A SPARTAN LIFE

Sun (Auckland), Volume 1, Issue 91, 8 July 1927, Page 7

A SPARTAN LIFE

WORLD’S CHAMPION SPRINTER HOW.TIM BANNER TRAINS HAS RUN 9 1-4 YARDS UNDER “EVENS”

Valicare! Heroic! Fujisan! Top Gallant! Tim Banner! Five of the fastest sprinters in Australia —four horses, one man. None of the horses was ever looked after more zealously by their trainers than is Tim Banner, world’s speediest professional runner, by his mentor, Ernie Goode, says a writer in the Sydney “Sun.” He practically lives in cotton wool—every moment of his day according to schedule, every moment practically timed to rules. For Tim Banner’s profession—his complete business —is foot running. And to make money as a runner he must always be at his best. There must be no question of defeat. With defeat his powers as a drawing card would diminish. Banner proved at the Sydney Cricket Ground recently that his reputation, won in almost world-wide competition, was deserved. This Sydney-born piece of perfectly co-ordinated machinery— Gardener’s Road, Mascot, was his birthplace—moves rapidly through Australia, and has never been out of training for three years. Perhaps nobody in the Commonwealth has to practice such self-restraint. NEITHER SMOKES NOR DRINKS “Clean-living” is the key-note of his existence. Verging on 24 years of age, Banner neither smokes nor drinks. Even tea is banned. He knows not the gay week-end parties. Amusement of every kind he almost shuns. Yet with it all he is happy. Big dancing blue eyes and a perennial smile tell the world that he is at peace with it. Perfect condition induces this happiness and contentment, allied to his love of his profession, the joy ana thrill of the race. A career demanding such sacrificeswill no doubt, be regarded by some as too hard, and too exacting. But it has its compensations. Long after the t dinary city man has ceased shivering after his cold shower Banner is curled up, having the last few winks that are the most satisfying of all sleep. Nearly every night at 9.30 o’clock Banner is snugly in his bed. He does not rise until eight next morning, at the earliest. From his bed he goes straight to a grilled steak, avoiding his bath for a reason which will be told later. At 10 a.m. he is on the track, either sprinting or trotting, according to the. period of his training. Banner does not study diet.*. Any wholesome food is appreciated by him. Often he is in bush hotels where he considers himself lucky to get a good square meal, let alone being able to pick and choose. FIFTEEN HOURS’ REST One hour after lunch Banner is in bed again. There he remains until 4 o’clock, when there is more training. Further rest follows for an hour before dinner. Indeed, Banner spends nearly 15 hours of the day resting! “Laziness,” you say! No, it is not laziness. Rest, he believes, is absolutely essential if he is to retain his title of the world’s speediest pedestrian. That is where, in the language of the athlete, he “finds his running.” Rest and massage are the great restoratives of energy expended in training. Without it an athlete can never hope to be a Tim Banner. Other great professionals, such as Arthur Postle and Jack Donaldson, knew the secret and practised it. Amateurs with city avocations cannot. The luxury of rest is only for those who make foot-running a business.

At infrequent intervals—the eve of an important race, for instance —Banner seeks the mental relaxation of amusement. But even the entertainment must be carefully selected. “Hamlet” and “The Silver King” would depress him and undo all the good work of training. Charlie Chaplin and Harry Langdon are Tim’s ideals. A good laugh puts him right for another long spell of disciplinary routine. AVOIDS COLD SHOWER

Baths are enervating, says Banner, and nothing is avoided more than the morning cold shower. One bath a week is sufficient! Then it must be a hot tub with soda. Almost invariably it is taken at 3 o’clock in the afternoon, and he goes to bed until S o’clock the next morning. No risks are taken. If a cold was caught Banner’s condition would be affected for weeks. A cold bath is taboo because it would be liable to contract the muscles of his legs. Those symmetrically modelled limbs must always be kept supple. Good health and constant massage and the liberal use of pure olive oil and eucalyptus ensure that. Suppleness of muscles and sinews is the dominant requirement in Banner’s business. Banner says that the routine never bothers him. He never becomes stale. This he attributes to the constant change of scenery and new faces. When compelled to stay in a town for a few weeks he does begin to feel the strain, and that is when a comedy picture comes to the rescue. It will be seen therefore that there is something exacting about the daily life of the man who at Wangaratta was able to run 130yds in nine and a-quarter yards inside even time, and repeat the performance at Swan Hill, and at the famous Shorefield Park, Glasgow, last year, twice fly over • 100yds in three yards “better than evens,” and win the world’s championship. “Even time,” it might be mentioned for the uninitiated, is 10yds a second. ABLE TO RUN ANYWHERE That Banner is at home everywhere is proved by the fact that this year at Yarram (Vic.) he equalled his Glasgow time, and on April 23 he broke the record for 110yds at Warracknabeal, in the Mallee country of Victoria, by getting over the distance in 10 5-Bsec, beating Jack Donaldson’s time of 10 4-5. Banner is a dapper little chap, sft 6in high, weighs 11 stone, and takes a five in shoes. Already he is booked well into next year, and has received a retainer of £so—not much perhaps compared with a pugilist’s purse—to appear at the Melbourne Motordrome in 1928, in a £I,OOO handicap, and a world’s championship carrying prize money of £250. Everything associated with Banner’s running is on lines of business and study. Attention to training naturally comes first. The pottering about in the early days of training, the gradual working up to the point where sprinting is advisable, is all the result of study. Anything that will help to add an inch to his more rapid progress to the worsted is taken into calculation. The depth of the “holes” out of which he leaps like a flash at the crack of the gun are measured —a fraction of an inch too deep might mean the losing of a race. The balance of the feet and the hands must synchronise—it must be perfect and as easy as sitting in an armchair.

By these means: clean living, rest, and a scientific absorption of methods, has Tim Banner come to be recognised as the world's best sprinter. He does his running on the track, but really he wins his races in bed.