SO WHO HOLDS THE IMPOSSIBLE RECORD?
This world-class athlete averaged 85 miles a DAY as he ran from Land’s End to John O’Groats... ...while his amateur rival was 19 hours quicker — a World Record now mired in bitter controversy
THE world-class ultramarathon runner was hanging like a rag doll from the neck of a member of his support crew when he arrived at the house in Aviemore, Inverness-shire. Dan Lawson’s legs were useless. He could not even make it up the stairs to the bathroom without being carried.
There, he was plonked into the bath and given Epsom salt for his searing muscle pain. Getting out, he almost fainted then dry heaved repeatedly into the sink before being carried into a campervan where he collapsed into slumber.
It was the end of day eight of his epic endurance test – his second attempt at the Land’s End to John O’Groats running record.
Day nine was worse. By evening, he was running more slowly than most people walk. For the first time, says his coach Robbie Britton, ‘he didn’t actually look like he could make it’.
Lawson himself remembers being so befuddled he could no longer transition from a walk to a run. Only the diligence of his team and his vast experience as an exceptional ultra-endurance athlete kept him going through the last 100 miles of torture to reach John O’Groats last summer in nine days, 21 hours and 14 minutes – the second fastest time on record.
Not all athletes who take on crazy distance runs such as this would have been in the shape Mr Lawson was after more than a week of averaging 85 miles a day.
No, the vast majority quit on day three or four after literally running themselves into the ground – or struggle on more slowly every day, as soldier Richard Perkins who began his attempt at the record last Friday has been doing all this week.
Only one contender has proved the exception – and, remarkably, he has little pedigree as an elite athlete.
Andrew Rivett is a hitherto middling runner from Rye, East Sussex who, prior to his John O’Groats to Land’s End campaign in 2002, was miles off the pace in recording a world class time in any event. But, as the Guinness World Record (GWR) holder of fastest runner between the farthest flung points in mainland Britain, he is comfortably ahead of all-comers.
Clocking a time of nine days, two hours and 26 minutes, he is almost 19 hours faster than Mr Lawson, who is the holder of a string of ultra-running honours, including European 24-hour Championships winner of 2016.
Indeed, Mr Rivett’s time is so impressive only that of Greek running ‘god’ Yiannis Kouros is comparable. He is widely considered the greatest ultra-distance runner in history.
In 1988 he ran 1,000 miles in ten days, ten hours and 30 minutes, averaging 95.8 miles per day around a track in New York.
Mr Rivett’s record over his 874-mile route has him running a fraction faster than that – an average of 96 miles per day – but over uneven, often mountainous terrain.
IN short, it makes his achievement among the most astonishing in all sport. His time is 10 per cent faster than any verified run between the two landmarks, which is all the more extraordinary given the quality of those who have attempted the record and Mr Rivett’s relative lack of pedigree.
Why, then, is he not feted as a sporting world-beater?
‘I have always been a private person, someone who does not enjoy club running or competing,’ Mr Rivett, now 57, tells the Mail. ‘Whilst I was happy to coach colleagues, I was not particularly interested in participating in big named events.’
There is another, less comfortable, explanation for the lack of fanfare surrounding the run listed by GWR as the fastest between the mainland’s two extremities.
Many in Britain’s community of ultramarathon runners do not believe Mr Rivett’s time could be genuine. There is now a campaign to have his achievement stricken from the annals and Mr Lawson’s 2020 run installed as the official record.
Sour grapes? Or are the worldbeating endurance athletes who go after Mr Rivett’s record chasing a phantom – and, in doing so, risking serious damage to their health?
One respected athlete, coach and writer who has spent months investigating the run is ‘100 per cent convinced’ the record is a mistake.
As Will Cockerell puts it, Mr Rivett’s achievement is the equivalent of a hitherto unknown runner bettering Usain Bolt’s 9.58-second 100m record by a clear second – or a fivehandicap golfer winning the US Masters by six shots.
Sport simply does not work like that, says Mr Cockerell, who has launched a petition to have the record discounted.
He says: ‘Although the race is sharply rising in popularity, it is mired in confusion, controversy, bad blood and, most importantly, a hugely elevated risk. The race is bad enough, with the dangers of terrible traffic, complex route navigation and 15,000m of climbing but also now has to contend with a bewilderment about what is and isn’t possible and runners setting off at dangerous speeds to chase a mark founded in fiction, not fact.’
The ultramarathon runners’ official recorder of fastest known times – the website fastestknowntime. com – has also made its position clear. It has removed Mr Rivett’s 2002 time and now lists Mr Lawson’s run as the record instead.
A spokesman for the website told the Mail: ‘We learned last year of the significant controversy surrounding Rivett’s claim, and examined the information we could find about his run. We determined that the information available to us was inadequate for purposes of verifying the claim, according to basic standards that were generally accepted at the time of his run.’
It is here, perhaps, that the picture muddies. In 2002 there were no Garmin or Strava trackers attached to runners’ arms. Verification of Mr Rivett’s record came through photographs taken by his support team and documents signed by independent witnesses confirming he ran past a certain point at a certain time.
‘GWR, quite frankly, are operating on the honours code,’ says Mr Cockerell. ‘There was an unwritten thing that “we’re just going to have to trust you on this” because a photo of a runner isn’t really the be all and end all in terms of proof.’
The lack of publicity attached to Mr Rivett’s record adds to its vulnerability. Few newspapers reported on it – and, with no social media to speak of, there was little discussion among ultramarathon runners who could truly appreciate the scale of the achievement – or question whether it was even possible.
That has all changed today. Social media has helped turn Britain’s disparate population of ultramarathon and multi-day runners into a community and mutual support group – a collection of athletes who would go to enormous lengths to help each others’ endeavours.
Hence, Mr Lawson was joined for sections of his run last year by pacemakers from across the country. Thanks to this extended support network, there was usually a friendly household en-route where the exhausted runner could have a bath.
By comparison, far less is known about the mechanics of Mr Rivett’s run. But does it make it impossible? And are world records not, by their very nature, astonishing and improbable? One ultra-runner, James Williams, who tried and failed to break the Rivett record in 2019, is not convinced it is unassailable.
MR Williams, who was coached by Mr Cockerel for his record attempt, broke down on day five of his run after being reduced to walking at a pace ‘even a snail would be embarrassed by’. He told one interviewer: ‘I remember crying in a layby along an A-road somewhere in Shropshire. I was in such a bad way, and so far from the end, that dropping out was the only obvious choice.’ He added: ‘I’d rather not comment [on Rivett’s record]. But what I will say is I don’t agree that it is impossible to break. It’s an amazing time. But then, so are most records. Usain Bolt’s 100m time is amazing. But you don’t hear many people say it’s impossible. Paula Radcliffe’s marathon record was amazing, but it was broken. ‘With the right training, the right logistics, the right weather, support and lots of other factors, I believe that the record can be broken.’ As for Mr Rivett, he quietly insists his record is genuine and that, in sport, miracles do happen. Now a shipwright, independent town councillor and amateur musician, he tells the Mail: ‘My record was set to the standards that Guinness World Records lay down in 2002, and technology now is incredible compared to some 20 years ago – furthermore, it cannot be applied retrospectively.’ He said GWR had revisited the evidence for his record in 2019 and concluded that it should stand. Mr Rivett adds: ‘At the time, my team and I handed over all the evidence we collected – videos, photos, time sheets, personal statements, diary entries, witness reports and so forth.’ His run took more than three years of planning, he said. ‘It was not just physical training, but more
so mental resilience, plus analysis of every step of the route, the effects of the weather conditions and temperatures, roads and traffic, making best use of one’s own circadian rhythms to run at a personal optimal time of the day, and having a physio on hand 24/7 – a personal witness to the whole event – along with countless others who ran or cycled part of the route with me.’
He said that, following his 2002 run, he had had a pacemaker fitted and was unable to continue in the sport. Mr Rivett recalled he started at 6am on the first day but at midnight on all others.
HE said there were no injuries to speak of, save for one blister on his instep, and despite expecting his pace to drop in the latter stages, he never slowed.
Consequently he averaged more than 90 miles on all nine of his running days.
Dan Lawson’s experience was very different. Having tried and failed to come close to Mr Rivett’s time three years ago, he decided to put it out of his head completely and focus on bettering the time set by Richard Brown in the 1990s.
Mr Brown, another legend in the sport, joined the Lawson support team for several days.
Mr Lawson, 48, from Brighton, describes in eye-watering detail the agonising chafing in his ‘undercarriage’ – so extreme there were times he had to run practically naked. And he tells of the mornings after the nights before, setting off alongside ultramarathon-running peers who had turned up to lend support.
‘It was really embarrassing. That first half hour is really hard work because you run like you can’t run, you’re all over the place, but slowly your body warms up and you get into a rhythm.’
Some of his team had urged him to shoot for the Rivett record but he had held firm. He said: ‘None of us believed it anyway in the crew so my thing was “why are we shooting for something that’s just not real?” It could be any number. It’s crazy.’
AS for Richard Perkins’s current attempt on the record, his pace dropped from 98 miles on day one to 56 on day two and 44 on day three. By yesterday, after a week of running, he was in Lancashire – still some 70 miles short of the Scottish Border. His run is not yet over, but his attempt on the record is.
In a statement, Guinness World Records said it would review any formal appeal against a record.
It said: ‘When attempting a record, evidence is scrutinised against the guidelines by our records management team in order for a record to be awarded.
‘As such, any claim of misconduct must be accompanied by irrefutable evidence of wrongdoing.’
It added: ‘Only in cases where there is concrete proof of misconduct against the guidelines and evidence will the decision be overturned.’
And there, perhaps, the campaign against the Rivett record runs out of road. Could there ever be ‘concrete proof’ that this apparently amiable runner posted an erroneous time?
As long as the challenge is to prove that Andrew Rivett didn’t achieve a sporting miracle – as opposed to proving that he did – the ‘impossible’ record seems destined to stand.