Michael Beloff

For Roger Bannister, the four-minute mile was just the start

A review of Twin Tracks, by Roger Bannister. Bannister's two brilliant careers, medical and athletic, both show the power of mind over matter

Roger Bannister winning the AAA Championships Mile race, 1954 Photo: Getty

Already a subscriber? Log in

This article is for subscribers only

Subscribe today to get 3 months' delivery of the magazine, as well as online and app access, for only £3.

  • Weekly delivery of the magazine
  • Unlimited access to our website and app
  • Enjoy Spectator newsletters and podcasts
  • Explore our online archive, going back to 1828

Although the former lasted barely a decade and the latter more than half a century, almost a third of Twin Tracks is, perhaps inevitably, taken up with running, and the story of overcoming what was at the time thought to be an insuperable physical barrier. This was through the combined efforts of the three musketeers of British middle distance in the 1950s: the two Chrises — Chataway and Brasher — and Bannister himself, all collaborators in this exceptional time-trial and friends for life.

Before Bannister’s annus mirabilis of 1954, which also included gold medals at both the Commonwealth and European championships, armchair commentators had blamed his training methods for his inability to fulfil his destiny as favourite for the 1,500 metres at the Olympic Games in Helsinki. (He was in fact the victim of an unprecedented timetable which required three races on three successive days — too much for a graduate still in the middle of his medical studies.)

Aficionados of the counterfactual can note that had Bannister been an Olympic champion he would then and there have retired from the track as a member of a select club — but not, as he always will be, a member of a club of one. For his life, if not actually defined by the 3 minutes 59.4 seconds spent traversing the four laps of the track at Iffley Road, was undoubtedly enlarged by it. This feat opened up other opportunities beyond his distinguished career as a neurologist: as the first independent chairman of the Sports Council; as president of the International Council of Sport and Physical Education; as a trustee of Leeds Castle; and finally as master of Pembroke college, Oxford. His qualifications for all these varied posts, whose functions are clearly and methodically described, were enhanced by the global recognition of his achievement — as photographs of the author in the company of princes, presidents and prime ministers attest.

There are some insignificant factual errors in this book — several about athletics, which remind one that this was in truth only a small part of Sir Roger’s activities. He emerges from its pages as the sanest of men in the healthiest of bodies (until a serious midlife road accident), anchored in his happy marriage (to an artist).

Bannister is a cautious optimist, especially about medicine’s contribution to society, and dedicated to the worthy causes of drug-free sport and a fitter community. In short, he is a hero for our times and — before the term was irredeemably vulgarised — a national treasure.

Available from the Spectator Bookshop, £16. Tel: 08430 600033

Comments

Join the debate for just $5 for 3 months

Be part of the conversation with other Spectator readers by getting your first three months for $5.

Already a subscriber? Log in