“Sherlock Holmes was a man who seldom took exercise for exercise’s
sake ... he looked upon aimless bodily exertion as a waste of energy.”
_The Adventure of the Beryl Coronet_
Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson were unquestionably men of outstanding
athletic ability. Holmes was a single-stick player, a boxer, and a
swordsman (_A Study in Scarlet_). Watson had played rugby in
college, and probably had engaged in other collegiate sports. They were
strong men, quick of action and fleet of foot.
Quickness of action surely was needed to save Sir Henry Baskerville
from the hound. It will be recalled that the fog from the Grimpen Mire
that autumn night had spread over the path which Sir Henry was to
follow from Stapleton’s house to Baskerville Hall. As a consequence,
the visibility was so low that Sherlock Holmes and his companions
could not see the hound until it was dangerously close to its intended
victim. Watson describes the episode dramatically: “Never have I seen
a man run as Holmes ran that night. I am reckoned fleet of foot, but
he outpaced me as much as I outpaced the little professional” (_The
Hound of the Baskervilles_). At any rate, we know that these
determined men, led by Holmes, reached Sir Henry just in time and
killed the hound before it could harm him.
Watson’s statement, “Never have I seen a man run as Holmes ran that
night,” bespeaks high praise of Holmes as an exceptionally fast
man. Watson, when a college student, had doubtless seen first-class
trackmen perform, but nevertheless he distinctly implies that Holmes
as a runner was in a class by himself. Holmes was making an effort to
save a man’s life, but so were Watson and Lestrade, the Scotland Yard
detective. Holmes, it is true, had the build of a trackman, since he
was tall and lithe, whereas Watson had a decidedly burly physique, and
Lestrade is described as rather short in stature. Watson, despite his
stocky build, admits that he himself was a sprinter of parts, but he
was obviously no match for Holmes.
Not only was Holmes a fast runner, but a skilled boxer as well. Watson
writes: “He was undoubtedly one of the finest boxers of his weight I
have seen ...” (_The Yellow Face_). A real compliment, for Watson
was a keen sportsman who probably had had occasion to attend many
boxing matches. Holmes was six feet tall--at least he so described
himself (_The Adventure of the Three Students_). The suggestion
has been made that he weighed about 11 stone (154 pounds) and had
a physique resembling that of Bob Fitzsimmons,[5] that is, he was
rangy. A boxer with a long reach has, of course, a decided advantage.
Holmes, too, was fast on his feet, as previously mentioned. Added to
these attributes, he had a superior intelligence, which enabled him
to analyze his opponent’s tactics and to outsmart him. He doubtless
was a dangerous man in the ring. There is evidence that this is so. He
gave an extremely good account of himself when he tackled such rough
customers as Roaring Jack Woodley (_The Adventure of the Solitary
Cyclist_), Joseph Harris (_The Naval Treaty_), and an anonymous
ruffian (_The Final Problem_); furthermore, the professional boxer
McMurdo (_The Sign of the Four_) had a high regard for Holmes’
boxing ability.
Besides being a runner and a boxer, Holmes was a wrestler of no mean
ability. He tangled with such villains as Colonel Sebastian Moran,
the second most dangerous man in London (_The Adventure of the Empty
House_); Professor Moriarty, the Napoleon of crime (_The Final
Problem_); and the vigorous and powerful German master spy Von Borck
(_The Last Bow_). It has been suggested,[6] and I believe rightly, that
Holmes used “baritsu” when dealing with these dangerous characters.
They were real killers and would have stopped at nothing. Sherlock
Holmes could not afford to take chances when he encountered them. In
many instances, Holmes had the dependable and powerful Watson at his
side; but whether alone or in company, we know he nearly always got his
man.
We infer, especially from a certain episode, that Holmes possessed
muscles of steel and had an iron grip. It will be remembered that
on one occasion the fierce and gigantic Dr. Grimesby Roylott strode
unannounced into the chambers at 221B Baker Street. In a fit of temper,
he seized a poker, “... and bent it into a curve” (_The Adventure of
the Speckled Band_). After the unpleasant visitor had left, Holmes
without much apparent effort straightened the poker out--a task
requiring more strength than the initial bending.
I have always felt that, in spite of this startling demonstration on
the part of Holmes, for sheer bull-like strength Dr. Watson undoubtedly
excelled him. It is true that once at least Watson met his match.
He relates that on one occasion he was assaulted by an extremely
powerful and active man who sprang upon him and nearly choked him
to death (_The Disappearance of Lady Frances Carfax_). This is
an unusual incident, and Watson must have been unprepared, for in a
rough-and-tumble fight he could take care of himself in fast company.
He had the courage and tenacity of an English bulldog, and, what is
more important, knew how to use his strength. Watson did not pretend to
be as quick on his feet as Holmes, but he had the other qualities just
mentioned to a superlative degree, and these count for a great deal in
a catch-as-catch-can bout. Holmes was cognizant of Watson’s prowess,
for once the great detective stated that when a man was in a tight
place there was no better man to have on one’s side than Watson.
An interesting query can be posed: How did these men keep themselves in
reasonably sound physical condition? Watson does not help us to answer
this question satisfactorily, for he has this to say about Holmes:
Sherlock Holmes was a man who seldom took exercise for exercise’s
sake. Few men were capable of greater muscular effort, and he was
undoubtedly one of the finest boxers of his weight that I have ever
seen; but he looked upon aimless bodily exertion as a waste of
energy, and he seldom bestirred himself save where there was some
professional object to be served. Then he was absolutely untiring and
indefatigable. That he should have kept himself in training under such
circumstances is remarkable, but his diet was usually of the sparest,
and his habits were simple to the verge of austerity.
_The Adventure of the Beryl Coronet_
Watson makes two statements which especially require critical comment:
the first one, “Few men were capable of greater muscular effort ...”
and the second, “Then he was absolutely untiring and indefatigable.”
These statements are not convincing, because they are not consistent.
Watson plainly indicates that Holmes did not believe in training; and
when the record is examined, we discover that actually both Holmes and
Watson led sedentary lives. Neither of them engaged in any sport while
residing at 221B Baker Street. The only exercise they took, when not
working on a case, was walking.
It might be in order to digress a moment and speak of the physiology
of exercise. As far as physical training is concerned, we know that
there is no substitute for strenuous exercise. The physiology of
training is not yet well understood, and but few objective criteria
are recognized. There is one criterion, however, which is widely
known, and that is the muscular hypertrophy produced by exercise. The
classical example is the tremendously developed muscles of the arm of
the blacksmith. Most of us in childhood learned Longfellow’s apt lines:
“The smith, a mighty man is he, with large and sinewy hands; And the
muscles of his brawny arms are strong as iron bands.”
Besides muscular development, there are other factors, although
less objective in character and less clearly understood, which are
brought about by training. Among these are adaptive changes in the
cardiovascular and respiratory system, and certain chemical changes in
the blood.
Several examples can be given to show that Dr. Watson appreciated the
physiologic symptoms brought about by lack of physical training. On
one occasion, he describes the unexpected visit to 221B Baker Street,
upon a winter’s morning, of Mr. Alexander Holder, the financier of
Threadneedle Street. “He was a man of about fifty, tall, portly, and
imposing ... he was running hard, with occasional little springs, such
as a weary man gives who is little accustomed to set any tax upon his
legs.” Watson continues: “... the man, puffing and blowing, rushed at
our door ...” (_The Adventure of the Beryl Coronet_). This excited
and distracted individual finally composed himself and apologetically
explained that, instead of taking a cab (because cabs go slowly through
the snow), he had hurried to Baker Street on foot. Said he: “That
is why I was so out of breath, for I am a man who takes very little
exercise.” In this connection, one is reminded of Lewis Carroll’s lines:
“But wait a bit,” the Oysters cried,
“Before we have our chat;
For some of us are out of breath,
And all of us are fat.”
On another occasion, Watson discloses that, because of his sedentary
life, he became “blown” and was forced to slow down, whereas Holmes
never faltered, because he was always in training. Watson admitted
that his sedentary life had begun to tell upon him and he had to
fall behind. Holmes, on the other hand, never slackened his pace,
and apparently had an inexhaustible supply of nervous energy (_The
Adventure of the Solitary Cyclist_).
Another example is found in _The Hound of the Baskervilles_. It
will be remembered that, on a damp, sullen evening, Dr. Watson and Sir
Henry attempted to catch the escaped criminal Selden, who was hiding
out on the moor. Watson, in his report to Holmes, writes:
We were both swift runners and in fairly good training, but we soon
found that we had no chance of overtaking him.... We ran and ran until
we were completely blown, but the space between us grew ever wider.
Finally we stopped and sat panting on two rocks....
In this instance, Watson mentions that he was in fairly good physical
condition, although he does not tell us how he managed to reach
that state. We must assume that he had been keeping his weight
down by dieting and probably taking long walks on the lonely moor.
These two factors alone, however, are not sufficient to fit a man
for extraordinary and prolonged physical exertion. As pointed out
previously, the only way this can be done is by daily, well-regulated,
arduous exercise.
In the matter of physical fitness, there is another side of the shield
which we must examine. A few individuals, although not many, in spite
of their sedentary habits, are apparently at all times physically fit.
The muscles of these men seem to keep their firmness and power even
though they are but little used. This is difficult to understand.
Sherlock Holmes probably was one of these unusual people.
I doubt whether Watson would fit into this category. The good doctor
probably had a tendency to put on weight rather easily, and one gets
the impression from reading the tales that Watson liked his three
square meals each day. He was, to my mind, a typical beefeater.
Furthermore, he smoked a great deal, but for that matter so did Holmes.
Smoking is thought to interfere with physical fitness; it is said to be
“hard on the wind.” Athletes in training are invariably forbidden to
smoke. Just how smoking affects physical fitness is not known. It is
generally conceded, however, that tobacco in any form, especially if
used to excess, reduces both mental and physical efficiency. There is
considerable scientific proof for this statement, although this is not
the place to present it.
The beneficial effect of even a moderate amount of exercise has been
questioned by otherwise intelligent men. A brilliant colleague of mine,
for example, contends that the only thing exercise does is to make one
fit for still more exercise _ad infinitum_. Well, in a measure this
is true, for exercise really is the basis of training, as has been
repeatedly emphasized. One famous educator in this country has publicly
stated that, when he feels like exercising, he lies down until the
feeling passes away. Then there is the story of Chauncey Depew, who
lived to the age of ninety-four. When asked what exercise he took to
maintain his health, he replied: “The only exercise I have ever taken
is to serve as pallbearer for my friends who exercised.” I suspect
that these members of the intelligentsia, in their zeal to make their
points, have purposely overstated their case.
Be that as it may, many people insist that a certain amount of exercise
causes them to feel better. Admittedly, it is difficult for them
to explain just what is meant when they say “feel better”--it is a
subjective rather than an objective matter. Several reasons can be
mentioned, however, why moderate exercise seems beneficial to many
people.
To those whose work keeps them constantly at a desk, exercise comes as
a welcome relief from monotony. Physiologically, we know that a change
of occupation in many instances is as good as a rest. A brisk walk
through the park--or better still, in the country--brings to the eye a
shifting panorama and relieves boredom and fatigue. Many people enjoy
sports, such as a leisurely swim or a short round of golf. The pursuit
of these not only calls for exercise, but rests the mind from vexing
problems. In fact, there is something intangible about it all; in many
individuals, a pronounced psychic component unquestionably plays an
important part. Keeping fit, for example, often produces a mental lift
and makes some people feel quite content with themselves. This feeling
may assume sizable, if not untoward, proportions. The person who takes
exercise regularly, who keeps his waistline down, and maintains himself
in a fairly good physical state, may feel smug and distinctly superior.
He often looks down with pity at his friends who do not believe “in
exercise for exercise’s sake,” and, we might add, whose figures confirm
and illustrate the fact.
In discussing the philosophy of exercise, we wish to make clear that
there is no proof that strenuous muscular activity is beneficial to
the body. Indeed, great physical exertion in those past middle age
may be deleterious to the organism. The late distinguished English
physiologist, Professor F. A. Bainbridge, has happily stated: “The
exercise consequent upon the ordinary activities of life is sufficient.”
Exercise, however, should not be counted upon to bring about
weight reduction. It has been shown, for example, working with
marathon runners at the Harvard Fatigue Laboratories, that it took
two and one-half hours of steady running to burn up two pounds of
carbohydrates. It has been facetiously pointed out that the most
telling exercise leading to a trim figure is the simple procedure of
pushing the chair away from the dining table.
The current belief is that people who keep reasonably fit appear
healthier than those who do not. Watson caught this thought when he
wrote that Mr. Garrideb had a cadaverous face, his skin was dull, and
it resembled that of a person who never exercised (_The Adventure of
the Three Garridebs_).
In passing, we find a reference concerning a means of taking exercise
which shows the austere Holmes in a light frame of mind. He twits
Watson about an individual’s using only one dumbbell, and facetiously
states that such a person would not develop his muscles symmetrically,
and as a consequence might suffer from curvature of the spine (_The
Valley of Fear_). Holmes does not tell the whole story. The
single dumbbell which worried him could have been used alternately
by the right and left hand, and thus unilateral development would be
prevented. Watson, as a medical man, knew this; but like a good soldier
he let Holmes have his fun and made no reply.
In conclusion, we may say that the principal question we have raised
still remains unanswered: that is, how did Holmes and Watson keep
themselves in good physical condition? This will always be a mystery.
Search as we will, we can find no evidence that either Holmes or Watson
kept himself in training. This seems remarkable since there were times
when they needed strength and stamina in order to put their foes out
of commission, and indeed there were occasions when their very lives
depended upon it.
It is difficult to believe that unless Holmes and Watson kept
themselves in fairly good condition they could have held their own
against strong and desperate men, who presumably were in good fighting
form. When one considers how important it was for our heroes to keep
physically fit, one is drawn to the irresistible conclusion that they
actually took much more exercise and kept themselves in far better
training than appears in the tales. Besides their long walks through
London, they probably took setting-up exercises at 221B Baker Street.
They may even have done some weight lifting or have used dumbbells
(since Holmes was so concerned about finding a single dumbbell);
perhaps they boxed with each other. It is even possible that they did
some swimming. It will be recalled that, after his retirement, Holmes
frequently went swimming (_The Adventure of the Lion’s Mane_). They may
have engaged in still other forms of exercise. I, for one, am ready to
believe that they did not lead such sedentary lives as Dr. Watson would
have us think.