CHAPTER XVI
MY BANNER SEASON, 1899
Throughout the winter of 1898 I kept in fine physical trim at the Y. M. C. A. gymnasium in my home town, Worcester, Mass. My trainer outlined a course of light exercises for me which I followed to the letter and when the spring rolled around I was in excellent condition for what was destined to be my greatest season on the American tracks. To make sure that I did not get down too fine I carried about six pounds extra weight the same being my reserve in case my opponents started crowding me.
All through that winter season I had four objectives before me. One was the championship of the world, the second was to again win the American championship, the third was to reduce the one-mile world's record to 1:20 or lower, and the fourth was to secure a match race with Tom Cooper or Eddie Bald, leading claimants for the championship of America at the moment and formerly undisputed champions of America. I knew that it was an heroic-sized order and never for the moment did I let up in my training stunts.
I started the ball rolling that season by winning my very first race at Philadelphia. One of my most spectacular victories of the year was winning the big $500 two-mile handicap sweepstake on the Charles River track in Boston on Memorial Day.
I started from scratch with Nat Butler, that great old war-horse who was widely known as the "Handicap King." A last-minute accident deprived me of my sprint bicycle and I was forced to ride a wheel that I only used behind pace. It was geared to 114 inchees which was a tremendous jump from the 92-inch sprinting gear which I had planned to use in this event. Any bicycle racer will appreciate the handicap that that difference of 22 inches means to a rider in a sprint competition race. It is considered an insurmountable handicap. However, I had become so used to doing what seemed to be impossible stunts on a bicycle that I decided to take another chance in this race with my big gear. Again I was relying mainly in this emergency upon my fine physical condition to carry me through.
I left the mark with a jump with Nat Butler on my wheel and we were soon in hot pursuit of his brother, Tom Butler, who had been given a handicap of 50 yards on us. Another brother, Frank Butler, and Watson Coleman started from the 80-yard mark but by alternating pace at half-lap intervals Nat Butler and I managed to overtake the leaders just as the bell clanged for the beginning of the final lap.
Frank Butler was leading at that moment. Then Nat Butler shot
