wheat, rice, oatmeal gruel, and the various vegetables in the market,
often, if not regularly, make the dinner inviting; and a piece of
salmon or a dish of poultry or game is an occasional visitor, aiding
to vary yet more the programme. Tapioco, farina and other vegetable
puddings make an admirable substitute for heavy puddings as a desert.
Milk, water, and tea again, and also butter and salt, in reasonable
quantities, are permitted.
Bread and milk, or tea, butter, oatmeal gruel, dry toast and crackers,
are the chief and often only articles taken at supper.
About a half hour’s careful rowing at a tolerable pace, with an
occasional stop or “easy,” for instruction and rest, in the morning.
In the afternoon, an hour’s rowing, with not more than two or three
rests, will complete the day’s water work.
The rate of speed in the afternoon should go up from thirty-five
strokes a minute when commencing training to racing gait during the
last two weeks, and pulling over the proposed course once “on time”
will be plenty of work for this last period.
A three or four mile walk, at a four-mile gait, starting an hour after
breakfast, will not, unless in extremely hot weather, prove too much
for a vigorous young man with ordinarily good legs. The speed of this
walk should be reached gradually, and after, perhaps, if a man in the
start is much out of condition, say two weeks slower going.
A thorough rubbing of the entire body, until the skin is absolutely
red, should “immediately” follow each row, and then a dry suit should
be donned. Flannel is the best material for it.
Eight hours should seem a good medium for sleep. If a man feels all
right with a less amount than this, he should regulate his own hours;
but if he is nervous and excitable, he should have more. He should
never lie abed awake in the morning, but spring up at once, and take
his sponge bath, or in warm weather, if convenient, a plunge into cold
water.
HARRY CLASPER’S SYSTEM.
Rise between 6 and 7 A. M., walk four or five miles. Breakfast at 8 A.
M.--Chop or couple of eggs, bread, tea, Rest for half an hour, and then
a brisk walk or run. If morning exercise has not been heavy, a row,
terminating about 11 A. M. Dinner at 12 M.--Beef or mutton, broiled;
egg-pudding, with currants in it if desired, or other light farinaceous
pudding; old ale, one glass; wine, one glass, (port); or ale, two
glasses, without wine. Rest for an hour, and then on the river again
for a hard row. “Rowing exercise should be taken twice every day.” Tea,
with toasted bread sparingly buttered, with one egg only--more has a
tendency to choke the system. Supper, not recommended. When taken, to
consist of new milk and bread, or gruel, with raisins and currants
and a glass of port wine in it. Bed about 10 P. M. _Summary_: sleep,
between eight and nine hours; exercise, walking and rowing about four
or five hours; diet, limited.
CHARLES WESTHALL’S SYSTEM.
Rise at 6 A. M. or earlier in the summer; cold bath and rub down; sharp
walk about a mile out, and run home; or a row of a couple of miles at
three-parts speed; a dry rub down. Breakfast at 8 A.M.--Mutton chop or
steak, broiled; stale bread or toast, tea, half a pint. Dinner at 2 P.
M.--Meat as at breakfast with a mealy potato, stale bread, old ale,
one pint. Rowing. If dinner be late, luncheon to be taken, to consist
of beef or mutton, hot or cold; bread, old ale, one glass. If dinner
be early, “tea with viands and liquids as at breakfast” to be taken.
Supper--Half a pint of thin gruel, or dry toast and a glass of old ale.
That the above rules are of course open to alteration according to
circumstances, and the diet varied successfully by the introduction of
fowls, either roast or boiled--the latter preferred; and it must never
be lost sight of that sharp work, regularity and cleanliness are the
chief if not the only rules to be followed to produce thorough good
condition. _Summary_: sleep, about eight hours; exercise, four or five
hours; diet, limited.
H. F. WALSH’S, OR STONEHENGE’S SYSTEM.
Rise at 8 A. M. According to season and weather, cold bath. Exercise,
8.30 to 9 A. M.--Let all take a gentle run or smart walk. In most
instances a smart run of three miles will be about the best distance.
Breakfast; 9 to 9.30 A. M.--Oatmeal porridge, with beef or mutton
broiled, and bread; tea or coffee, or old ale, one pint. Tea is
preferred to coffee. Cocoa is too greasy.
Exercise, 9.30 to 11.30 A. M.--Billiards, skittles, quoits, or other
light exercise. 11.30 A. M. to 1.30 P. M.--Rowing. 1.30 to about 2.30
P. M.--Running, rubbed dry and linen changed.
Dinner, 2.30 to 3 or 3.30 P. M.--Beef (roast) or mutton, (boiled mutton
occasionally), roast fowl, partridges, or pheasants (allowed), or
venison (nothing better); bread, puddings occasionally, made of bread,
eggs, and milk, and served with preserved fruits. Vegetables--Potatoes
(one or two only), cauliflowers and broccoli (only as an occasional
change). Old ale, from a pint to a pint and a half; wine, a glass or
two, port or sherry. After dinner, until 5 or 6 P. M., a gentle stroll.
Rowing 6 to 7 P. M.
Supper, 8 P. M.--Oatmeal porridge, with dry toast, or chop, with glass
of port. Bed at 9 or 10 P. M.
_Summary_: sleep, ten or eleven hours; exercise, say four hours
(exclusive of billiards, etc.); diet, varied.
WINGATE’S SYSTEM FOR A MONTH’S TRAINING.
Rise at about 7 A. M. (Glass of cold water recommended). The crew meet
at 7 A. M., walk and run for four or five miles; or, in later practice,
quick run of two miles. Wash and dress.
Breakfast, 9 A. M.--Meat (broiled), bread (brown) and butter, tea, two
cups. Cocoa made of the nibs boiled for four hours is better than tea
for breakfast.
Luncheon at 1 P. M.--Beef sandwich, with half a pint of old ale, or
biscuit and glass of sherry, or egg in sherry. At 2.30 P. M. row about
four or five miles. This altogether depends on the state of the crew.
Dinner at 6 P. M.--Wash in tepid water. Meat (roast, broiled or
boiled). Vegetables--“The green foods permissible contain in their list
spinach--the very best of all; sea-kale, asparagus, but without melted
butter; turnip-tops, young unhearted greens, but not solid cabbages;
broccoli, carrots, parsnips, and cooked celery. Turnips are also
favored, and peas condemned, also cucumbers, and all salad mixtures.
But boiled beet-root is good, and Jerusalem artichokes; and French
beans stand next to spinach in virtue.” “Any kind of wholesome meat
thoroughly cooked.” The course is varied daily, so that no two days
together shall see the same articles on the table. “Light puddings may
be eaten.” Old ale, one pint. Wine, two glasses of old port or sherry,
or three of claret. Biscuits and dried fruits, as cherries, figs, etc.,
allowed. “All fresh fruits are avoided. Plain jellies are innocuous. As
much spring water as they have a mind to.”
Supper, 9 P. M.--Oatmeal gruel, if desired. Bed at 10 P. M.
_Summary_: sleep, eight or nine hours; exercise, about three hours;
diet, varied.
TRAINING FOR LONG-DISTANCE GO-AS-YOU-PLEASE CONTESTS.
About the first recognized legitimate contest of this kind was
originated by Sir John Astley, a Crimean veteran and general athlete,
giving a valuable gold and silver belt, open to the world, to the
one who should cover the greatest distance, in whatever way he chose,
unassisted, on his legs, for a period of six days. Long distance feats
were not in themselves new, by any means, Capt. Barclay, Foster Powell,
George Wilson, and others in auld lang syne figured conspicuously in
England and Scotland, their journeys being traveled out of doors, on
the roads, similar to the long walks of Weston, Sergeant Bates, Wm.
Gale, and others. The athletic mania, which had lain dormant for so
many years, was suddenly revived in this country, and spread like an
epidemic far and wide, bringing with it a healthy reaction. The saloons
and viler resorts began to lose caste for the running and walking
match. Street cars and stages, and elevated railways complained of lack
of patronage on fine days, as old and young, rich and poor, fell into
the walking rage, and amateur spurts from home to place of business and
_vice versa_ became visible on every few blocks. Even the working girls
caught the health imparting habit, and stepped out as jauntily and with
as much snap as your La Chappelle or Fannie Edwards. Dailies, weeklies
and monthlies saw increased interest and patronage by devoting space
to athletics, while Beecher, Talmage, Moody, and other lesser lights
mixed athletics up with their dogmas, until at the present time it is
the fashion, and with us style is everything. True, druggists, doctors
and undertakers found their business falling off, but we are candid
enough to admit feeling pleased at this state of things, as, from
being looked upon as a nation of tobacco-chewing, nervous, dried-up,
money worshipers, experience has proved that Americans now, instead of
following, take the lead in everything worth speaking about.
[Illustration: BASE BALL.
1. J. M. Ward, Pitcher.
2. Ed. N. Williamson, 3d Base.
3. Fred. Dunlap, 2d Base.
4. Jas. O’Rourke, Right-field.
5. Geo. Wright, Short-stop.
6. P. A. Hines, Centre-field.
7. Joe Start, 1st Base.
8. Chas. N. Snyder, Catcher.
9. Joseph Hornung, Left-field.
CELEBRITIES.]
[Illustration: LLEWELLYN H. JOHNSON,
The Distinguished Amateur American Champion Bicyclist.]
It is not every boy or man who will make a Rowell, an O’Leary, a
Blower Brown, a Frank Hart, or whoever happens to be the head of the
class when this meets the reader’s eye--neither must a young lady
expect to become a Madame Anderson, a May Marshall, or a Von Berg.
Both sexes can, if they have the will, in time, accomplish what now
seems an utter impossibility. Does any one suppose that Daniel O’Leary
walked his square heel-and-toe contests, Madame Anderson her great
accomplishments, Captain Webb his swimming across the English Channel,
Ed. Hanlan conquering all the world as an oarsman, by saying “I can’t,”
and making no further effort? To become adept at anything, perseverance
is the keystone, as “Little by little great oaks from small acorns
grow,” and constant dripping even wears stones away, so that “if at
first you don’t succeed, try, try, try again.” If necessary, commence
by walking only a block at a time, Madame Anderson used to tell her
lady admirers, increasing to two, four, eight, and so on, doubling and
doubling until it will be found as easy to go miles as it was before
the length of a single row of houses. Youth is the best time for
practice, and the smallest, sickliest looking boy or girl will, with
one or two companions, manage to cover an amount of ground that would
make ordinary grown-up people very much inclined to doubt, and very
loth to attempt. The youth has ambition in this direction, not having
yet got into politics, money worshiping or being addicted to chewing,
smoking, drinking, etc., which to many men are considered absolutely
necessary. A party of boys with jackets on their arms will walk and
run eight or ten miles, on a Fourth of July day, cutting up, prattling
away, whistling or singing, with no other refreshment than a little
water or fruit. They fix upon a certain place to go to, may be an
orchard, or to hunt bird’s nests, or to a place to swim, row or fish,
and get there, whereas a man or party of men, unless conveyed straight
to the spot, would probably consume half a dozen lagers at least, and
smoke as many bad cigars, pipesfull of strong tobacco, or chew a paper
of so-called solace. We have tried both, and found out we could travel
twice the distance on a few oranges or a mouthful or two of spring
water, a biscuit or sandwich, than all the lager or tobacco taken in
our life.
Presuming the individual to be in good health, the walks, trots, or
runs must be gradual at first, and increased daily, not exactly in the
order laid down in previous chapters, for the six-day business is more
a trial of endurance than speed. It is not necessary to measure the
distance between meals, but keep on the go until pretty well tired,
rest at intervals, then buckle to again. The “Rowell trot” won him
the belt and drew a $50,000 gate, his share the first time he came to
New York, after all expenses being over $20,000. It has been proved
beyond all argument that trotting or running beats walking, and when
once acquired the dog trot will come as easy to a man (if not easier)
as a fast walking gait. In practicing long-distance running, style is
nothing--wind and freshness everything--let your arms, therefore, swing
easy which ever way comes most natural, as the legs are the motors for
this kind of work. Neither attempt long or short strides, no matter
what your gait, clumsy or otherwise, for it is the distance to be got
over that will land you a winner, not your shape or traveling on your
“pretty,” however people may criticise. An old car-horse will keep
up the same jog-trot nearly all day apparently undistressed, while a
terrible three-mile dash at full speed will perhaps use the fast horse
up. It was not natural for the car-horse to go that gait at first,
but he was broke to it, and men are pretty much like horses in this
respect, except that they can endure more in the long run. You will
doubtless have “bellows to mend,” stitches in your side, etc., but
stick it out and they will not come again probably twice the same day.
A short stick, easy-fitting clothes, light head cover, well-seasoned
and easy fitting laced-up shoes, seamless, woolen stockings, and a
cheerful companion are all necessary. If troubled with sore feet
the pedestrian should follow Dr. Parks’ advice to the British Army,
viz.: Before setting out dip the feet for a minute or two in very hot
water, wipe them quite dry, and then rub them with soap (soft soap
is best) till there is a good lather; then put on the stockings. If,
notwithstanding, they are yet foot-sore, at the end of the day wipe
the feet with a damp cloth, and rub them with a mixture of tallow
and spirits of wine. Besides this, great attention should be paid to
the stockings, which should be constantly washed. Worsted and merino
stockings are preferable to cotton ones.
If thirsty, one or two oranges will quench that, and be most agreeable
to the stomach, as well as being of more benefit than anything else.
When in-doors, light dumb-bells and the skipping-rope may be used
vigorously to improve the wind, but nothing heavy or too violent, as
in this branch of athletics the muscles to be controlled are those
of the legs instead of the arms; change of flannels, socks, shoes, a
salt water sponge-bath, rub down; then apply a little bay rum, mouth
rinsed out, and a pleasant chat with a friend will make you feel like
a new man, and after meals, before alluded to, ready and willing to
tackle hard work again. If the pedestrian’s appetite falls off, whether
from nervousness, sleeplessness or whatever causes, a preparation of
iron and gentian may be taken, say a teaspoonful about ten minutes
before eating, until his natural appetite returns, when it should be
discontinued. If, on the other hand, the food taken does not digest
readily, and symptoms of dyspepsia follow eating, then a tablespoonful
of wine of pepsin a quarter of an hour after meals will soon bring that
trouble over, discontinuing when it does. When sickness at the stomach
succeeds, a tablespoonful of prepared lime water, taken in a little
milk, when the feeling comes on, acts like a charm. When the bowels are
lax, thickened flour and milk are good. If costive, rhubarb preserves,
or prune tea, or a mild injection of soap and warm water will be found
to answer every purpose.
Some enterprising Knight of St. Crispin, with a view to increase their
trade by working on the feelings of pedestrians and others, introduced
the old-fashioned piece of steel under the instep, between the welt and
the sole, and designated them spring walking-shoes, for which there
used to be quite a demand. Experience, however, has proved that the
only spring likely to lead to the winning-post is what nature gave,
and that all artificial appendages are more likely to do harm than
good. The shoe best adapted for a walker of from one to ten miles is
a low-cut shoe, laced nearly to the toe, with low heel, broad instep
and plenty of room for the toes, and light as possible and of the best
seasoned leather. Ordinary shoemakers can no more make professional
running or walking shoes than an ordinary blacksmith can turn out a
razor or set of chicken-gaffs, and, therefore, the business should be
entrusted to those who make a specialty of it.
The most successful and tractable of modern pedestrians, Charles
Rowell, has made more money in his two six-days’ contests in New York
than he would have in fifty years at a trade or in his own country.
Here we are carried away with almost anything of an international
character, both press and public. When Rowell made his 500 miles in the
first visit and 524 on his second, it was generally conceded that he
performed the distance on the square, and hence the patronage bestowed.
Other six-day contests have been given with nearly 40 more miles tacked
on to the winner ahead of Rowell’s time by the black-board, but the
receipts were as quarters to dollars in comparison. There appears to
be a weakness for figures not altogether warranted by the financial
results at the end of the week.
To all, therefore, who compete in long distances for love or money, do
not worry about the score, but _keep ahead all the time_. A gain of ten
miles on the first day, when honestly made, and with the intention of
staying on the track through the competition, will be pretty sure to
find the leader far enough ahead to carry off the lion’s share, for, as
the veteran Jack Goulding’s logic proves, if there is a dollar at the
end of every mile it is surprising how many miles a man will go. The
practice of the crack flyers competing on the first day, with no idea
of going the week more by preconcert, may suit the betting ring and the
book-makers, but it has hurt the business more than can ever be patched
up again by the most adroit, self-interested parties.
In addition to Rowell, Brown, Hazael and others have been brought out,
but they either went wrong or could not be managed by their trainers.
Self-reliance is very well, but an ungovernable temper or dissipated
habits are sure to be left behind when opposed to tractability and
abstemiousness. The English peds used to say there were lots of better
men than Rowell over there, but John Astley knew he was unapproachable
and as honest as they make them, and, whether the best or not, he
carried off the belt against all competitors.
The advantage of an intelligent, capable trainer cannot be
over-estimated, and, one who can satisfy his protege of his superiority
in his business, as well as a man of nerve, is what is required.
When Dan Donnelly, the champion pugilist of Ireland, was trained by
Capt. Kelly for his fight with George Cooper, he was in magnificent
condition, but when he met Tom Oliver, having had men to look after him
whom he considered only his equal or perhaps inferior, he was in no
condition at all. We are of the opinion that John Ennis but for James
Cusick would never have got second place to Rowell, or Nick Murphy,
Steve Brodie, Hart, Panchot, etc., made the time they did but for men
of superior qualification.
It will be interesting to the young athletes to know the length of
time taken for rest by the six-day men, and therefore supply this
information so as to be easy of reference. We allude to the contest
from April 5th to 10th, 1880, inclusive: Hart, 23 hours 2 minutes 59
seconds; Pegram, 31 hours 30 minutes 53 seconds; Howard, 30 hours, 50
minutes 39 seconds; Dobler, 22 hours 37 minutes 12 seconds; Allen, 34
hours 24 minutes 49 seconds; Krohne, 27 hours 18 minutes 15 seconds;
Williams, 28 hours 52 minutes 33 seconds, and Hanwaker, 27 hours 58
minutes 21 seconds. Hart’s actual time on the course was 118 hours 20
minutes and 1 second, and his average walk in that time was at the rate
of 4 7-10 miles per hour.
Rowell’s regular food when on a six-days march is beefsteak, chops,
bread, vegetables, tea and coffee; occasionally he takes a little
pudding and cheese. Guyon feeds on beef tea, chops, potatoes, toast,
tea and coffee, but no stimulants. Weston, beef tea, custard, lime
water and tea, beefsteak and no stimulants. Ennis, oatmeal, beef tea,
rare beef and oysters. Hazael, chops, steaks, crackers, toast and lemon
soda. Merritt feeds on jellies, fruits, beef, mutton and vegetables,
with tea and coffee. Hart eats chops, chopped eggs, toast, corn bread,
tea and coffee.
TRAINING FOR BASEBALL.
It is well known that an athlete desirous of excelling in any
special sport or game must be trained only to the extent to suit the
requirements of the sport he desires to become an expert in. To train
young men in a gymnasium alike for rowing, running or for field work in
baseball, cricket or lacrosse, putting them through the same routine of
exercises, is simply to unnecessarily overwork them for one particular
sport, and to give them insufficient exercise for another. Of course,
to a certain extent, all kinds of gymnastic exercises, if moderately
engaged in, tend to develop a healthful physique, if gone through
with under the rules of an intelligent system; but the indiscriminate
way in which baseball players enter a gymnasium and go through with
what they call their training is ofttimes worse than useless work in
preparing them to sustain the fatigue incident to their game. What is
necessary for a baseball player in gymnastic exercise is to take only
that exercise which makes him agile and quick of movement, and which
trains the eye to judge the ball, or the arms and chest to wield the
bat, or the legs to run the bases. Lifting heavy weights or exercise
which is calculated to develop strength for such purposes is useless.
Swinging clubs, if carried to excess; jumping is unnecessary; work on
the parallel bars, the trapeze, etc., is needless. In fact, a ball
player can find far better training for quick movements, gaining
keen sightedness and endurance in a handball or racket court than
is possible in a gymnasium. Exercise in short-distance running is
good, and all exercises which tend to strengthen the muscles of the
ankles--such as skating, for instance--help to train a ball player.
But what is particularly required in the system of training for
professional ball players is that very activity which handball yields.
This game strengthens the hands, trains the sight, and especially
gives a player endurance in the very fatigue he has to undergo on the
ballfield. A skillful handball player, when he be comes accustomed to
baseball field work, will always excel in picking up hard-hit ground
balls.
[Illustration: L. E. MEYERS,
The Renowned American Runner.]
[Illustration: WELCOMING O’BALDWIN TO NEW YORK.
The Irish Giant, Joe Coburn, Ed. James, J. C. Heenan.]
ADVICE TO BUSINESS MEN AND OTHERS.
The majority of our readers are doubtless young men having in view
perfecting their frames for some muscular feat, and the bulk of this
work was written principally for their benefit. There is still another
and larger class for whom no author seems to have troubled his head
about. We allude to those compelled by circumstances to spend their
time in sedentary occupations, and are not likely to get time or means
to pursue a regular course of training.
It would be simply ridiculous to advise a letter-carrier to take
exercise after going his rounds of forty or fifty miles a day, as
physicians sometimes do without being aware of the calling of their
patient, or to suggest fasting forty days and nights for dyspepsia
because Dr. Tanner did it, giving no impossibilities or absurdities,
but such as we are willing to practice and carry out. As a general
thing, to keep down flesh, if inclined to corpulency, avoid sugar,
salmon, eels, herrings, pork, potatoes, beer, bread, butter, milk,
champagne, port and anything calculated to create bile. It would be
well to dispense with fat meats, eggs, pastry, new bread, cheese and
whatever else may produce nausea or indigestion after eating.