race in 1:06:03. Kiddy at age 42, burst on the scene of ultras when she ran in the Southern Pacific AAU 50K at Camarillo, California in 1979. She won and set a world record of 3:37:08,

By Davy Crockett  50 years ago, on August 3-4, 1974, Gordy Ainsleigh accomplished his legendary run on the Western States Trail in the California Sierra. It became the most famous run in modern ultrarunning history. Initially, it went unnoticed in the sport until several years later, when, with some genius marketing, it became the icon for running 100 miles in the mountains, the symbol for Western States 100, founded in 1977 by Wendell Robie. With Ainsleigh as the icon, Western States inspired thousands to also try running 100 miles in the mountains on trails. Let's celebrate this historic run's 50th anniversary. History Note: You were probably told Ainsleigh was the first to do this, but he was actually the 8th to cover the Western States Trail on foot during the Tevis Cup horse ride. Others were awarded the "first finishers on foot trophy" two years earlier, in 1972. Also, the sport of trail ultrarunning was not invented in 1974. It had existed for more than 100 years. There were at least eight trail ultras held worldwide in 1974, including a trail 100-miler in England. Previous to 1974, more than 1,200 people had run 100 miles in under 24 hours in races on roads, tracks, and trails, including some women. Learn about the rich and long history of the 100-miler. There are now three books that cover this history through 1979. Learn More The Early Years Harry Gordon Ainsleigh, from Meadow Vista, California, was born in Auburn, California in 1947. He grew up going by the name of Harry. He was the son of Frank Leroy Ainsleigh (1926-2007) who served in the Korea and Vietnam wars, in the Air Force. Frank and Bertha Gunhild (Areson) Ainsleigh (1918-2004) married while Frank was very young. The marriage didn’t work out, and they filed for divorce one month before Gordy was born. He was then raised by his mother (a nurse) and his Norwegian-born grandmother, Bertha Fidjeland Areson (1894-1984), who was also divorced. Frank Ainsleigh left the home, quickly remarried, and eventually settled in Florida where he raced stock cars and worked in a Sheriff’s office as maintenance supervisor over patrol cars. Bertha Ainsleigh remarried in 1952, when Gordy was five, to Walter Scheffel of Weimar, California. He was employed at a sanatorium. But Gordy’s family life continued to be in an uproar. They divorced less than a year later. Nevada City Gordy Ainsleigh spent his childhood years in Nevada City, California, about 30 miles north of Auburn. (This is the same town that seven decades earlier put on a 27-hour race in December 1882, won by Charles Harriman (1853-1919) with 117 miles.) Ainsleigh recalled his first long run as a child. "One day when I was in second grade. I came out on the playground with a bag lunch that Grandma had packed for me, and I just couldn't see anybody who would have lunch with me. I panicked. And I just felt like I couldn't breathe. And I just dropped my lunch, and I ran home for lunch." On another day, he missed the bus for school and didn't want to admit to his mother that he again missed it, so he just ran several miles to the school. He explained, "I came in a little late. The teacher knew where I lived. She asked, 'Why are you late?" I said, 'I missed the bus, so I ran to school." She was so impressed that she didn't punish him. By the age of fourteen, Ainsleigh started to get into trouble with the law, so his mother decided it was time to move out of town, back to the country. They moved back closer to Auburn, to a small farm near the hilly rural community of Meadow Vista. In junior high school, his gym teacher treated P.E. like a military boot camp with lots of pushups. He recalled, "I'd goof off and he'd make me run. I made sure I wore a real pained expression whenever he could see me. Actually, I was having a good time."  Living on a farm, he grew up among livestock animals, and in 1964 was given an award at a country fair for a sheep. High School, College,

By Davy Crockett For most elite ultrarunners, as they reach their mid-40s, their competitive years are mostly behind them. But for Ted Corbitt, his best years were still ahead of him, as he would become a national champion and set multiple American ultrarunning records. Read/Listen to Part 1 and Part 2 of Corbitt's amazing history as he became "The Father of American Ultrarunning." Perhaps Corbitt's most notable achievements in the sport of long-distance running was his groundbreaking work in course measurements. He said, “My initiating the accurate course measurement program in the USA is easily the most important thing that I did in the long-distance running scene.” He understood that “for the sport long-distance running to gain legitimacy, a system was needed to verify performances, records, and ensure that courses were consistently measured in the correct manner.” Learn about the rich and long history of ultrarunning. There are now ten books available in the Ultrarunning History series on Amazon Learn More Course Measurement Standards Obtaining accurate measurements for courses had been important for over 150 years. During the 19th century pedestrian era of ultrarunning, indoor tracks varied in length depending on the size of the arena. Professional surveyors and engineers were employed to measure the tracks down to the inch. This was important in six-day races as runners would circle the tracks thousands of times and massive wagers were made on how far runners would go. Mistakes were made at times. In October 1879, a couple weeks after the Fifth Astley Belt race held in Madison Square Garden, won by Charles Rowell (1852-1909) of England with 530 miles, the track was remeasured for another race and was discovered to be several feet short per lap which meant that Rowell actually instead covered 524 miles. The controversy resulted in a lawsuit because the error affected the distribution of enormous winnings earned by the runners. After that debacle, race managers were much more careful about certifying their tracks. In the 20th century, ultrarunning returned to road courses. With the introduction of the automobile, odometers were typically used. But those devices were rarely calibrated accurately as auto manufacturers liked to have them register more miles than actually traveled. Off-road course measurement was even more difficult. In 1959, a five-mile cross country course was used in the Bronx, New York. A careful remeasurement after the race discovered that the course was short by 490 yards. Another important example: As the famed Western States Trail was used by the horse endurance race, The Tevis Cup, in the 1950s, 1960s, and 1970s, and for the early years of the Western States 100 foot race, it later was discovered in the 1980s the course was not even close to 100 miles, it was no more than 89 miles, more than 10% short. It wasn’t initially a 100-mile race. John Jewell As Corbitt went to England in the early 1960s to compete in London to Brighton, he became acquainted with John Jewell (1912-2001), a founding member of the Road Runners Club in England. In 1961, Jewell wrote a paper describing the process of road race course measurement in England. He refined a method of using calibrated bicycle wheels for measurement. Jewell measured the London to Brighton course that Corbitt competed on. Corbitt was convinced that a method of accurate course measurement was needed for America’s long-distance races. He pointed out, “The U.S. has sent marathoners and walkers to the Olympic Games who thought they were in a certain time range, but who in reality were several minutes slower on full length courses. This is unnecessary since it is possible to measure courses accurately." He exported many of Jewell’s ideas, did his own research, and published a historic 29-page booklet in 1964, “Measuring Road Running Courses.” He evaluated all the typical methods of measuring courses and concluded ...