A quiet lion in the history of American long distance running left us this past Wednesday in Texas. He had gone there from his home in New York City for his final battle with cancer. Ted was a pioneer, an explorer of the human depths of physical exertion long before anyone here in New York knew or appreciated this side of distance running. A dignified, reserved man Ted translated his college career as a 50 second quarter miler and later his Olympic Marathon experience in the 1952 Helsinki Games, into a life-long passion for the ultra distances.
On October 25, 1969 at close to fifty years of age on the track at Walton-on-Thames, England he took on some of the world’s greatest ultra athletes in the 100 mile run. With incredible courage he finished third behind the legendary John Tarrant in an American record of 13 hours 33 minutes. That same year, he had finished second in the historical London to Brighton 52.5 mile road race, the best finish ever at that time by an American. He returned to England at age 53 to take on the ultimate challenge, the 24 hour run, covering 134.6 miles for third place. He had to be carried from the track when it was over.
I heard about Ted Corbitt when I was a young runner at Fordham University. It was said he did a Saturday run beginning at Van Cortlandt Park. The run was around Manhattan, the entire island a total of 31 miles. Ted spoke little. Mike Frankfurt, Armory Foundation Chairman remembers running with him one weekend. Ted said, “Let’s go” at 242nd Street and didn’t offer a word for the next four hours. When they made the loop back to Van Cortlandt Park, they eased up and walked. Ted turned to Mike “Nice run.” That was it, that was all.
Ted was editor of the New York Road Runners Newsletter in the 1960’s and I often contributed from my vantage point as a medical student in Switzerland and a distance runner in some international meets. He seemed to like the articles and encouraged me on. When I first considered running the London to Brighton myself in 1976, he was the first one I consulted. With a mindset that 5 miles was a day’s work how could I make 52.5 non-stop. Ted didn’t offer any specific advice but gave me a general plan “If you can run a marathon, you can probably do another. Just be sure you run a lot before you start,” he advised.
Ted aged gracefully. He was always available to the sport of running for input, advice, his membership on the Board of Directors of the NYC Marathon, his continuing contact with Englishman John Jewell, the Founder of the British Road Runners Club, his dedicated work as a physical therapist, his profound devotion to his family. Though slight at 5 feet 7 inches and 130 pounds, his muscular frame seemed much larger. He was a very handsome man with gentle carriage and unforced beauty that never seemed to leave him well into his eighties. I last saw him walking briskly along route 9 up past my village of Hastings on a Saturday afternoon a good 15 miles from his home in Manhattan. He was still heading north and didn’t seem to want to delay much but was, as always, very cordial. The autumn sky was an intense blue and there was bright sun and a nice freshness in the air. He shook my hand and moved on. The next week he sent me a very brief note at the Armory to keep up the good work, he thought there should be even more of such places for kids who want to run.
