Book Review: Today We Die A Little by Richard Askwith
If you’ve read anything about running history you are probably aware of Emil Zatopek, and can roll off his major biographical details and characteristics: his 1952 sweep of distance running events in the Olympics, his herky-jerky form that was described by one sportswriter as “like a man wrestling with an octopus on a conveyer belt,” and some poor treatment from the Communist Czechoslovakian regime after he retired from running. While Zatopek’s name is still revered in running history (he was named the greatest runner ever by Runner’s World magazine in 2013) English-speaking readers have only had a few incomplete biographies of the life of “the Czech Locomotive.” Richard Askwith fills this void with Today We Die a Little, a comprehensive and nuanced portrait of Zatopek. It brings new revelations such as Zatopek’s stand-off with Czechoslovakian authorities in protest of a fellow athlete being barred from competing due to his father being imprisoned for political crimes, resulting in Zatopek threatening to sit out the 1952 games and ultimately arriving late into Helsinki after forcing the authorities to back down. Askwith also presents Zatopek as a complex figure who despite his many positive attributes also had an occasionally rocky relationship with his wife Dana and was suspected by some as being a Communist operative.
Zatopek’s early life bucks the trope of the athlete whose talent is apparent from an early age. Growing up in a large poor family during the Great Depression, he was deterred from playing sports as a child for fear of wearing down his shoes. He only really took to running to relieve himself of the monotony of training as a shoemaker. Running served as an escape and a safe haven for Zatopek throughout his life, whether it was from the shoe factory or the oppressive Communist Czechoslovakian regime. He was constantly experimenting with ways to optimize his training and no strategy was too strange to try at least once, including trying to hold his breath for long periods (to the point where he once passed out) and eating birch leaves under one of the more unappetizing examples of the post hoc ergo proptor hoc fallacies (because deer eat birch leaves and deer are fast, QED). Askwith also dispels some myths associated with Zatopek, including that he trained often carrying his wife on his shoulders.
After a disappointing showing in the 1948 Olympics where his overexertion on a qualifying heat killed his chances of winning the 10K, Zatopek hit his peak in 1952 with his sweep of the distance running events, a feat that we will likely never see again. Askwith speculates that Zatopek may have entered the marathon, a distance he had never tried before, in 1952 as a hedge against poor performance in the 5K and 10K, as failing to meet expectations could have damaging repercussions as some athletes were sent to labor camps after underperforming on the world’s athletic stage. Askwith is able to bring the 1952 Olympics to life with his extensive research, plumbing through tons of primary source documents and also drawing heavily from interviews with Emil’s wife Dana for further insights.
Zatopek’s life was less rosy once he retired from running. After Czechoslovakia liberalized following the Prague Spring in 1968, Zatopek was expelled from the military (where he worked a series of different jobs and served as an athletic ambassador for the country) and forced to work a series of menial jobs, though he claims to have enjoyed some of his postings that required manual labor. On the track Zatopek was revered by his fellow competitors as one of the friendliest people they had ever met, but Askwith gives an evenhanded analysis of Zatopek’s conduct outside of sports. Zatopek had a complicated relationship with the Communist Party, as he was not afraid of challenging the regime but also “wrote” a letter criticizing opposition politician Milada Horakova who was charged with false claims of conspiracy and treason and eventually executed, and some figures accused Zatopek of being a Communist snitch. Askwith weighs the merit of such claims and ultimately concludes that there is not enough evidence to firmly rule in one direction or the other. Today We Die a Little never veers into hagiographic territory and by mentioning such suspicions and Zatopek’s extramarital relationships give the reader a fuller picture of Zatopek.
Running books usually fall firmly in either the “running performance improvement” (e.g. Daniel’s Running Formula) or “pure entertainment” (e.g. The Perfect Mile) camp, with little overlap. Askwith does provide details on some of Zatopek’s most crushing workouts and some entries from his training diary (mostly an absurdly high volume of 400-meter repeats with very little rest in between reps), but these are more to reveal the character and indomitable will and mental fortitude that the runner possessed more than a prescription for running success. Although Zatopek was ahead of the curve on topics such as the value of intervals, running science has advanced by leaps and bounds since his heyday and it is not advisable to follow Zatopek’s training plan to the letter, but we can all learn from his willpower. It is hard to read about Zatopek’s training plans and his absurd feats, including winning the European Championships one year basically immediately after being hospitalized for terrible food poisoning and having his stomach pumped, and not feel a little inspired. It certainly puts a runner’s own tempo runs or “long” runs in perspective, and I often find myself reflecting on Zatopek’s toughness when I start dragging on my own runs. Zatopek’s times may no longer seem quite so incredible (his record-breaking 10K time in 1952 would have finished 24th in the 2012 Olympics), he remains an inspiration to runners everywhere due to his willpower and character. His life in general makes for quite entertaining reading. Askwith does a commendable job at humanizing Zatopek and telling his story and I’m grateful that he has contributed Today We Die a Little to the running literary canon.
8 / 10