USAIN BOLT WRECKED MY THEORY

PRINT EDITION CONTENTS past issues

PAST GALLERIES

Ed Smith had a theory that sprinters—like greyhounds and racehorses—were not getting any faster. But then came Bolt ...

From INTELLIGENT LIFE Magazine, Winter 2009 The theory was simple: we have stopped getting faster. More accurately, the rate at which we are improving has slowed significantly. Instead of smashing records, we are shaving fractions off them. Male marathon runners have improved the world record by about five minutes over the last 40 years. In the previous 40 years, they lopped off 20 minutes. Since the 1970s, a similar levelling-off has happened in both men’s and women’s middle-distance running. We are inching forward rather than taking giant leaps.

So I have been arguing that sport is approaching the outer limits of human potential: we would have to get used to slowing down at the business of getting faster. I could count on the support of greyhounds and racehorses. Despite vastly expensive and sophisticated breeding and training methods—not to mention burgeoning economic incentives—modern trainers cannot squeeze much extra speed out of their thoroughbreds. For greyhounds, there has been little improvement in the winning times of the English Oaks since 1966. The English Grand National and the English Derby plateaued in about 1971. Greyhounds just aren’t getting faster. Nor are horses. The Derby is Britain’s leading flat race.

This year’s winner, Sea the Stars, has been hailed as the greatest racehorse of all time, but his winning time of 2 minutes 36 seconds wouldn’t have beaten 1953’s winner, Pinza. Perhaps the ground was faster in 1953. But that wouldn’t explain why there has been virtually no improvement in the average winning time over the past 50 years—it has almost always bobbed about between 2.34 and 2.40. The Kentucky Derby tells the same story: between 1949 and 2008 there is no significant correlation between year and winning speed. Why? According to the Harvard evolutionary biologist Andrew Berry, “You can only breed horses with ultralight thin bones to a certain point; the bones will break under stress if they get any lighter.” Horses have hit their outer wall. In many respects, so have humans. The increase in human height, for example, has begun to level off. And if you draw a graph of athletics world-record times, the curve appears to be turning into a plateau. I assumed we were going the same way as greyhounds and racehorses. Then came Bolt. Initially, I stuck to my guns.

At the 2008 Olympics in Beijing, Bolt won gold in both the 100 metres and the 200. He reduced one record from 9.72 to 9.69 and the other from 19.32 to 19.30. While the press hailed him as a freak of nature—a 6ft 5ins breed of super-human—I hid behind the reassurances of science. Mark Denney’s research at Stanford argued that Bolt had not really shattered the records at all. He had only shaved 0.3% and 0.1% off them. Denney predicted that one day human beings might be able to run 100 metres as fast as 9.48 seconds. But that would be the limit. My theory was clinging on. Denney’s research gave humanity as much time as we liked to get down to 9.48. But Usain Bolt nearly got there in one year. At the Berlin World Championships in August 2009, Bolt ran 9.58. You could say he shocked the world. But no one was any longer capable of being shocked by Bolt.

At the Olympics, Bolt had cruised the last 20 metres, as though it was more important to look cool than to break records. At Berlin, Bolt stayed serious for the full nine and a half seconds. But he did allow himself a glance or two at his closest rival Tyson Gay, and then at the electronic clock by the finish line. By avoiding those distractions, Bolt could have run even faster. It was time to wave the white flag and say goodbye to my theory. Tyson Gay must feel the same. Gay ran in lane five at Berlin, one outside Bolt. If you watch the slow-motion replays of the race head-on, Gay’s performance is almost more fascinating than Bolt’s.

Most losing runners lose their form. As they struggle to stay in touch with the winner, they make technical mistakes. Yet Gay seemed to run perfectly throughout the race. In fact, his 9.71 is the third-fastest legitimate time in history. And yet he wasn’t even in contention. That is how good Usain Bolt is already. Bolt claims he can run 9.4. Before Berlin, I would have reached for my graphs and queried his arrogance. I would have argued that the projection shows us X, history demonstrates Y, and that the outer limit looms at Z. Now I’d rather just look forward to the next instalment of human genius. Bolt isn’t done yet—and neither are we.

(Ed Smith has just retired as a cricketer. His third book, "What Sport Tells Us About Life" (Penguin), is now in paperback. Also in the winter issue, he asked the question: Are we too professional?) Picture Credit: : Richard Giles (via Flickr)