Life on the Run

by Stan Eldon

  I had great support from my colleagues while I was in the police. They generously swopped duties with me, to enable me to get to as many races as possible, but I did work my six days a week like the rest. Yes it was six days a week; our official working week was five days, but it was compulsory to work the sixth day as what was called EDP (Extra Duties Performed). This extra day did put more money in the pay packet, but did not give much time for outside activities. Many of my races were run between shifts, an early turn from 6 a.m. to 2 p.m. one day, and then a night shift the next day from 10 p.m. to 6 a.m. I had to catch up on sleep somehow, and I found various ways of grabbing a short nap when I was on nights. I developed a way of propping myself up in a telephone box and going to sleep leaning on the telephone shelf and sort of wedged in the box with knees bent.

  While I was living in my first police house, I had my first of many postmortems. I had always joked with Marion that the day I had one she would give me hearts, kidneys or liver for lunch; and that is exactly what happened. I was only told on the morning and the PM was going to be in the afternoon at the Royal Berkshire Hospital, only a short distance from home. I went home for lunch and Marion had prepared something I was very fond of, liver. I ate it and enjoyed it before making the short journey to the mortuary, where I found myself, not just watching, but weighing out human liver and organs. It did not put me off and I attended many more, especially as I had a sergeant who could not face up to this part of police work.

  There were some characters around in my early days in the police and I think I learned a lot from them. I remember one detective constable in particular who was an expert at interrogation, and I could never understand why he was still at the bottom of the ladder, after well over twenty years of service before gaining a promotion, although in his last five years or so he did rise very rapidly to superintendent. I suppose it was partly looking at him that made me leave the constabulary after a few years. I would not have wanted to wait that long for promotion. He, like many of my other colleagues, did a very good job, and they knew that their job was catching the villains. They more or less did it by the book, but they could not have survived in the modern service with all the politics of the job.

  While I was at Woodley, I had a sergeant who drank too much and was frequently inebriated on duty in the evening and especially at night. One night we had an emergency call; someone was breaking into a factory, and he wanted to drive the police vehicle to the incident. I flatly refused to let him drive and took over the driving. I suppose it was insubordination but he never mentioned the incident again.

  During my service, I did act as a court usher on quite a few occasions, and one of the interesting aspects of this job was shutting the jury away and having to stay outside the door where they were deliberating and hearing their discussions. Later as a civilian I did act as chairman on a jury and so saw the job from both sides. I must admit that in neither case did it inspire me with great confidence about the legal system. I remember one comment from a juror in particular. While others tried to be fair, this chap said “I know he is guilty. I know the family and they are all a bad lot.” Maybe it was true and it certainly persuaded the jury on that occasion, as a swift guilty verdict was brought in.

  Because of my athletics, I frequently had the press knocking at the door, and they loved to take pictures of me next to the road sign ‘Eldon Road’. After a year living in Eldon Road, I was given a new police house that had just been built at Earley. There were many photographs and articles written about me and Eldon Road. One of them that did cause a stir, was a photo of me running along the road with my black Labrador Simon, who was only about eighteen months old and full of energy. When I came back from a training run, he would be waiting at the door making sure that I took him for a run around the block. The photograph shows me doing just that, and it appeared in the Sunday Express. The next day the RSPCA came to see me because some idiot had seen this picture and thought it was cruel to the dog. Fortunately the RSPCA senior inspector that came, saw how stupid the complaint was and that was the end of it. I wonder what that crank would have thought about dogs running all the way with their owners in half marathons today? It was another incident that showed me just how careful you have to be if you are a celebrity that is always in the news.

  We moved from Eldon Road to Falstaff Avenue in Earley, and it was while I was living there that I learnt to drive. I had a couple of drives with a police colleague in my old ex-headmaster’s Austin, and also five lessons with the British School of Motoring. A photograph appeared in some papers of me in the BSM car. Today I would probably have been paid for such a promotion, but I actually had to pay them for the lessons. Within a couple of weeks, I had passed my test and shocked one of my neighbours. A lady opposite knew I was learning to drive, she had had several attempts herself, and when I returned home the day I passed the test, I went out in the car to take part in an ‘Any Questions’ at a community club at Cholsey in South Oxfordshire, about eighteen mile away. I remember that night as there was heavy snow and I had never driven in conditions like that before, and had never driven on my own. My neighbour thought I had just taken a chance, as she could not believe I had passed my test so quickly.

  Within a couple of weeks I took another test, the police driving test, a little tougher but I passed so that I could then drive general police vehicles.

  One unusual happening around this time, was that Marion had to go to Reading Borough Police Station to be interviewed regarding the A6 murder. I don’t think she was a suspect but she had worked with all the parties involved.

  Whilst living at Earley, I used to have some company on night shifts. Depending on where I was supposed to be patrolling on my bicycle, I would go home in the early hours of the morning and collect my dog Simon so that he could ‘assist’ me while checking properties on my patch. He was great company but would not have made a very brave police dog. On several occasions I sent him round the back of garages and the like, while I would go around the opposite way. He would dash round the back of the property and as we met up he would come and sit by me still shaking from the fright of seeing my torch and thinking I was a villain. With no radio and no communication with anybody during the night, it was comforting to have him around and he enjoyed the exercise trotting along by the side of my bike.

  Several times during this period, I would be the escort for prisoners being taken to Oxford Prison. They were normally only taken one at a time in the police station’s small van. There would be just a driver and myself, but I never handcuffed my charges and we would stop off at a transport cafe on the way to the prison so that the prisoner could have his last free meal for a while, and we could have some refreshment as well. I never lost a prisoner or had any trouble with them. Before we set out from Woodley, I would introduce myself and most of them knew very well about my running ability, so I would warn them that if they took off I would always catch them. There was another reason we did not have trouble, whatever the criminal had done to get sent down. In those days there was a relationship between police and the public and that included the criminal element. There was a certain respect for the uniform, and I suppose the attitude of most of the criminal fraternity was “fair cop guv”, and they got on with their sentence.

  I remember a couple of occasions that proved this point, and which also shows the difference between then and now. One of these was when I was alone late at night and I had to confront three or four yobs. During my ‘debate’ with them, one pulled out a knife and threatened me. I told him not to be so stupid and to put the thing away. He stared at me and then decided that it was good advice. It all settled down and that was that. Another incident was when I was called to a caravan after someone reported hearing a shotgun being fired. I went to the caravan and picked up one or two discharged cartridges as I approached. I knocked on the door and this chap opened the door holding the still smoking gun. He started off being aggressive with something like �
��Do you want some too?” I told him to put the bl... thing down and don’t be silly. He did and we went and had a chat and I discovered that he had fired the gun outside at his stepdaughter who lived with him, his wife and children. There was a cosy family arrangement where the two women slept in turn with the man, and on this particular night the stepdaughter, who was about sixteen, did not want to know. After reporting the incident to my inspector the next day, I was told to go and see his employer and see what sort of man he was. I did and he was very good at his job of delivering coal, and his boss did not want to lose him. The end result; he was warned about his future conduct and that was that.

  My father in the First World War had also been an escort for prisoners, but this was much more serious. He told the story about one particular prisoner he had to take, I think it was from London to Edinburgh, but it may have been in the opposite direction. This man had been arrested as a German spy and was being taken to his execution. He was apparently a German baron and very wealthy, and my father was offered many inducements to let him escape, but he did not succumb and the sentence was carried out. I was never put in that very difficult position while carrying out my duties.

  The year of 1958 started quite well; my training had gone well and I was clocking up the miles. In 1956 my total miles run were 2,437; in 1957 that had increased to 2,655 and in 1958, I passed the 3,000 mark with 3,061 miles. The first week in January, I started to up my training levels after a quiet time before Christmas. I always eased off the training between the end of the track season, in about October, until early January. The first full week of the new year, I clocked up eighty-five miles, running twice a day on four of the seven days, and finishing the week with a good win in a six mile cross-country race. The following week I dropped back to seventy-one miles, although this did include some hard days in the early part of the week, running up to sixteen miles a day. This was the week of the Inter Counties where I finished tenth, the only race I did not win that winter. After that ‘failure’ it was back to hard training, and the next week I was back up to eighty-six miles and all my training was in the morning, so I must have been working the 2 p.m. to 10 p.m. shift. This was followed by weeks of 102 miles and 100 miles.

  The 102 mile week was made up as follows:-

  Sunday-5 miles on road in afternoon.

  Monday - 12 miles on road in evening, fairly fast pace with some sprints.

  Tuesday-total 20 miles, 7 miles on road in morning, 7 miles fast running in 34 minutes in evening, followed by 6 miles fast and slow.

  Wednesday-total 20 miles, 7 miles in morning in 38 minutes, 7 miles in evening in 37 minutes, followed by 6 miles interval running. Weight Training.

  Thursday-total 20 miles, 7 miles in morning in 39 minutes, 7 miles in evening in 40 minutes, followed by 6 miles interval running. Weight Training.

  Friday-total 12 miles, 8 miles in morning, 5 laps around Palmer Park, with 4 miles on road in evening.

  Saturday-total 13 miles, 6 mile race which I won in 29:50, but I ran three laps in 46.05 and did other training.

  The training the following week was identical, with another race win at the end of the week.

  I then dropped back to seventy miles in the week of the Southern Counties Championships at Parliament Hill, although the mileage was down, I still trained very hard, and had a good session of eleven miles as close as on the Thursday. I ran away from the field early in the race, and went on to record a great win; there were some great runners in that field, including Gordon Pirie and Frank Sando. My time was 49:50 for the 9 miles 100 yards, heavy and as usual very muddy, course. On the Parliament Hill course with the mud and hills, once you broke away from the field, it was comparatively easy to keep the other runners behind you. While you were running fast downhill, they would be running much slower up the other side.

  I was then confident that I could win the National, and training went back up to 100 miles a week, before easing back the week before the big race. As always the National Championships were in March, and these were held at Birkenhead. So as to be there in plenty of time, and so that I could be prepared properly for the nine mile race, Marion and I went up to Manchester a couple of days earlier and stayed with her aunt. What should have been another triumph for me turned into a disaster.

  Chapter Seven: From Disaster to Triumph

  We had to make our way from Manchester to the venue at Stoke Park, Birkenhead, and after staying in bed longer than we should, we left Manchester for the race and thought we had plenty of time, but problem followed problem; partly because I had misunderstood the start time, and not least of all because when we took a taxi for the last part of the journey the driver did not know his area, and we arrived at the start when the runners had run their first few hundred yards. Bitterly disappointed I did not know what to do, so I watched the race and saw Alan Perkins (Ilford AC) win the 1958 National Cross-Country title. I had beaten him very easily in the Southern a few weeks earlier. I explained my predicament to the officials after the race, before they did the traditional thing of selecting the first nine athletes for the International Championships to be held that year in Cardiff. When the team was announced at the prize giving I waited, not really expecting to be selected, as the rules had always been very strict about selection. The team was announced and they put me in the list. There were mixed reactions from other runners; congratulations from some and not very happy comments from those who had been pushed further down the list by my inclusion. I knew there was only one thing I could do to make up for their disappointment, and that was to make sure that I went to Cardiff and run my legs off for a top place.

  There were only a couple of weeks, but I trained hard for another ten days, including another week of the magic 100 miles. During this time I won two more races, including the Police National on the Thursday before the big day. The Police Championship on this occasion was close to home. As a result of my winning in 1957, the Berkshire Constabulary had the task of organising the event, and it was staged at the Royal Military Academy at Sandhurst. My winning time was a new Championship best of 30:37.4, although to this day I do not know how they could talk about records when every course was different and certainly not measured with any accuracy. I treated the race as a serious training run and I had a very comfortable win, which was just as well, as just twenty-four hours later, on the Friday, I was at Cardiff for the biggest race of my life.

  After we had all met up, we went for a light run around the course with the rest of the team. It was a flat, fast course but to my horror there were around thirty hurdle-type fences to be jumped in the three laps. I was not alone, and some of my team mates were talking about running a little further and going around the obstacles rather than trying to jump them.

  The Saturday came and it was very cold, but the cold never worried me, it was the heat that caused me problems, although I did wear gloves on this occasion. The favourite for the race was Alain Mimoun from France, a great athlete, even if a little eccentric, who had beaten me in that first international race at the White City. He was so fussy about his food that he had insisted on going into the kitchens at the hotel and helping to prepare his own food. He was now thirty-five years of age, but had won silver medals in the 1952 Olympics, and was the Gold Medal winner in the Olympic Marathon of 1956. He also had a great incentive to win the race, as no one had ever won four titles in a row, and this was his fourth title chance. I did what I always did, I went out at the front, not worrying about the opposition, but at every obstacle Mimoun got ahead of me; he was so fast over the fences, but as soon as he knew I was over a fence he would slow and wave me to the front again. This was repeated many times and I thought ‘He thinks he can outsprint me at the finish.’ As we neared the end, I kept up the pressure and we turned towards the finish, running stride by stride. I seem to remember he passed me and made his strike for home, but I was ready and I started my finishing dash for the line. I always could muster a s
trong finish however tired I was, and I was not going to lose now. My final kick took me ahead and I crossed the line around thirty yards ahead of the great runner. My winning time was 46:29 for the nine miles, and with all the obstacles this was a pretty good time.

  I had done it and rewarded those who had kept faith with me by putting me in the team. The England team ran away with the team prize, packing all six in the first ten places. Our captain Frank Sando was third and he was the opposite to me, he did suffer from the cold and was the first athlete I knew to wear tights or track trousers in races to keep his legs warm.

  The excited commentator that day, was the well-known Welshman Bernard Baldwin. As soon as he could after the race, he rushed up to me and invited me to run in his special New Year’s Eve run; the Nos Galan in Mountain Ash. I agreed and over the next forty years I was to return about thirty times to be part of that very special event on New Year’s Eve, where I always received great hospitality from the families that put me up and looked after me each year.

  Fresh from my first major win, I ran at Cranford in the Thames Valley Harriers Road Relay the following Saturday, and recorded 22:19 for the fastest lap of the 4 miles 1,500 yards circuit, which took twelve seconds off my record time the previous year.

  In those days it was traditional to run on the road between cross-country and track seasons, and I had a number of road races over the next few weeks. The first week in April, I started my speed training to get ready for the track season, and these included sessions with groups of 220 yards in 28 to 32 seconds and 440 yards in 63 seconds upwards.

  The one race I should have won, but didn’t, was the Maidenhead ten miles on Easter Monday, 7th April. It was a race over two laps and the actual distance was 10 miles 700 yards. A very good road runner, Tony Redrup of Wycombe Phoenix Harriers, was the surprise winner and I was second in 50:52, after a race where we had never been separated by more than a few yards. It brought me down to earth with a bump and it was back to the drawing board. Club track races followed in April, where I won an assortment of distances from 880 yards to three miles.