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Rating: The Legend of the Marathon Runner
On foot from Milan to Athens to win the Olympics
I wasn’t born an athlete, in fact, in high school, I was the worst in the dreaded school’s cross-country race, and when I say the worst, I mean that while I was finishing my last lap with my strength at its limits and muscles shattered, my classmates were already in the locker room changing clothes.
I have always cherished a love for bicycles and mountain outings, but by nature, I am not very competitive, and a certain laziness that resided in me during high school and university kept me away from any sports competition, even at the neighborhood level. If you add to that the unruly life of an averagely lazy teenager, it's a done deal.
In the distant 2002, a switch flipped, and everything changed. I bought a new luxurious mountain bike and got so enthusiastic about the sport that I participated in races on dirt tracks, and then, after a few years, bought a road bike, trained, and crossed the legendary Alpine passes of Gavia, Tonale, Pordoi, Foscagno, Stelvio, experiencing infinite joys! Not content with all this—actually, very content and with a growing competitive spirit—I also threw myself into road cycling races to then soon transition to mountain running and then road running, until running a half marathon which I finished with a time of 1 hour and 48 minutes, which is quite something for someone born unable to run like me.... Yes, I had become a runner without realizing it! Mind you, no team, no training buddy, no training schedule, no supplements, no massage therapist, no heart rate monitor; you mustn't take yourself too seriously, or you risk stumbling... everything is so offhand, by feel, taking times and trying to improve them each time with one imperative: never come last in the races I participate in and basically have fun.
Some races went well, beyond my wildest expectations, others a bit less... but I always kept my promise: never last!
Okay, you’ll tell me, but why this long speech? Because now that I am less trained, even though I continue (less regularly) with my sports passions, I delight in discovering strange stories, anecdotes, and curious characters linked to the world of sports, and I absolutely have to talk to you about Luigi Airoldi! Airoldi was born in Origgio in 1869 in what was then a rural area of Milan, and he showed a robust and muscular physique formed in the fields; great legs, muscular arms, and an immense chest. Just to throw out a couple of numbers: 120 cm chest, 45 cm bicep for a height of 160 cm! Practically a powerful block of reinforced concrete supported by sturdy legs and a will of infinite strength.
His physical strength led him to compete in various disciplines; his true passion was cycling, but soon his love for running blossomed, taking him to participate in grueling absurd races in the late 1800s like the 210 Km Torino-Nice to be run in two days or the 1000 km Torino-Marseille-Barcelona to be run in two weeks... I mean, just thinking about it gives you lactic acid even when lying on the sofa!
As luck would have it, these were the years when Baron De Coubertin at the Sorbonne in Paris was fighting to organize the first edition of the Modern Olympics that would be held in Athens in 1896, and for Airoldi, with his growing athletic condition which saw him compete and win some of the aforementioned races, it was too important an opportunity to miss. He had to participate in the Olympics to compete in the Marathon, the final race that concludes the Olympic program! And he wanted to win!
However, there is a problem: Carlo Airoldi is poor, very poor, and doesn't have the money to afford the trip to Athens, and his Sports Society "La veloce" had no intention of disbursing any funds to poor Carlo, who, used to making do on his own, had to manage alone even that time.
Walking to Athens was the only solution, and so he did. He found a sponsor: the newly-born sports newspaper "La bicicletta," which would cover the necessary travel expenses in exchange for news about the journey to be published in the newspaper.
The deal was done, his physical condition high, and so on February 28, 1896, Carlo Airoldi set off from Milan to Athens; two thousand km to be run in a month to arrive just a few days before the Marathon, sure of his means and a very likely victory. Amidst a thousand adventures and a comical attire, he reached the city of Athens on the set date, covering about 70 km a day for an entire month through rains, snow, mud, ill-intentioned people, nights spent outdoors, little food, stray animals, and everything you can imagine in such a journey...
Arriving in Athens with the echo of his deeds reported in the newspaper "la biciletta," he was celebrated by an honor committee upon arriving in the city, but unfortunately, not everything went as it should, and right there, where he wanted to leave his indelible mark in history, someone decided to play him a dirty trick.
I won't tell you how the story ends in Athens, so as not to spoil the unexpected bitter finale unworthy of such a great story that mixes black and white memories, feats from other times, Buffalo Bill, unimaginable tests of strength, pedestrian races, bureaucratic jargon, pride, and a hint of melancholy.
Today, very little remains of Carlo Airoldi; this book marks in black and white a story that alone would be the perfect script for a memorable film in a late 19th-century Italy; in a late 19th-century Europe.
Read it in one breath, and you'll run stronger than before! Carlo Airoldi is Rock!
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