Running News Daily

At the end of ABC television’s coverage of the 1984 New York City Marathon, there’s a shot of Orlando Pizzolato sitting on a bench in Central Park, retying his well-worn footwear. “Those shoes may have had it,” remarked anchorman Jim McKay.

Not quite. Some 39 years on, the shoes that took the unheralded Italian to the biggest upset victory in the history of the Big Apple’s big race have been generously donated to the ever-expanding Heritage Collection in the Museum of World Athletics (MOWA).

Whatever unfolds in the 2023 edition of the New York City Marathon this weekend, there’s unlikely to be anything as dramatic as the battle of attrition from which the plucky Pizzolato emerged as the unlikely hero in 1984.

As the Italian and the rest of the 18,000 field assembled for the start, it was difficult to pick out the contours of the Verrazano-Narrows Bridge. Such was the heat haze that had descended upon the Big Apple on the last Sunday in October that year.

“The weather is going to be a huge factor,” proclaimed Marty Liquori, the great US miler, working as the expert summarizer on the men’s race for ABC Sports. “We’re looking at the hottest and most humid New York Marathon ever.”

The mercury was already pushing 70°F and the humidity was close to maximum.

“That causes two things to happen at the front of the pack,” continued Liquori, runner up to Miruts Yifter in the 5000m at the inaugural World Cup in Dusseldorf in 1977. “The natural front runners get conservative, so the pack stays tighter. The second thing is the hotter it gets, the greater chance there is for an upset.”

“Yes, look out for the man you do not know in this marathon,” predicted McKay, the distinguished Voice of ABC’s Wide World of Sports.

“This man could be for real”

Not a lot of people were looking out for the runner bearing race number 100, clad in the colors of his homeland – blue and white singlet, red shorts.

Pizzolato, a 26-year-old representing the University of Ferrara sports club from the north of Italy, was no Ferrari of a marathoner.

In seven attempts at the classic 26.2-mile distance, he boasted a best of 2:15:28 - more than seven minutes slower than the world record figures of 2:08:05 set by Welshman Steve Jones in Chicago a week before the 1984 New York race.

Pizzolato’s PB came in New York in 1983, the year Rod Dixon made up a half-mile deficit to overhaul Briton Geoff Smith virtually on the finish line in Central Park. The New Zealander’s winning time was 2:08:59. He finished 6min 29sec and 26 places ahead of Pizzolato.

Twelve months later, Dixon, the Olympic 1500m bronze medalist behind Finn Pekka Vasala and the trailblazing Kenyan Kip Keino in Munich in 1972, returned to New York as favorite for the men’s title – and the $25,000 prize and Mercedes Benz that went with it in that first year of open professional running.

“I’m a lot more confident in my own mind, having run successfully in ’83,” he told Liquori in a pre-race interview. “I think I’m rightly the favorite. I’ve trained well and I’ve got confidence in my own ability. I’ll go out and if I strike it right, they won’t catch me.”

Five miles in, given the exceptional conditions, Liquori and four-time winner Bill Rodgers, following the men’s race from ABC’s on-course buggy, felt Dixon was striking it right – 18 seconds down on home runners Pat Petersen and Terry Baker in a pack that included two-time Commonwealth gold medallist Gidamis Shahanga of Tanzania.

Pizzolato was also among the chasing group, seemingly unknown to any of the experts. His first name check came as he overtook Jose Gomez of Mexico to claim pole position, shortly before reaching halfway in 65:03.

“Could this, Marty, be the man they did not know?” McKay enquired.

“This man could be for real,” Liquori replied. “In the hotel I saw Franco Fava, a great steeplechaser from Italy, and he mentioned that it has been so hot in Italy this summer and fall. So, this is one person who is accustomed to the heat.”

Rodgers was not quite so sure. “I think it’s still anybody’s race,” he said. “The guy from Italy looks good. But we’ll have to see later in the race.”

“The Pope, Reagan and then it was me”

The guy from northern Italy was certainly looking good.

While Dixon seemed ill at ease, struggling to cope with the pace and the conditions some 1:15 behind, Pizzolato appeared to be feeling groovy as he crossed the Queensboro Bridge, the subject of Simon and Garfunkel’s 59th Street Bridge Song.

“Orlando looks very good,” Liquori observed. “He looks to have a style that’s fitting for a marathoner. When you’re looking around, taking in the scenery, you know that the running is coming easy.

“One thing should be pointed out. Steve Jones, who set the world record last week, was a very well-established track runner. He was eighth in the 10,000m at the Olympic Games.

“But Orlando has run a minute slower for 10,000m: 28:22. Were he to win this, it would be just about the biggest upset in a major marathon that I’ve seen.”

By the 20th mile mark, it was clear that Pizzolato himself was somewhat upset. The temperature had risen to 74 degrees and the humidity to 96%. His pace slowed to a 5:26 mile.

Briton Dave Murphy was gathering momentum, moving up into second, and Dixon into third.

“Well, I think we’re entering the last chapter of Orlando,” ventured Liquori. “I think I might have got too excited at 18 miles. Maybe it was the Italian in me.”

Soon after, Pizzolato grabbed his chest and slowed to a temporary halt. Three times he stopped, then started up again. “This man is in trouble,” said McKay.

Entering Central Park, with less than three miles to go, Pizzolato stopped for a fourth time. He clutched his chest, glugged half a cup of water and poured the other half over his head.

Dixon was out of the equation at this point, having stepped off the course suffering from cramps. But Murphy had closed to within 15 seconds.

“It’s like the tortoise and the hare,” said Liquori. “Pizzolato’s running-stopping, running-stopping. Murphy is just taking a steady course. It looks like it’s his race.

“For Pizzolato now, the drama now is how much of his soul he’s going to lay down.”

Thrice more, Pizzolato stopped and started, each time taking on fluid and calmly checking out the gap behind him. Somehow, he managed to lay down enough of his soul to bridge over his troubled water.

The finished line approached with Murphy not yet in sight.

“He has pulled it off,” Liquori pronounced. “He has mentally been able to fight through his form having gone to pieces, through having had so many problems.”

“It was very hot,” said Pizzolato, who crossed the line in 2:14:53, 43 sec ahead of Murphy. “I had cramp in my stomach. It was very terrible, but I am very happy.”

The New York Times the next day concentrated on Grete Waitz’s sixth success in the women’s section, praising Pizzolato in passing for having overcome the heat and the late challenge of Murphy in “a men’s competition that the stifling heat and humidity reduced to a battle of attrition.”

Back home in Italy, the reaction was different. “The first story in the news was the Pope,” Pizzolato reported, “then Ronald Reagan’s election. Then it was me.”

Retained title

Twelve months later, the guy from Italy returned to New York and proved he was no flash in the marathon pan.

This time he was the tortoise, running his steady race while Geoff Smith burned himself out at world record pace, then overtaking Djibouti’s World Cup Marathon winner Ahmad Saleh two miles from home to become the Big Apple’s first overseas two-time winner, clocking 2:11:34.

“Last year I won by mistake, probably,” Pizzolato told The New York Times. “This year was more exciting. I was not in confusion in the last 365 yards.

“All the people seemed to know my name and my number. It was like everyone was a friend of mine. It was a great source of power.”

In an era when the fast men of the track came to dominate the men’s marathon – with the likes of Jones, Dixon and Carlos Lopes, the Portuguese runner who won the Olympic title in Los Angeles in 1984 and succeeded Jones as world record-holder in 1985 – Pizzolato was a great source of power and inspiration to the traditional specialists of the event.

He never broke 2:10. His fastest time was 2:10:23, which he recorded while placing sixth in the World Cup Marathon in Hiroshima in 1985. The following year Pizzolato was third in Boston (2:11:43), then overtook a shattered Jones to claim the European Championships silver in Stuttgart (2:10:57) behind his compatriot Gelindo Bordin, and returned to New York taking third place (2:12:13) behind another Italian, Gianni Poli.

These days the two-time Italian king of New York operates a company bearing his name which offers running camps and a consultation service, and which provides scholarships to athletes aged from 16 to 22.

Long before he became the fastest man in history, before the Olympic gold medals, world records, and global superstardom, Usain Bolt was simply a gifted teenager with extraordinary speed and limitless potential. In 2002, on the track at Kingston's National Stadium in Jamaica, the world witnessed the first chapter of a story that would forever change athletics.

At just 15 years old, Bolt lined up for the men's 200 metres at the World Junior Championships with the weight of expectation resting on young shoulders. Competing before a passionate home crowd, the Jamaican prodigy produced a performance that instantly captivated the athletics world. Crossing the finish line in 20.61 seconds, he became the youngest athlete ever to win the men's 200m title at the championships.

It was far more than a gold medal. It was the moment the world realised that a once-in-a-generation talent had arrived.

Bolt's victory in Kingston marked the beginning of one of the greatest careers in sporting history. Over the years that followed, he rewrote the record books, dominated the Olympic Games and World Championships, and transformed sprinting into a global spectacle through his breathtaking speed, infectious personality, and unrivalled confidence. His legacy continues to inspire young athletes across the globe, many of whom dream of following the same path he once began as a teenager.

This week, that dream comes alive once again as the World Athletics U20 Championships take centre stage at the iconic Hayward Field in Eugene, Oregon. The venue has already witnessed the birth of future superstars. In 2014, it was where Britain's Dina Asher-Smith and Uganda's Joshua Cheptegei captured their first global titles, launching careers that would later produce world championships, Olympic medals, and lasting legacies in athletics.

Twelve years later, another generation arrives in Eugene hoping to create its own defining moment.

Among the brightest young talents is Great Britain's Jake Odey-Jordan, the 200m bronze medallist from Lima who now owns the European U20 100m record after an astonishing 10.01-second performance. He enters the championships eager to build on his growing reputation as one of Europe's most exciting young sprinters.

The United States will look to Tate Taylor, who has already made history as the first American high school athlete to break the 20-second barrier for the 200 metres. Fresh from a Diamond League victory in a sensational 19.75 seconds, he arrives in Eugene carrying the momentum of one of the most remarkable junior seasons ever recorded.

Jamaica, the nation that introduced the world to Usain Bolt, will once again have high hopes through Shanoya Douglas. The talented sprinter has established herself as one of the championship's leading contenders after producing lifetime bests of 10.98 seconds for the 100m and 22.11 for the 200m this season.

History has repeatedly shown that the World U20 Championships are far more than a junior competition. They are often the first chapter in the careers of future Olympic champions, world record holders, and global icons. Every generation arrives with ambitious dreams, but only a select few leave having announced themselves to the world.

No one can say with certainty whether the next Usain Bolt will emerge this week. Greatness cannot be predicted, and legends are never manufactured. Yet every legendary career begins with a single breakthrough performance.

For Bolt, that defining moment came in Kingston in 2002.

Now, under the famous lights of Hayward Field, another group of gifted teenagers stands ready to chase history. Somewhere among them could be the next athlete whose name will inspire the world for years to come.

"An athlete cannot run with money in his pockets. He must run with hope in his heart and dreams in his head." More than seventy years after those words were spoken, they remain among the most powerful messages ever shared in distance running. They are often quoted as simple motivation, but behind them lies a remarkable story of sacrifice, courage, conviction, and an unwavering belief that true greatness is never measured by financial reward.

Few athletes have left a legacy as enduring as Emil Zátopek. Known around the world as "The Czech Locomotive" for his relentless determination and unmistakable running style, he redefined what was possible in endurance racing. His legendary performance at the 1952 Olympic Games in Helsinki still ranks among the greatest achievements in athletics history. In the space of just nine days, he captured Olympic gold in the 5,000 meters, the 10,000 meters, and, incredibly, the marathon—a race he had never attempted before.

Yet the world in which Zátopek competed was vastly different from today's professional athletics landscape. During the 1950s, elite sport officially operated under strict amateur rules. Olympic athletes were forbidden from accepting prize money or earning a living directly from competition, although unofficial financial arrangements existed in many sports. Zátopek himself never raced for appearance fees or lucrative prize purses. Instead, he served as an officer in the Czechoslovak People's Army, receiving a military salary while representing his country. Running brought him glory, but not personal wealth.

It was within that environment that his famous words carried genuine meaning. For Zátopek, success was never driven by the promise of money. He believed the greatest performances were fueled by hope, ambition, discipline, and the courage to pursue dreams that seemed impossible. Those qualities, rather than financial incentives, formed the foundation of lasting excellence.

With the benefit of history, his words carry even greater significance. In 1968, during the Prague Spring, Zátopek openly supported democratic reforms in Czechoslovakia. When the movement was crushed, he paid a heavy personal price for standing by his principles. He was stripped of his military rank, removed from public life, and forced into years of manual labor. The man who had once stood proudly atop the Olympic podium found himself performing physically demanding jobs, far removed from the stadiums where he had inspired millions.

His story reminds us that the values he expressed were not empty words crafted for public admiration. He lived by them, even when doing so came at enormous personal cost. His belief that hope and conviction mattered more than material rewards became evident not only in the races he won, but also in the hardships he endured with remarkable dignity.

Distance running has changed dramatically since Zátopek's era. Today's elite athletes compete in a fully professional sport where prize money, sponsorship contracts, appearance fees, and endorsement deals can be worth millions. Success on the track and roads now offers opportunities that were unimaginable during the age of amateur competition. Professionalism has transformed the sport, allowing athletes to train full-time, access world-class coaching and sports science, and build financially secure careers.

Yet despite these changes, the essence of Zátopek's message has never lost its relevance.

Every elite runner naturally hopes to earn a good living from years of dedication and sacrifice. There is nothing wrong with financial success, and the rewards available today have elevated the standard of competition across the world. But history consistently shows that money alone is rarely enough to sustain greatness. The athletes whose careers endure the longest are often those driven by an inner passion to improve, to test their limits, and to chase excellence for its own sake. Financial rewards become the result of that commitment, not the reason for it.

When competition is motivated solely by wealth, its deeper purpose can fade. But when an athlete races with genuine belief, relentless determination, and an unwavering dream, extraordinary performances often follow naturally.

That is why Emil Zátopek's words continue to resonate across generations. His legacy extends far beyond Olympic medals and world records. It lives in every runner who laces up their shoes with a goal that cannot be measured in dollars, every athlete who refuses to surrender when the race becomes painful, and every competitor who understands that the greatest victories begin long before the finish line.

The economics of distance running may have evolved beyond recognition, but the heart of the sport remains unchanged. Every athlete still arrives at the starting line carrying something far more valuable than money—hope in their heart and dreams in their head. Those invisible qualities have always been, and will always remain, the true fuel of greatness.

Winning a major championship is never just about crossing the finish line first. Behind every gold medal lies a carefully crafted race plan, and Josh Kerr's unforgettable Commonwealth Games triumph in Glasgow was a perfect example of tactical brilliance meeting extraordinary finishing speed.

While the final time of 3:54.12 for the mile will be remembered as the official result, the split times reveal a much deeper story—one of patience, precision, and devastating acceleration when it mattered most.

Kerr resisted any temptation to force the pace from the gun. Instead, he settled into a controlled rhythm, allowing the opening stages to unfold naturally. His first four 100-metre segments—14.9, 15.1, 15.3 and 15.1 seconds—brought him through 400 metres in 60.4 seconds, a measured opening that conserved valuable energy while keeping him firmly in contention.

The second lap remained equally composed. Passing 500 metres in 15.3 seconds before recording splits of 15.7, 16.2 and 15.4, Kerr reached 800 metres in 2:03.0. The pace had eased, but that was exactly where the Scottish star wanted to be. Rather than chasing early speed, he was setting the stage for a decisive finish.

Everything changed after halfway.

Kerr gradually increased the tempo with smooth, controlled acceleration. His 900-metre and 1,000-metre splits of 15.2 and 14.9 seconds signalled that the race was beginning to stretch. He then surged through 1,100 metres in 14.3 seconds before covering the next 100 metres in just 13.4 seconds to reach 1,200 metres in 3:00.8.

From there, the home crowd witnessed championship running at its finest.

Instead of fading, Kerr became even stronger. He reeled off three consecutive 100-metre splits of 13.4, 13.4 and 12.8 seconds, dismantling the field with every stride. His final 100 metres were covered in a stunning 12.5 seconds, sealing an emphatic victory and sending the Glasgow crowd into celebration.

The progression of his race was remarkable. After opening with relaxed 15-second splits, Kerr transformed the closing stages into a demonstration of world-class speed endurance. His ability to accelerate continuously over the final 600 metres highlighted not only exceptional fitness but also supreme confidence in his race plan.

Championship middle-distance racing is rarely about producing the fastest possible time from the start. More often, it rewards athletes who understand when to conserve energy and when to unleash everything they have left. Kerr executed that philosophy to perfection.

His split chart paints the picture of a runner who never panicked, never wasted effort, and saved his greatest weapon for the closing stages. It was a textbook display of patience followed by relentless aggression—a combination that turned a tactical race into a memorable Commonwealth gold medal performance.

For aspiring middle-distance runners, Kerr's Glasgow masterpiece offers an important lesson: the strongest finish often belongs not to the athlete who runs hardest from the gun, but to the one who knows exactly when to make their move. On home soil, Josh Kerr timed that move to perfection, producing a performance that will stand as one of the defining moments of the championships.

At just nine years old, Oliver Smith has achieved something extraordinary—not by chasing records or medals, but by proving that determination, compassion, and consistency can create a life-changing impact.

Hailing from Wombwell, on the outskirts of Barnsley, Oliver set himself a remarkable challenge at the beginning of the year. Rather than attempting a single marathon, he decided to complete the equivalent distance of nine marathons over several months. From January 1 to April 26, the young runner covered an incredible 380 kilometres, breaking the distance into manageable daily runs suitable for a child his age.

His routine was built on dedication. Saturdays were reserved for parkrun events, Sundays for junior parkrun, while the remaining kilometres were steadily accumulated throughout the week. Averaging approximately 3.3 kilometres each day, Oliver never lost sight of the goal that inspired every step.

The challenge carried deep personal meaning. Last summer, Oliver's father, Tom Smith, suffered a devastating health setback after losing most of the vision in one eye. Medical examinations revealed a 4-centimetre meningioma wrapped around his optic nerve, leading to a complex 12-hour operation at the Royal Hallamshire Hospital in Sheffield.

Throughout the family's difficult journey, The Brain Tumour Charity provided invaluable guidance, support, and reassurance. Grateful for the help his family received, Oliver decided he wanted to give back in the most meaningful way he could. He launched a fundraising campaign with an initial goal of raising £2,000 to support others facing similar challenges.

What followed exceeded everyone's expectations.

Oliver brought his incredible fundraising challenge to a memorable conclusion at the Mini London Marathon, finishing on the very same day his mother, Hannah Smith, completed her first-ever London Marathon. It was a fitting family celebration of courage, resilience, and perseverance.

By the time Oliver crossed the finish line, donations had soared beyond £16,500—more than eight times his original target. His remarkable achievement captured the hearts of supporters, demonstrating how one young boy's determination could unite an entire community behind an important cause.

For Oliver, however, the journey is far from over. Inspired by the overwhelming support and the difference his efforts have made, he has already begun working toward his next fundraising challenge.

His story serves as a powerful reminder that age is no barrier to making a meaningful difference. Sometimes, the greatest acts of courage are measured not by speed or distance, but by the willingness to take one small step after another for the benefit of others.

Oliver Smith's inspiring journey is more than a fundraising success—it is a testament to the strength of family, the power of kindness, and the extraordinary impact that can begin with the simplest decision to help.

Sometimes the smallest opportunity creates the greatest triumph, and Jamaica's Navasky Anderson proved exactly that with a stunning performance to capture the men's 800m title at the 2026 Commonwealth Games in Glasgow.

Less than 24 hours after scraping into the final by the slimmest of margins, Anderson produced the race of his life, surging to victory in 1:45.33 to complete one of the most remarkable comeback stories of the championships. His gold medal was not only a reward for exceptional talent but also for courage, determination, and unwavering belief when everything was on the line.

The journey to the top nearly ended in the semifinals. Locked in an intense battle with England's Max Burgin for the final qualification place, Anderson threw himself across the finish line in a dramatic dive, stopping the clock at 1:45.38. That desperate effort earned him the last available place in the final as the fastest non-automatic qualifier, keeping his Commonwealth dream alive by the narrowest of margins.

With another chance in his hands, the Jamaican made sure it counted.

In a fiercely contested final, Anderson displayed outstanding tactical awareness and patience throughout the opening stages before unleashing a devastating finishing kick down the home straight. His perfectly timed acceleration left the rest of the field with no answer as he crossed the finish line first, securing a memorable Commonwealth crown and one of Jamaica's standout victories of the Games.

Australia's Luke Boyes delivered an impressive performance to claim the silver medal in 1:45.93, while Kenya's Wyclife Kinyamal battled strongly to take bronze in 1:46.12 after another highly competitive championship race.

Anderson's unforgettable triumph will be remembered as one of the defining moments of Glasgow 2026—a powerful reminder that championships are not always won by the fastest qualifier, but often by the athlete who refuses to surrender. From a fearless dive that kept his hopes alive to a brilliant gold-medal performance less than a day later, the Jamaican wrote one of the most inspiring chapters of these Commonwealth Games.

Men's 800m Final Results

1. Navasky Anderson (Jamaica) — 1:45.33

2. Luke Boyes (Australia) — 1:45.93

3. Wyclife Kinyamal (Kenya) — 1:46.12

Navasky Anderson arrived in the final as the last man to qualify, but he left Glasgow as the Commonwealth champion—a remarkable transformation that perfectly captures the unpredictable beauty of championship athletics.