Ultrarunning History

By: Davy Crockett
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  • Summary

  • Podcast about the history of ultrarunning. An ultramarathon is a running race of 50K (31 miles) or more, up to 3,100 miles. This extreme running sport came into existence during the late 1800s.
    2022
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Running & Jogging World
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Episodes
  • 170: Old Sport Campana (1836-1906) – Part Three

    170: Old Sport Campana (1836-1906) – Part Three
    Jan 30 2025
    By Davy Crockett 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.” Edward Payson Weston The first pedestrian who tried to entertain people, and at times play the role of the clown as he walked for days, was the six-day pioneer, Edward Payson Weston, of Connecticut. During the early 1870s, he started his walks in a velvet suit and frequently interacted with the crowd to get attention. At times, he would try to win applause and create excitement by walking backwards, running, jumping and performing many playful tricks to show how much energy he still had. But after a few years, he was not viewed as being endearing to the working class who came to the races in New York City. He gained a pompous and arrogant reputation and was called a humbug. One reporter wrote, “There are two things that we are opposed to, skunks and Weston, the walkist." Campana came along four years later and received a totally different reaction. He clowned around like Weston did years earlier, but because he looked so old, people pitied him and did not overly criticize much of his outrageous behavior. Campana was seen as a destitute street vendor, while Weston was an ultra-rich aristocrat who lived in the finest hotels, spent money freely, and hobnobbed with the rich and famous. The working class identified more with Campana, who always returned to his street vending cart, and he became far more popular than Weston. Campana's 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,
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    28 mins
  • 169: Old Sport Campana (1836-1906) – Part Two

    169: Old Sport Campana (1836-1906) – Part Two
    Jan 16 2025
    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
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    28 mins
  • 168: Old Sport Campana (1836-1906) – Part One

    168: Old Sport Campana (1836-1906) – Part One
    Jan 3 2025
    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 September 17, 1836, in Petersburg, Virginia. 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 Jane (Dalton) Campana (1840-) and had a son Napoleon Campana (1861-1862) who died as a young child. 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. I took after a Confederate soldier who had got separat...
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    27 mins

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