In 1928 two extraordinary Englishmen competed in an unprecedented event - a transcontinental road race across America that required them to run an average of 40 miles for 80 consecutive days.
Despite being separated by class, education and age, Peter Gavuzzi and Arthur Newton became close friends and formed a successful business partnership as endurance athletes. They raced in 500-mile relays, in 24-hour events, in snowshoes and against horses; and they became the stars of a craze for endurance events that swept across depression-era North America and the most famous long-distance runners in the world.
However, history has forgotten these two men, and in Running for Their Lives - in a story peopled with remarkable characters, unimaginable feats and tragic twists of fate - they only now receive the recognition they so richly deserve.
Mark Whitaker is the author of the critically acclaimed memoir, My Long Trip Home. The former managing editor of CNN Worldwide, he was previously the Washington bureau chief for NBC News and a reporter and editor at Newsweek, where he rose to become the first African-American leader of a national newsweekly.
This is a book for the heart as much as the head. When I finished reading it, alone late on a Sunday morning, I stood up from my breakfast coffee and applauded loudly with delight and respect for the author's achievements. Oddly, too, there seemed to be something damp around my eyes. If I had seven heads wearing different hats I would, in succession, respectfully sweep off each one with a flourish and bow.
Like its two remarkable human subjects -- long distance runners from before the Depression of 1929 who considered a marathon but a meagre prelude to more solidly challenging efforts like 50 or even over a 1000 miles -- this is a monumentally dogged work of devotional research and human love (warts and all). Newton and Gavuzzi were so way ahead of their time as to have become almost invisible outside the narrow bandwidth of their specialty. These two unordinary ordinary chaps were, in their heyday, as much prized as foot-slogging bunioneers as were the more gloriously elevated high-status mountaineers like Mallory of a slightly earlier time. Unlike him, they scrimped through rather boring, lonely - even miserable - swansongs of little heroic lustre aside from hard-headed endurance.
Anyone keen to become a serious non-fiction writer can do no better than reflect on the amount of solid work Mark Whitaker put in over ten years to bring us us this extraordinarily rich book. Bravo, Bravo and Bravo again!
Too many runners associate the beginning of ultramarathons with Gordon Ainsleigh’s completion of the Western States 100 mile trail ride on foot in 1974. Gordon’s accomplishment was amazing, but it took place 50 years after the Arthur Newton broke the 100-mile record on the Bath to London road, finishing the run in a time of 14 hours and 22 minutes.
Newton was the premier ultrarunner of the early 20th century. He won the Comrades Marathon (a 56-mile ultramarathon) 5 times. He now had the 100-mile record. Next up, the Bunion Derby – a transcontinental race across the United States, from Los Angeles to New York. There, he met another Englishman who would become his friend for life, Peter Gavuzzi.
Running for Their Lives is an enjoyable description of the challenges these two men faced as they attempted to make a living as professional runners. Their exploits would cross countries and continents. Newton and Gavuzzi would achieve amazing successes, and despairing failures.
In 1928 the first of the so-called Trans-Continental Road Races was held, starting in Los Angeles and finishing in New York.
Taking part were Arthur Newton and Peter Gavuzzi, whose largely forgotten life stories Mark Whitaker explores in fascinating detail. Newton and Gavuzzi, both Englishmen, came from very different backgrounds, yet through their running experiences forged a lifelong friendship. His book also covers the reasons they fell into obscurity, which is largely due to the clash of amateurism and professionalism with the governing body refusing to countenance giving either man a coaching role. Whitaker ably explores what drove them on in their endeavors which is, as he convincingly argues, feeling ‘fully alive when running, ideally alone, over very great distances’.
Not quite what I was expecting - not so much about running, but about two very interesting chaps, both of whom I could relate to a little from my own background. A good biography rather than a book about running, but good all the same. Lost it a little bit the last few chapters and the dealings with the AAA but the rest kept me pretty engaged. If you're after a 'What I Talk About When I Talk About Running' than this isn't really for you. This is a good biography about two forgotten legends of the sport.
It was an extraordinary story, and one I didn't know jack about. The prejudices of the time came off the page at me. The double life stories are well intertwined by the author. Unfortunately, it had a sort of sad tone rather than being particularly uplifting. But an example of a book about 'unknowns' that reads better than many better known athletes biographies.